Wielder’s Awakening

Book 1 of the Wielder Trilogy

By T.B. Christensen

Copyright © 2011 T.B. Christensen

All rights reserved.

Prologue

The swirling shadows inside the basin of water slowly dissipated as the water once again mirrored only the reflection of the man who stood gazing into it.  The smooth water shone with the image of a strong man in his prime with golden hair falling to his shoulders.  His bright blue eyes were clouded with uncertainty.  Somewhat troubled, he finally broke his gaze free from the pewter dish that balanced on top of a large stalagmite and raised his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow.  He let out a great sigh as he slumped onto the only piece of furniture in the cave, a small wooden stool.  The only things in the small cavern besides the screeing dish and the stool were several candles.  They sat atop ledges along the walls of the cavern to provide light.  The light, however, was not welcomed by Kadrak.  He had a severe headache and the flickering candles did not help to soothe it.  With one last show of power, Kadrak extinguished all of the candles with a single thought.

While it was easy to perform great feats for a short period of time, holding the ambience within oneself for a prolonged period of time often had a devastating effect.  The constant use of the ambience power took a great toll both mentally and physically.  He smiled to himself as he thought of how no one else had ever been able to manipulate the ambience power with the strength that he could.  The great wielders of the legends could not even compare to him.  Anyone else who would have tried to hold the ambience for over an hour would have burnt themselves out and died.  Kadrak was only left weakened with a headache.

His smile was quickly replaced by a grimace as he remembered how fruitless his screeing had been once again. Hours of searching had still turned up nothing new.  He had finally begun to close in on something when he was suddenly stopped.  For over an hour he had been trying to locate anyone in Kalia who had the gift.  Several days ago he had discovered that there were three wielders in Selba and one other in Balthus, yet they did not worry him.  All four combined could not even muster up a third of his strength, even if they each were at their full potential.  He had found none in Cydus with the gift and had begun to search Kalia.  As he tried, though, something had prevented him from seeing into Kalia.  He had been too tired to continue, so he had postponed the search until tonight.

He had once again called up the image of Kalia, but this time with more strength.  It was still difficult yet he was able to penetrate through the haze of northern and western Kalia.  He found nothing of importance but still had not been able to penetrate southeast Kalia.  He had slowly pushed the haze back until only the land south and east of Kavar was still hidden.  He then suddenly couldn’t push back the haze any further.  He kept trying, but the only thing he had gained was a headache.  He had finally given up and released his hold on the ambience.  It troubled him that something could restrict his power.  Kadrak decided that he would try again in a few weeks and get to the bottom of it.

He couldn’t figure out what had prevented him from searching.  Another wielder could stop him if he was strong enough, but even then the wielder would have to know that Kadrak was seeking him and use the ambience to cast a defense.  Kadrak was almost certain that this wasn’t the case.  Nobody who had the gift would even suspect that another wielder was searching for him.  Those few who had the gift probably didn’t even realize it, and if they did, they would be occupied trying to learn how to use it, not worried that someone would be searching for them.

Kadrak concluded that it was most likely some relic left behind by the great wielders.  It may even be one of the stones he had been looking for.  He had read of certain stones that had been manipulated many years ago by several of the greatest wielders.  These stones were imbued with a trapped portion of the ambience to serve a specific purpose.  He had found two of these stones that he called the seekers.  The stones changed from black to red when in the presence of someone with the gift.  He hadn’t been able to find any of the other special stones.  Kadrak understood that only a few had been created because the price to make one was one’s own essence.  He had often wondered who would give up his life for eternal solitude trapped within a stone.  He pitied the poor fools who had given up everything in order to do something no others could.  The fame had not lasted long, though, as not even the oldest records remembered the names of those few who had imbued the stones.  Kadrak would not waste his gift on something as idiotic as giving up his life in a stone; he had something grander in mind.

Although he assumed that he had nothing to fear from Kalia, it would not hurt to be careful.  He slowly rose from the stool and with great effort put on a mask of strength belying his exhaustion.  As he calmly strode from the screeing cavern, two elite Galdaks quickly fell into step behind him.  He knew that he had no need for bodyguards, yet it kept the Galdaks satisfied that they were doing something useful for their master.  Kadrak also did not mind being able to relax his guard and focus on walking without stumbling.  The Galdaks were stupid, but they were also loyal and deadly.  While they resembled their human brothers, their dark red, thick skin created a natural layer of thin armor, and they were stronger than humans could ever hope to be.  With their glowing yellow eyes, they were able to pierce the darkness of shadows.  The six foot tall Galdaks were stronger then several human warriors combined.  It was comforting to know that a swift death awaited any who pestered him.

Kadrak had discovered the Galdaks several years ago while he was searching the Parched Mountains for the ruins of a once great city.  The city had supposedly boasted a library greater than any other ever created.  While traveling alone through the mountains he had suddenly been attacked by a Galdak.  He quickly disposed of it but found more Galdaks quickly surrounding him.  They had stared at him with murder in their eyes and the taste of blood on the tips of their tongues.  He had slowly gathered in so much of the ambience that he was ready to burst.  As he prepared to unleash his power on the Galdaks, one had slowly stepped forward and bowed before him.  The Galdak was shorter than the others and adorned with precious stones and the skulls of vicious animals.  He was bent with age but his presence hushed the blood thirsty yells of the other Galdaks.  The others stood in confused silence for several moments before they also knelt at his feet.  Kadrak had no idea what was happening but slowly let his hold on the ambience dissipate.

The elder Galdak had then slowly risen and led him to a nearby cave.  When Kadrak demanded to know what was going on, the Galdak slowly pulled an ancient book from the folds of his dark robe and handed it to Kadrak.  Upon reading the book, he discovered that the Galdaks had once been a mighty race that lived alongside the humans.  They had always kept to themselves except to trade with the humans.  During a time of famine they had begun to venture into the human lands in search of food.  The humans would not allow the Galdaks to diminish their own meager food supply and had gathered an army to defend their lands.  The Galdaks were dying of hunger and in anger began to slaughter all humans that they ran across.  The humans fought back with equal ferocity and eventually by sheer numbers had forced the Galdaks through the Parched Mountains and into the Barren Lands.  They had not stopped there, but had hunted the Galdaks until they had killed all that they could find.  The only Galdaks that survived were those who had managed to hide in the labyrinthian caverns of the Parched Mountains.

There they had been gaining strength and waiting for the time when they would be able to avenge their ancestors and conquer the humans.  They had slowly been growing in number and training in the art of war.  All that they were waiting for was the one their prophecies spoke of; the one who would lead them as they enslaved the human race; the one who could wield the ambience as no one ever had; a great warlord.  The old Galdak, who was their Shaman, believed Kadrak to be that person.  With Shaman Azulk convinced, all of the other Galdaks had pledged their lives to Kadrak even though he was a human.  Kadrak had never found any remains of the great library he was searching for, but he had found an army.

The Galdaks alone would never have an army large enough to challenge the entire human race, but this wouldn’t stop Kadrak.  He had carefully been devising a plan that would weaken the human lands to the point where they could be easily conquered by the Galdaks.  He would then have his rightful place as ruler over everyone, humans and Galdaks alike.  He had slowly begun to build an army of greedy, fame seeking scoundrels in the foothills of the Parched Mountains in northern Balthus.  He would soon have enough recruits to lead his human army against the lands and try his hand as a conqueror.  When his human army was eventually defeated, the Galdaks would be ready to sweep the tattered, unsuspecting victors.  Kadrak almost feared that his ascension was going to be too easy.

As Kadrak swept out under the night sky, he was met by Shaman Azulk.  The Shaman was his right-hand man among the Galdaks.  He was as smart and cunning as any human and strong like his race.  He always managed to please Kadrak and would let nothing stop him from accompanying Kadrak when they were victorious.  Shaman Azulk bowed deeply to him.  The skulls and stones dangling from his neck clicked off each other as they nearly touched the ground.  He slowly straightened and then asked in a voice like two pieces of bark being rubbed together, “How great was your success my master?”

“Everything is going as I had planned.  There is something slightly disturbing in southern Kalia, but it’s none of your concern.  It will be resolved quickly.”  Kadrak grinned with the thought of finally being able to put his plan into action.  He could already taste the glory he would receive as his armies swept across the lands conquering entire nations.  He licked his lips relishing in his thoughts of the sweetness of victory.  His glorious reign would soon cover the land.  He turned to Azlk.  “I am going down to finish preparations with the humans.  We will soon march, and disorder and bloodshed will reign.  You know your job.  Don’t fail me!”

* * * * *

Azulk watched as Kadrak was escorted by his elite bodyguards to the edge of the mountains.  He knew what he must do, and he knew he would be successful.  When Kadrak returned for his Galdak army, Azulk would have them ready to sweep out of the mountains and rid the world of humans.  Victory would be sweet.  Azulk only hoped that he could quell his desire for revenge until Kadrak had finished what he set out to do.  He absently stroked the skulls dangling from his neck.  One more skull would make his collection complete, the skull of a great human wielder.  With a last glance at Kadrak, Azulk turned and confidently strode into his fortress of caverns to check on his grand army.

* * * * *

Kadrak didn’t need to glance back at Azulk to know that the Shaman was staring at him with murder in his eyes.  Shaman Azulk would serve his purpose of preparing the Galdak army.  When he was done with his task, Kadrak would quietly dispose of him.  Kadrak had no thought of allowing someone as dangerous as Azulk to continue on living.  Even though Azulk was much weaker in the ambience than Kadrak, he had suspicions that the old Shaman had many tricks.  Kadrak did not trust him, but it didn’t matter.  He was just another tool in Kadrak’s plot; a tool just like the human army and the Galdak army.  Tools were made to be used and then discarded.

White teeth shone in the dark night as Kadrak approached the human camp with his lips curled back in a malevolent sneer.  Tonight he would take care of the last little setbacks in his plan.  He would send two of his best assassins to end the threat of another wielder trying to stand against him.  Soon the only wielders of the ambience left alive would be Azulk and himself.  He then would have nothing to stop him but ordinary human armies.  There would be no wielders left to rally and lead the people.  When the time finally came, Kadrak would be the only wielder of the ambience left alive.

As Kadrak approached his tent, the two shady looking men standing guard pulled back the flaps to let him in.  The tent was illuminated instantly as both lamps on either side of his large desk sprang to life.  The large tent was just big enough to fit his bed and desk in it.  It was not very luxurious, but Kadrak knew that the time for luxuries would soon be at hand.  He slowly sat down at his desk and sent for his two best assassins.  Minutes later they slipped without a sound into his tent.  They were so quiet that even Kadrak almost didn’t notice them entering.  He glanced up from the maps on his desk to see them kneeling obediently on the floor.

“I have very important tasks for you.  When you succeed, you will be greatly rewarded.”  Kadrak emptied a small pouch of precious stones onto his desk.  The stocky man with short black hair slowly rose to stand before Kadrak.  It was no wonder he had taken upon himself the name of Shadow.  He had an extremely dark complexion and his eyes were almost black.  He was strong and deadly.  He preferred to perform his deeds with only the aid of his bare hands.  The other man who rose to stand beside him was known as Wraith.  If it was possible to be deadlier than Shadow, Wraith was.  He was tall and skinny with long black hair.  His grey, beady eyes took in everything around him in less than a second as he constantly searched for danger.  Unlike Shadow, Wraith enjoyed the use of weapons.  He was very fond of bows and daggers.  While Shadow let all of his victims see his face the moment before he killed them, Wraith disposed of his victims without them ever knowing he was anywhere nearby.

These men were undoubtedly the best assassins in Balthus and quite possibly the world.  Kadrak had met them several years ago when he needed someone to be quietly disposed of in his own house.  Kadrak had kept them in his service ever since.  They worked the jobs that he assigned them without ever questioning him.  They would do anything if the price was right, and Kadrak always had the right price.  The Galdaks produced more than just army fodder.  They also produced an endless supply of silver and gems from the heart of the mountains they inhabited.  Kadrak never worried about spending money generously, and his assassins knew it.  Their silent deadliness was feared in Balthus by those who knew of them, and as far as Kadrak knew, they had never failed to the slightest degree at any of their jobs.  He could have killed everyone he needed to easily, by himself.  However, these assassins amused him with their disregard for life and saved him the time and effort.

“We are here to serve you master,” replied Shadow.  Kadrak deftly explained to Shadow his task.  Shadow was to take a small group of bandits south to Drathar.  Somewhere near the city there was a wielder.  He was to find the wielder and kill him.  Shadow was then to proceed down into Selba.  In some small village near Kalfa he would find two wielders and in another village nearby a third.  Each was to be disposed of quickly and quietly.  He then wanted the heads of each of the four wielders brought back to him.  Shadow would have free rein to have fun with his group of bandits on the way back, but not until the four wielders had been disposed of.  When he returned, Shadow would receive a king’s ransom in silver and gems.  Kadrak then produced one of the seeker stones from under his desk and handed it to Shadow.  After explaining its usefulness, Kadrak dismissed Shadow with a wave of his hand and turned his attention to Wraith.

“I have saved a special task for you.  You will not be sent to kill anyone specifically but to watch, listen, and be a burden on the citizens of Kalia.”  Wraith was disappointed that he was being used as a spy rather than as a weapon.  However, a smile slowly crept onto his face as Kadrak explained what all he had in mind.  Wraith was to take a small group of some of the best of Kadrak’s men and go west into Kalia.  He was to search with the second seeker stone for the disturbance that Kadrak had encountered in southern Kalia.  If he found a wielder, he was to kill him and bring back his head.  If he found a stone or other artifact, he was to return quickly with it.  If he found neither, he was to remain in Kalia and keep watching for anything that could have caused the disturbance.  While he was searching, he could do anything he wanted to with Kadrak’s men. Whether it be highway robbery or pillaging towns, Kadrak did not care, as long as they did not attract too much attention.  When Kadrak finished, Wraith took the seeker stone and bowed before leaving the room.

Kadrak couldn’t help but let out a sly laugh.  Everything was now set into place.  The assassins were already setting out to eliminate the last setbacks in his plan.  Now he could focus on preparing and strengthening his army.  Thieves and bandits continued to slowly trickle into his camp.  Soon he would be ready to set out, destroy, and conquer!

Part One: Leaving

1

Traven continued his slow and careful walk down the avenue of the large city.  The swirling mist at his feet gave the beautiful city an eerie feeling in the dark of night.  He shivered in the cold as the wind picked up.  Glancing back, he saw the thin tower rising in the distance.  It rose out of the billowing fog, standing majestically as a black void in the night sky.  Traven turned away from the dark tower and continued on.  Buildings stood silently on both sides of the avenue until they were stopped abruptly by a grand plaza.  He turned down a side street between two large buildings before reaching the plaza.  Something was pulling him along.  He had to find it.  It was important.  Emerging from the shadows in between the large buildings, Traven found himself in a small clearing.  In front of him rose a steep hill.  In its side lay the opening of a cave.  The cave pulsed, calling to him.  He walked towards it expectantly.  Just as he reached the entrance, a sound behind him ended the silence of solitude.

Flipping around, his eyes widened as they fell upon a huge serpent.  As the ghastly beast rose to its full height, Traven realized that there was no chance for escape.  The beast was too close.  Traven stared numbly into the glowing eyes that shown out of the darkness twenty feet above him.  The beast’s jagged teeth dripped with anticipation of fresh meat.  Traven knew if he tried to run, the beast would instantly fall upon him, devouring him in a single, effortless bite.  He slowly reached for his short, but sharp, hunting dagger and unsheathed it silently.  If he was destined to die, he would at least sting this horrible beast in a last act of defiance.  As he contemplated whether he should run toward the beast or wait for it to strike on its own, his hand slowly crept to the small blue gem that hung from a leather cord around his neck.  At last he would join his sister, mother and father in the afterlife.  Mockery, sickness, and hard work were not all that wonderful.  Perhaps death wouldn’t be so bad.  Filled with these thoughts, he made his decision and crouched as he readied himself to rush the horrid beast.

There was suddenly an acrid smell in the air, and his icy cheeks were abruptly warm as flames leaped from the black lips of the beast, illuminating the tops of the majestic buildings for a brief moment before the city was once more bathed in the darkness of night.  Traven smelled the sickly stench of burnt flesh as he focused on the blazing eyes of the beast for the last time.  Pain pierced his chest.  The realization suddenly came that he was smelling his own burnt flesh.  Traven was dumbfounded as he glanced down at his bare chest.  His gem was no longer a calm blue but a pulsating bright orange.  He screamed in agonizing pain as it seared through his skin and into his breast bone!

The world suddenly erupted in heat and pain, and Traven bolted upright in his bed.  He was drenched in his own sweat and the cool breeze that passed through his room gave him goose bumps.  His heartbeat slowly began to return to its normal rate as he lowered himself back onto his stiff mattress.  Traven could feel the gemstone on his bare chest.  He was relieved that it was still cool and soothing against his skin.  He welcomed the cold breeze that came through his half-opened window as it helped to erase the memory of the heat and terror of his nightmare.  He had had this dream several times in the past few weeks, but this was the first time he had been burnt by something other than the beast’s flaming breath.  If these nightmares did not stop, he wondered if he would be able to get a good night’s sleep ever again.  Why must he be tormented in the solitude of his dreams?  With the smell of burnt flesh still lingering in his nostrils and the despairing conclusion that he would never feel true peace, he slowly drifted back to sleep.  He wondered what he had ever done to deserve disruptions at night after a hard day of work.

Traven woke several hours later with sunlight streaming through his window, still tired and sore from yesterday’s hauling.  He slowly pulled on his tattered pants and scuffed boots and stumbled down to the stream behind his grandfather’s cottage.  After splashing his face in a vain effort to fully wake up, he lowered the iron kettle he was carrying into the water and carried it back inside.  After starting a small fire under the kettle of water, he retrieved his hunting knife and a large knob of wood.  He slumped down onto his stool as he continued to whittle away at the knob he had been slowly working at for a week.  He was just finishing smoothing the outside and was wondering what to make out of it.  He patiently waited for his grandfather and grandmother to wake up as he wondered what shape the knob would eventually take on.  His grandfather soon came out of his bedroom looking fresh and cheerful, closely followed by his wife.

“Up early this morning!” his grandfather exclaimed as he stopped to rustle Traven’s dirty blonde hair as he crossed the room.

“The sun’s been up for an hour already Pops.  It’s just that you in your old age slept in,” Traven threw back with a grin on his face.

“Well, well.  Is that so?  I should have known that you would never rise early to get a jump on the day’s work.  And the only reason I slept in was because your grandmother and I were up late talking about your future last night, not because I am old.”

Traven went back to whittling the wood with a sigh as his grandmother began to prepare breakfast.  His grandparents were always discussing his future.  They apparently had great plans for him.  He was going to become a wealthy merchant and live in a large mansion in Calyn.  At least that is what they had been stuck on recently.  They were always talking about how he was so smart and could do anything that he wanted to.  Traven had did dream of doing great things and becoming wealthy, but he wasn’t sure that he could live up to his grandparents’ expectations.

Maybe it would be better to stay in the village and continue as a woodcutter like his father had.  Traven wasn’t afraid of trying new things, but he was afraid of failure.  The other boys of the village always made fun of him for dreaming of a life beyond the village.  He constantly lived with the fear of leaving to make his fortune only to return as a failure with nothing.  Then all of the village would mock him, the dreamer who thought he was better than the rest of them.  His grandparents told him not to worry about the villagers because there was no way that he would ever fail.  He was afraid nonetheless.  What was wrong with staying in the village anyway?  The lumber business had supported the village for as long as anyone could remember and had always been a source of pride.  Everyone knew that the best oak in the land came from the village of Oak Tree.  The village’s very name proclaimed it.  The village had gotten its name because it had been built around a massive oak tree that was so majestic nobody dared to fell it.

He was sure he could make enough money as a woodcutter to support his grandparents and a family if he worked hard, but he also knew that he would never become wealthy.  He also knew he would never be satisfied living in one place for the rest of his life.  He wanted to see all of the things that the merchant caravans talked about when they came to Oak Tree.  He wanted to see the Great Sea and the sparkling white towers of the royal palace in Calyn.  He wanted to visit the gold mines of Arcad and see the amazing . . .

“Traven! Snap out of it.  Your porridge is going to get cold if you just sit there staring out into space,” his grandmother exclaimed.  She smiled as Traven hurriedly put away his knife and sat down at the table with an embarrassed look on his face.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Oh I know. You’re always thinking about something.  That’s how I know you will be successful.  You always think deeply about everything.”

Once again his grandmother had expressed her confidence in him.  Something stirred within Traven.  In that moment he decided that he would succeed no matter what it took.  Whether he became the greatest logger in Oak Tree or the merchant his grandparents always dreamed of, he would make his grandparents proud.  He cared about them more than anything else.  They were the only family that he had left in the world.  When he was only two years old his mother and older sister had died suddenly of Aching Fever.  He grew up with only his father and had been very close to him.  He had done everything with his father until he had died.  Six years ago his father had been attacked by a bear in the forest.  Traven had been the first to find his father’s mauled and lifeless body.  His father’s stiff hand had been clenching the gem that Traven now wore around his neck.  The only things that he had left from his father were his hunting knife and the gemstone that he wore around his neck.  The blue gemstone reminded him of his father’s deep, piercing eyes.  His hand unconsciously went to the stone as he remembered his father.

“Oh my goodness!” his grandmother exclaimed.  “What happened to you?”

The sudden outburst confused Traven.  He wondered what had caused it.  He saw that his grandmother was staring at something and followed her gaze down to his chest.  His heart suddenly skipped a beat as he now saw what had startled her.  Right in the center of his chest where the stone hung was a large, fresh burn mark.  Traven continued to stare at the burn numbly as his grandmother quickly brought over a soothing ointment and gently rubbed it on the burn.  He now realized why his chest had been so sore when he woke up this morning.  The dull pain slowly faded away as the salve was worked into the burn.  He couldn’t figure out where the burn had come from.  It had only been a dream.  You could not be hurt physically in a dream.  It had only been a dream!  But what else could account for the burn on his chest?

“Don’t look so worried,” Traven’s grandfather said.  “It’s just a little burn.  Don’t think it’s going to get you out of helping me haul the lumber down to Hand’s mill.”  He chuckled as he rose from the table and went outside to get the horse hitched to the wagon.

Traven slowly rose from the table and went into his room to put on a shirt.  He still did not understand how he could have been burned.  Once he had buttoned up his shirt, he pulled out the stone and dangled it in front of his eyes studying it.  It was the same as it had always been; it was still just a deep blue gemstone.  There were no changes to the stone at all, and it was cool to the touch as usual.  Confused and still troubled, Traven went outside to help his grandfather load up the oak that they were going to take to the mill.

* * * * *

From the kitchen window, Traven’s grandmother gazed out at her grandson.  He had grown up too fast.  Tomorrow he would turn eighteen and enter full manhood.  He would no longer be her little boy.  She had always thought of him as the chubby, light haired boy with freckles that had always followed her around.  Staring at him from the window, she realized that he had grown up a lot.  He was not little anymore.  She realized for the first time just how tall he had grown.  He had to be over six feet tall, taller by far than most of the men in the village.  His hair was still slightly blond but now closer to chestnut brown and his freckles had slowly melted away.  He had finally shed his baby fat and was actually well muscled from all of the hard work he had been doing for his grandfather.  The only things that had not changed were his bluish-green eyes and his boyish smile.  He had become a rather good looking young man.  She had always thought he was handsome, but of course she would because she was his grandmother.  She knew that young women would now notice what she had always known.

She was going to miss him greatly.  Still, she knew that she needed to let him be free of the village and follow his dreams.  He could become so much more than just a simple woodcutter.  As much as she wanted him to stay, the only way he was going to become something great was with an education, and the only way he could get an education was if he left to go to one of the big cities.  She just wished that he did not have to go so far away and that it did not have to happen so soon.  As Traven finished loading up the wagon and climbed up next to his grandfather, she turned away from the window and went back to cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

* * * * *

As they started down from the farm toward the mill, Traven’s grandfather was unusually quiet.  Their trips to the mill were usually full of jokes and laughter.  This morning however, he seemed resigned.  He talked a little but mostly kept silent.  Traven wondered what had brought it on.  He had been fine this morning at breakfast.  Traven wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he was turning eighteen the next day.  He would be entering manhood, but why would that upset his grandfather?  Nothing would be any different.  He would still be the same as he always was and would continue helping his grandfather cut wood through the fall and winter.

Traven soon fell into silence as well.  He watched the trees run by on either side of the road.  The first traces of fall were finally beginning to show in the forest.  There was a crisp breeze in the air coming from the east off of the mountains and some of the trees had just begun to change their leaves.  Soon it would be cold enough that he would need a cloak, but as for now, he enjoyed the refreshing breeze.  After several minutes, the trees began to thin and give way to the small village of Oak Tree.  The village consisted of several houses and shops in a circular pattern around a large park in the center of the village that boasted the largest oak tree anyone had ever seen.

People were already milling about and several little kids were chasing each other around the oak.  Several people stopped to wave at Traven and his grandfather as they made their way through the town, past the grand oak in the middle of the park, and towards Hand’s lumber mill on the outskirts of the far side of town.

The mill was nestled alongside the swift creek that flowed along the edge of the town on its way to emptying into the Blue River.  The mill rose above the trees and towered over all of the buildings in the city.  Alongside the mill, its mammoth waterwheel was turned continually by the swift creek providing the power needed to cut the oak easily into useful lumber.  Hand’s mill was large enough to process all of the raw oak that the villagers brought in.  The lumber was then sent in huge wagon loads to a warehouse in Kavar and from there shipped all over the land.  Hand owned the only lumber mill nearby and all of the villagers had to accept the prices that he set.  He paid good money for the wood but not as much as it was worth.  Traven had often thought that maybe he could open a lumber mill in Oak Tree, when he had enough money, and create a little competition.

After they had unloaded the oak and received payment for it, they began back across town towards their home.  They had been working more than usual all summer, and Traven wondered why they were still bringing in so many loads.  He knew the money from their last couple of loads should last them through the winter, and they had already cashed in on several loads previously.  He wondered what had happened to the money, but his grandparents wouldn’t tell him.  So he was left to wonder as he had continued working hard through the end of the summer.  For some reason his grandfather then insisted that they needed to keep working through the fall and winter also.  Maybe his grandfather was so quiet because he was worrying about money.  Traven assumed that they must have plenty, but what else could he be worrying about.

As they slowly came out of the village and back into the woods towards their home, Traven’s grandfather finally spoke up.  “Traven, I have something very important to tell you.”  He then paused for several moments as if trying to decide how exactly to say what he wanted to.

“Go on Pops,” Traven coaxed.  From the look on his grandfather’s face, he didn’t know whether the news was going to be good or bad.

“The reason that we have been working so hard is because your grandmother and I have been saving up all of the money for a specific purpose.  We’ve been saving a little ever since your father died and with the extra money that we’ve made this year, we had enough money to pay for you to go to a respectable merchant school in Calyn.”  For a moment Traven sat in silence, completely dumbfounded.

“A merchant school in Calyn!” he finally exclaimed.  He could not believe it.  Calyn was the largest city in Kalia and the busiest port on the Great Sea.  It was also the home of the High King of all Kalia.  He had always dreamed of visiting Calyn, but he had never really expected that the day would ever come.  And on top of the chance of just going there, he would be going to a merchant school.  No wonder his grandparents had been talking about him becoming a wealthy merchant.  Yet, he knew that only the wealthy had enough money to send their children to a merchant school.  Oh how he wished he could go, but he couldn’t just take all of this money from his grandparents.  “Pops, I don’t think that you should spend so much money on me.  You should keep it and use it for yourself and Mams.  It really isn’t that important to me.”

“Nonsense boy.  We know you better than you think.  That’s why we’ve kept it a secret.  I’ve had the money sent to the school, and they are already expecting you.  We knew that you’d feel guilty, but now you don’t have any choice but to go.  Ah hah, you didn’t think I was that crafty did ya.  Besides, you’ve worked as hard, even harder, than I have.  Half of the money was yours anyway.”  Traven’s grandfather was grinning satisfactorily, and Traven couldn’t help but feel great as well.  He knew that his grandfather really had outsmarted him this time.  He had no choice but to go to the school.  When he glanced back at his grandfather with a smile on his face, he was surprised to find that his grandfather was no longer grinning.

“What is it?” Traven inquired slowly.

“Oh don’t worry.  It’s just that you’re going to have to leave very soon in order to make it to the school in time for the next session.  We waited until now so that you would not have time to worry about it.  I guess I’m just going to miss you.”

“How soon Pops?” Traven asked anxiously.

After a pause Traven’s grandfather slowly said, “You’re going to have to leave tomorrow.”

2

Traven was awakened by his grandmother before the sun had a chance to peek over the horizon.  It was going to be a long and busy day.  He did not think that he should have to do so much on his eighteenth birthday.  He should have been able to just sit around and relax.  However, there would be no relaxing today.  By the time he had blinked the sleep away from his eyes, his grandmother already had breakfast ready.  As he wandered into the kitchen, the smell of his favorite breakfast drifted to his nose.  He loved biscuits and mutton gravy for breakfast.  The smell made his stomach rumble.  Maybe today would not be so bad after all.

Traven settled down at the table with his grandparents and placed two large biscuits on his plate before smothering them in gravy.  He downed them quickly.  After he had put away another helping, he leaned back happily in his chair.  If his unexpected adventure started with such a delectable meal, it must be a good omen.  Maybe his birthday was not such a bad time to embark on a new life.  He started to rise from the table with the thought of changing into clothes for his journey but was stopped by his grandmother.

“Now Traven, you may be leaving today, but we didn’t forget that it was your birthday.  We did have enough money left over to buy some gifts for you.  Just you wait a minute while I go get them.”  With that she quickly disappeared back into her room.  After a few moments she reappeared with two bundles in her arms.  She carefully placed them down on the table directly in front of him.  She also pointed to a large package in the corner of the room with a smile.  Traven could not help being excited with the looks on his grandparents’ faces and the bundles lying in front of him.  “You can’t just stare at them all day.  Hurry up and open them!”

Traven didn’t need any further prodding.  He quickly began to unwrap the bundle nearest him.  Out of the package appeared a new black shirt, new black breeches, and knee high black boots with the tops turned down.  But they were not just plain clothes.  The billowing black shirt had silver embroidery along the collar and the cuffs, and the dark breeches had silver embroidery winding its way down the outside of each pant leg.  Even the boots had silver embroidery ringing them.  Traven had never seen such fine clothes in all of his life.  He thought they looked so expensive that he was not sure if he dared to actually wear them.

“These are for when you need to look really nice while at school.  You will be in a big city, not a little village anymore.  I think that you should be wearing these when you first arrive at the school.  First impressions are very important.  It won’t hurt for people to think that you have money and belong there.  Now go on and open your other presents.”

Traven broke his gaze away from the splendid clothes and focused on the next bundle in front of him.  He proceeded to bare the contents of the second bundle.  This one contained almost the same contents as the first but in a very different style.  From the bundle he produced a clean white shirt and heavy traveling breeches.  There were also dark brown traveling boots lined on the inside with fur.  On top of all the rest there was a heavy brown hooded cloak.  These clothes were not as fancy as the others, but they appeared to be well made and extremely durable.

“We figured you would need some traveling clothes for your journey.  It’s starting to get cold, and we don’t want you to freeze before you get to school.”

“Thanks so much Pops and Mams.  I don’t think I’ve ever had a better birthday.”

“Oh it’s not over yet. Open your last gift.”

Traven got up from the table and slowly unwrapped the last package that was sitting on the floor in the corner.  It was an old, well broken in saddle.  He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the saddle and turned to his grandparents with a confused look on his face.  They were both grinning crazily.  His grandfather began laughing when he saw Traven’s face.  Finally Traven’s grandmother spoke up.

“The saddle belonged to your dad Traven.  The gift really isn’t the saddle. The gift is out back.  We thought . . .”  Before she was finished Traven shot out the front door and raced around the house to the back.  There, tethered to a tree was a horse.  He could not believe it, his very own horse!  It was not a young, fiery horse, but it was a horse nonetheless.  It was an old gray horse dappled with white spots.  He was skinny and not all that tall, but he was Traven’s.  He ran over to the horse and began stroking its muzzle and patting its side.  “His name is Dapple.  He’s not all that great, but it was the best we could afford.  Better to ride an old horse than no horse at all,” explained his grandmother.  Traven had been so busy with the horse he had not even noticed that his grandparents had followed him around to the back of the house.

“There’s nothing wrong with him at all.  Dapple’s beautiful.  I can’t believe how lucky I am.  I love you both.”  With that Traven broke away from the horse and gave each of his grandparents a hug.  “I’m going to miss you both so much.  I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“Don’t start blubbering now boy.  You’re eighteen years old.  You’re a man today.  I’m sure you’ll get along fine without us.  We’re probably just holding you back.”  As his grandfather turned to head back into the house, Traven patted Dapple one last time and followed with his grandmother.  Now that he had opened all of his presents, they had to get to work.  It was still early, but he needed to leave before midday, and he still had to get all of his things together.

Traven took his new clothes into his room and added the fancy attire to his ragged pack.  He also put the hunting clothes he had been planning on wearing for his journey into the pack.  He quickly washed up and then set about putting on his new traveling clothes.  The breeches were snug and very comfortable.  He knew he would be thankful for the extra padding when the nights began to get colder.  The shirt was light enough that it was not hot, yet heavy enough to keep him warm.  Lastly he pulled on the boots.  They also fit well and seemed to mold to the form of his foot.  He folded up the cloak and stuffed it into his pack with the other clothes.  It would come in handy later, but it was still too warm for it now.

Traven took another look around his room to see if he had forgotten anything.  He noticed several snares sitting on his washstand.  He had often used them when hunting small game such as rabbits.  Those would come in handy if he got really hungry on the trip to Calyn.  Laying in the corner he also saw his sole book, The Wanderings of Gelan.  He promptly snatched it from the ground and deposited it and the snares in his pack on top of his clothes.  It was this book that had first made him dream of seeing things beyond the village.  His grandfather had given it to him when he was twelve years old, and he had read it front to back several times.  At last he would see some of the things that he had read about.  Glancing around the room, Traven realized for the first time that he really did not have many personal possessions.  After he had gathered up his clothes, a few snares, and the book, the only things that were left in his room were his small bed, a washstand, a small mirror, and an old wooden stool that was about to break.

With one last glance at the room he had lived in for so many years, Traven threw his pack over his shoulder and deserted the room.  In the kitchen, he took the large piece of wood he had been whittling and put it into his already bulging pack.  He then hung his hunting knife from his belt.  After securing his knife, he grabbed the full water skin that was on the table and swung it over his other shoulder.  He then took his father’s saddle from the corner and went around to the back of the house.  When he reached Dapple, he saddled the old horse and tied his pack to the back of the saddle.  He then untied Dapple from the tree and led him around to the front of the house.  His grandparents were already seated atop the wagon, and Traven swung up onto Dapple.  He didn’t have very much experience in riding, but Dapple was very mellow and gave him no trouble at all.

They were soon heading down the forest road.  Traven did not look back, he needed to be strong.  He was not going to think about all that he was losing but rather about all that he was gaining.  They rode silently through the woods with Traven’s grandmother glancing sadly at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.  Traven spent most of his time staring off into the trees.  He had always felt at home in the forest.  When he was young he had always gone hunting through the woods with his father.  It would be just as strange to leave the woods as it would be to leave his grandparents’ house and the village behind.  He knew from an old map that he had seen several years ago that there were not any major forests between Kavar and Calyn.  There were just rolling plains and hills with trees dotting the landscape only once in a while.  He was sure going to miss the familiarity of everything that he had been surrounded by since his birth.

Slowly the village came into view.  People milled from shop to shop and from house to house around the village going about their daily tasks.  Traven had never been really good friends with anyone in the village, but he was going to miss many of them just the same.  At least here he knew everyone’s names and what they were like.  Soon he would be surrounded completely by strangers.  It was going to be different.  It was definitely going to be different.

As they entered the village, several people stopped to wish him a happy birthday and offer him good luck on his journey.  Mrs. Crenshaw even gave him a fresh loaf of bread to take with him.  She was matron of the small inn that sat next to the park.  She was the best cook in the village.  Anyone that stopped in the village was always treated to some of her cooking.  They always left raving about the good meals at the inn.  Traven was surprised at how many people knew that he was leaving.  He hadn’t even found out until the day before.  Yet, not much ever happened in Oak Tree, so if someone was leaving, the whole village usually knew.

By the time Traven had finally said all of his goodbyes, it was nearly midday.  He was finally across the village, past Hand’s lumber mill, and ready to begin his journey.  He glanced back at the village.  This would be the last time he saw it for a while.  He realized that he really wasn’t going to miss the village so much, but he was going to miss his grandparents.  They had raised him for a good part of his life, and he hadn’t been away from them in the past twelve years for more than a few days.  He was going to be strong though.  It would not make his grandmother feel any better seeing him crying.  He put a smile on his face and turned to his grandparents.

“Well, I guess this is it.”

“Not quite yet Traven,” his grandmother replied.  “We still have a few things to give you and some advice for dealing with people in the world outside of our blessed village.”  Out from under her seat she pulled another small pack and handed it to Traven.  As he peered into it he found several dried biscuits, a large chunk of cheese, and some dried fruit.  “We don’t want you to starve on your journey.  This isn’t a lot, but it should be enough for you to snack on until you reach the shepherd community tonight.  When you finally get to the city of Kavar you can purchase more traveling food.”  With the mention of purchasing more food, Traven realized for the first time that he didn’t have any money.  It was going to be a very long trip indeed.

“Mams, I hate to tell you this, but I don’t have money to buy anything when I get to Kavar.”

“I still haven’t given you my gift,” Traven’s grandfather said.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag.  He tossed it up to his grandson.  Traven realized immediately that it was full of coins.  By the fill of it, there were quite a few.  When he looked into it, to his surprise he discovered that more of the coins were gold than they were silver or copper.

“Pops, I can’t take this much money from you.  You and Mams need it more than I do after all the money you’ve spent on me already.  Here, take it back.  I’ll get along alright.”

“Traven I thought you had some common sense.  How do you expect to pay for food and lodgings on your way to Calyn?  Did you expect everyone to just give you stuff for free?”  His grandfather paused before continuing to let what he was saying sink in.  “You’re also going to need a little extra money once you get to school for any unexpected expenses.  You’re not going to be receiving money every month from your wealthy parents like most of the other boys.  It’s just the money we got yesterday from the load we took to the mill, and we already have another small load to deliver.  Besides, how else do you expect to get money if you don’t take this with you?”

“I guess I really never thought about it.”  Traven knew that he really did need the money.  Maybe not quite so much, but his grandparents would probably be hurt if he refused any of it.  It was technically half his anyway.  He decided to make them happy.  “I’m sorry.  Thank you so much for it.” He began to tie it onto his belt next to his own money pouch that held just a few coppers.

“Are you crazy boy!  Don’t leave all of that money out in plain sight or you’re just asking for trouble.  Take out a few coins and put them in your money pouch.  Leave the rest in the bag and hide it among the clothes in your pack.”  Traven immediately followed his grandfather’s instructions.  He took a gold piece and two silvers and put them in his money pouch.  He then buried the rest in his pack.  “You’re not going to be in a small village anymore.  You need to be careful about how you present yourself and who’s watching you.  Once you get into the cities, there are thieves everywhere just waiting to steal anything they can get their hands on.  They don’t care who you are or what you’re doing.  The shop keepers are just waiting to cheat those who are ignorant.  If they think you have lots of money, they’ll charge you more than they would a poor person.  You need to make sure that you think carefully before you do anything.”

“Thanks Pops.  I’ll try to remember that. It’s just sometimes I . . .” Traven’s words were cut off as all of his breath suddenly disappeared.  He felt as if he had just been thrown against a stone wall.  The world began spinning around him, and he fell out of his saddle crumpling to a heap on the ground.  He was swimming in a cold darkness.  It was so cold that he thought he would freeze to death.  Suddenly in the distance he noticed a speck of light that grew slowly larger as he drifted towards it.  With the light also came warmth.  The light and warmth grew until there was no darkness left.  He suddenly felt tranquil and wonderful.  He had never felt such a wonderful feeling in all of his life.  He rested in peace.  Everything was perfect, yet something in the back of his mind said something was wrong.  Back of his mind, what was a mind?  Who was he?  What was he?  He was a man.  He was Traven!

The world suddenly rushed back to his senses.  He squinted in the light and looked around him.  Where was he?  Traven glanced around.  He was lying on the ground next to a horse with his grandparents bending down over him with worried looks on their faces.  Remembrance of what had happened suddenly flashed back into his mind as he unsteadily made his way to his feet.  His grandfather helped him up.  He blinked several times as he looked around.  Everything seemed different, but he could not tell how.  He felt a little different inside and things seemed sharper to him than they had before, but that was probably just because he had passed out.  What had caused him to pass out anyway?

“Are you okay Traven?” his grandmother asked worriedly.  She then took his head in her hands and felt his forehead.

“I’m fine. I just blacked out for a second.”

“Are you sure?  You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine Mams.  I feel great.”  Traven turned and pulled himself back up into the saddle.  Despite what he had said, he did not feel great.  He didn’t really feel sick either.  His stomach felt a little queasy, but more than anything, he just felt different.  He didn’t know how to explain it, but he definitely felt different.  He tried to shrug off the feeling and turned back to see his worried looking grandparents climb back up onto the wagon.  “I really feel okay.  It was probably just all of the anticipation that caused me to faint.”  That seemed to calm his grandparents a little, and his grandmother began to give him the advice that she had promised.

“Now Traven you must remember that you are not a little boy anymore.  In fact you’ve turned out to be quite a handsome young man.  Now your grandfather gave you advice about dealing with men, but I’m going to give you some advice about women . . .” Oh great, thought Traven.  As if his fainting spell wasn’t enough.  He had never had any luck with girls, and he was planning on staying clear of them as much as was possible.  His grandfather had already warned him that women were nothing but trouble.  His grandmother continued, “. . .  girls are going to play games with you and confuse you, but don’t worry, it’s all natural.  Treat them with respect, and they’ll treat you with respect.  Above all, always remember to be polite.  If you remember all of this, you should have no problems.”

Traven could see his grandfather rolling his eyes behind the back of his grandmother.  It made him chuckle a little and helped lighten the mood.  With that, his grandparents had nothing more to say but that they loved him.  He told them he loved them too and that he was going to miss them.  They finally wished each other a final goodbye and good luck.  Without anything else to say, Traven began down the road toward Kavar.  He could not believe that he was finally leaving.  His whole life would be different from now on.

He reached down his shirt and pulled out his gemstone.  He always held it for good luck whenever he was about to do something new or important.  The stone felt different this time, somehow, warmer.  As he looked down he was stunned to see that the stone in his hand was no longer a deep blue but a bright amber.  It also definitely gave off a little warmth instead of its usual coolness.  Traven had no idea how that was possible.  He thought about getting rid of it as he remembered his nightmare, but it wasn’t hot, just warm.  He couldn’t throw it away anyway.  It had been his father’s, and he quickly put it back under his shirt.  He reached down and patted Dapple, trying to calm himself.  Everything would be different now.

3

Traven glanced back one last time, but his grandparents were already out of sight.  A sinking feeling came over him.  It would be a long time before he saw them again.  He was already homesick, and he had only been riding for five minutes!  He shook the thought from his head and turned back to look in front of him.  Finally he had the opportunity to do something he had always dreamed of.  He was not going to be depressed about it.  He was going to have fun and adventure.  He was going to see the world.  He really was very lucky.  He wasn’t going to dampen the journey by worrying.  He was going to enjoy the trip and the schooling he would soon receive.  Once he had his education, he would become wealthy and travel all over the world.  Everything would work out.  He would see his grandparents again soon enough.  Finally feeling somewhat excited and hopeful, Traven nudged Dapple into a trot.

He needed to reach the next village before dark.  He had only been there once before a few years ago.  He remembered it as a small village, not even really a village but a small community, that was full of sheep herders.  His grandfather had talked to several shepherds who would be leaving in the morning to take a load of fleece to Kavar.  Traven would be able to travel with them until they reached Kavar.  It was safer to travel with others and a lot more entertaining.  He watched the trees go by as he rode Dapple down the road.  After today he would not be riding through the forest any more.  It would seem strange not to have trees closing in around him.  It would just add to the newness of everything else that he would be experiencing.  The sun continued its slow dive towards the western horizon as Traven rode on in silence, lost in thoughts of exciting and daring adventures.

By the time the sun had begun to set, he was no longer thinking of adventure.  The whole lower half of his body was in pain from riding for so long.  The inside of his legs were raw along with his backside.  He was not sure if he could keep doing this every day for a month.  Thank goodness he had these new, thick traveling pants.  He didn’t want to think about how his legs would be feeling if he had been wearing his old, threadbare breeches.  The forest slowly began to thin and then abruptly disappeared altogether.  Traven pulled up Dapple at the edge.  It made him nervous to be this much out in the open.  He felt strangely exposed.  Now he was not only uncomfortable with the feeling in his legs and backside, but he was uncomfortable with his surroundings.  In The Wanderings of Gelan, Gelan had never mentioned being tired and sore.  He began to think that adventure was not really as much fun as he had imagined it to be. Taking a deep breath, he continued out into the open.  Several minutes later the small community of sheep herders finally came into view.

Traven rode slowly down into the small community with the sun already masked by the soaring mountains behind him.  At first all that he saw were a bunch of sheep, but then he picked out someone hurrying from the nearest field to greet him.  The person turned out to be a boy of about ten carrying a shepherd’s crook.  He was dressed in wool and almost blended in completely with the sheep on account of his light, curly hair.  He stopped when he reached Traven.

“Are you Traven?”

“Yes I am. And who might you be?”

“I’m Johnny.  My dad told me to watch for you.  He said to send you to our house so you can get rested up and be fresh for the remainder of the journey to Kavar.  I wish I could travel with you men to Kavar.  When I’m a man, I’m going to take the load of wool to the city.”

“Oh, don’t be too excited about traveling, you might be disappointed when the time actually comes.”  Traven gingerly patted his rump for effect with a grimace.  The boy started laughing, and Traven asked which house was the boy’s.  Still laughing, Johnny pointed toward a modest, brick house a little farther up the road.  After thanking him, Traven slowly rode toward it.  He grimaced with every step that Dapple took toward the house.  After what seemed an eternity, he was able to lower himself from Dapple and unsteadily walk towards the front door.  It swung open before he even had a chance to knock.

“You must be Traven.  Come in, come in.  Supper is just about ready.”  Traven followed the bubbly woman into the house being careful not to let his legs rub against each other.  His nose was greeted with the smell of lamb chops, potatoes, and fresh bread.  His stomach rumbled embarrassing him.  He had not even realized until now just how hungry he was.  His mouth began to water as he glanced around the room.  On one side there was a fire glowing in the hearth.  On the rug in front of the fireplace sat two little boys rolling a ball back and forth.  They glanced up at him when he came in but quickly returned to their game.  On the other side of the room was a fairly large table surrounded by chairs.  It was already set for the meal with a steaming loaf of bread in its center.  “Oh, I’m Mrs. Crand.  I forgot to mention it.  Oh well, I’m always forgetting things.  You can go wash up while I finish setting the table.  I’m sure Joyce would love to show you where.”

“Mother!”  For the first time Traven noticed that someone had come in the front door behind him.  As he turned, he saw a pretty girl probably about a year younger than he.  She had light curly hair like her brother and her face seemed slightly flushed.  She seemed embarrassed about something, but he had no idea what.  He followed her as she led him to the back of the house where there was a water pump.  He thanked her and began to wash the dust from his hands and face.  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her still standing there staring at him.  It made him kind of nervous, but he continued on as if he hadn’t noticed.

When he finished, she was still there and offered him a rag.  He dried off his hands and then his face.  As he lowered the rag from his face, he was met with the image of Joyce still eagerly gazing at him with a smile on her face.  It was then that he actually noticed her.  She was not just a girl with curly hair but a young, attractive woman with big green eyes and rosy cheeks.  She looked rather striking in the dim evening light, and she was staring straight at him.  He accidently dropped the rag and hurried to pick it back up.  When he straightened himself, she giggled and started back to the house without a word.

“I see you’ve met my daughter.”  Traven jumped.  He had been so preoccupied he had not noticed the man that had come to stand next to him by the water pump.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”  He bent over and promptly washed up also.  Traven needed to pay more attention to what was going on around him.  “My name’s Hank.  My brother and I will be leaving with you tomorrow to take a load of wool to Kavar.  And if you don’t mind, I’m a little hungry so let’s go in and get some food.”  He didn’t need any more encouragement and hurried to follow Hank into the house.

By the time Traven and Hank walked through the door, everyone was already sitting around the table waiting for them.  Hank sat down at the head of the table and motioned for Traven to sit down and join them.  The only chair that was left was one directly across from Joyce.  Traven plopped down in the chair forgetting how sore he was and stifled a groan.  He hoped no one had noticed.  He instantly forgot about it as Mrs. Crand plopped a large potato and lamb chop on his plate.  Joyce handed him a thick slice of bread from across the table with a smile on her face.  He immediately began devouring the food from his plate.  He had already downed half of it before he realized that some of the others had not even been dished up yet.  He slowed down realizing how rude he was being.

The meal was quite interesting.  The food was absolutely delicious.  It reminded him of his grandmother’s cooking.  Traven tried to listen to Mr. and Mrs. Crand talk about shearing sheep between bites, but the two little boys were so loud playing with their food that he could barely follow the conversation.  On top of that, every time he looked up he would notice Joyce staring at him before she dropped her eyes.  It was very chaotic, but all of the noise and excitement were welcomed after the monotony and silence of the ride from Oak Tree.  After a while he worked up the courage to ask for a second helping, and Mrs. Crand gladly dished him up another serving saying that it was wonderful having someone over who appreciated her cooking.  Mr. Crand just rolled his eyes making Traven feel almost at home.

When the meal was over, Mr. Hank Crand led Traven over to a chair in front of the fireplace where they could sit and talk.  After they left the table, Mrs. Crand and Joyce cleared it off and went into the kitchen.  The two little boys ran off into the dark to take their older brother his dinner while he was taking his shift watching the sheep.  Traven had been surprised that he had not joined them for dinner but had learned that each of the older boys in the community took one night to watch over the flocks.  Wolves were known to wander out of the forest and try to snatch a sheep or two.  Since the boys had started keeping watch at night, they hadn’t lost so much as a single lamb to the wolves.  Traven grimaced again as he settled into the hard wooden chair in front of the fire.

“I couldn’t help but notice that your backside is a little raw.  I guess you haven’t ridden very much?”

“Why do you say that?” Traven asked somewhat embarrassed.  “Is it really that obvious?”

“I just noticed you sitting uncomfortably at dinner and sitting down rather carefully just now.  It’s pretty obvious to me but that could just be because I’ve gone through the same thing.  The first time I made the trip to Kavar and back, I couldn’t sit down for a week.  I’d give you something to help sooth it, but it’ll be better if you just let it toughen up.  Don’t worry about it.  You’ll be in pain for a few days but after that your skin will toughen up and it won’t bother you anymore.  As for now, you’re going to wake up very sore in the morning.”

Hank chuckled to himself and lit the pipe that he had pulled from off of the mantle.  He offered it to Traven, but he politely refused it.  Hank just shrugged and took several puffs on it.  Traven had tried his grandfather’s pipe several years back and had almost choked to death.  He didn’t understand how people could enjoy them, but many people seemed to.  They sat for a while in silence just enjoying the warmth of the fire until the two little boys burst back into the room.  They were struggling with Traven’s pack as they made their way toward him and dumped it at his feet.  He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten to take care of Dapple and bring all of his things inside with him.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to take care of my horse.  I guess I forgot to in my eagerness to eat.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.  I’ll take care of him.  You need to get some sleep.”  Traven tried to talk Hank out of it, but he insisted and finally Traven gave in.  Mrs. Crand came into the room and said that she would show him to her oldest son’s room.  Fortunatley he was watching the flocks tonight, so Traven would have the room all to himself.  He picked his pack up off of the wooden floor and followed Mrs. Crand as Joyce came into the room and began ushering the two little boys towards their room.  Traven followed Mrs. Crand into a small room at the back of the house.  She quickly lit the candle that rested on the small desk that was next to the bed.

“You better try to get as much rest as you can tonight.  Hank’s a nice guy, but he’ll wear you out on the trip to Kavar.  Everyone else takes four days to get there, but he insists on making the trip in three days.  And don’t worry about Joyce.  There aren’t many travelers who pass through here so every time someone does, she gets all googly eyed.  I guess she can’t help it, but when I was young I at least didn’t stare at strangers so blatantly.  Oops, I guess I’m getting carried away.  Anyway, I’ll be back to wake you up early tomorrow morning, so sleep well.”

As soon as she was out of the room, Traven slumped down onto the bed.  It had been a long day.  It seemed so long since he had woken up and received his birthday presents.  The events of the morning now almost seemed like a dream.  He was ready to get some sleep.  He set his pack at the base of the bed and blew out the candle.  He undressed slowly, being very careful while removing his pants.  He then slumped down into the bed.  It felt so great to be lying down on a soft bed.  He knew he was going to have trouble getting up in the morning.  He closed his eyes.  He liked the darkness.  With his eyes shut he could pretend that everything was normal and he was back in his own bedroom.

The only thing that spoiled the illusion was the unfamiliar warmth of the stone on his chest.  He had managed to forget about it until now.  He opened his eyes and glanced down at it.  He could barely make out that it was glowing in the darkness.  That was so strange.  He had never heard of a gem changing color and definitely had never heard of one glowing in the dark.  Maybe the gemstone was something really special after all.  He had always liked to think that it was incredibly valuable since his father had been gripping it when he had died, but there had not been anything to really make him believe it until now.  Maybe it really was a very valuable stone.  Traven finally drifted off to sleep with the stone clutched in his hand and his head full of thoughts of his father.

He was awakened long before the sun rose by someone tapping him on the shoulder.  He was blinded by the light of the candle in front of his face as he opened his sleepy eyes and couldn’t remember where he was at first.  As his head unclouded he remembered he was in the Crand’s house and that Mrs. Crand had said she would be waking him up early.  As his eyes adjusted to the light from the candle, he was startled to see that it was not Mrs. Crand holding the candle; it was Joyce!  Traven hastily pulled the sheet up over his bare chest and felt his face grow hot.

“My mom told me to get you up.  Dad wants to get started soon so hurry up and get your shirt on.”  After she left the room, Traven could hear her giggling as she made her way down the hall.  As soon as she was gone, he jumped up to put his breeches on and almost fell over.  His legs were extremely stiff and sore from the ride from Oak Tree.  He pulled on his breeches and gingerly tried to massage his legs as best he could.  He then threw on his shirt and picked up his pack.  By the time he got outside, Dapple was already saddled and his waterskin had been filled.

“Hurry up son!  We need to get going if we’re going to make good time.”  Traven hurried to strap his pack behind the saddle as Hank was saying goodbye to his wife and daughter.  He then went over and thanked Mrs. Crand for her hospitality, trying not to make eye contact with Joyce.  He could feel his face heating up again as he swiftly turned and carefully mounted Dapple.  Hank was already in his saddle and they started away from the house.  Hank and Traven turned in their saddles to wave one last time as they made their way toward Hank’s brother’s house.  Despite the distance and the dark, Traven was able to clearly make out the two women blowing kisses to them.

“That’s funny.  Joyce usually doesn’t blow me a kiss when I leave, just her mother.”  Hank turned back to look forward after giving Traven a quick smile.  It was a little chilly outside without a cloak, but Traven was glad for the chill wind that cooled his cheeks.

They were soon in front of Hank’s brother’s house.  He was also saying goodbye to his wife.  When he saw Hank and Traven, he kissed his wife and got up on the seat of his wagon.  The whole back of the wagon was piled high over the lip with top quality wool.  The man introduced himself to Traven as John, and then the wagon slowly began to roll down the street.  Two horses pulled the wagon, and they were shortly moving along at a respectable speed.  They soon were out of the community and heading down the road toward Kavar.

“We’ll stop in an hour or so to eat when the sun starts to come up.  My wife packed us some freshly baked muffins for breakfast.  I want to get as far as we can before we stop.  If we don’t cover enough ground, we’ll have to eat in our saddles.”

“He’s a slave driver Traven, a slave driver!”  Hank chuckled at John’s comment.  Traven tried to stay awake as they rode along.  He wished he could have slept in a few more hours.  He was still tired from the day before and extremely sore.  His legs were already on fire and the day had not even really begun yet.  He knew that it was truly going to be a rough three days to Kavar.

4

By the time the sun finally rose, Traven felt like he had already been riding for a whole day.  Hank told them they had made better time than he had anticipated.  He led them off the road to the base of a small hill.  Traven slowly dismounted from Dapple and stretched his cramped legs.  He then settled down on the soft grass in the shade of the small hill.  It felt wonderful to just lie down and rest.  After a few minutes Hank pulled out the large muffins and gave one to Traven and John.  Traven tried to make the muffin last, but it was soon gone.  It didn’t fully satisfy him, but he figured he better get used to not always having as much to eat as he wanted.  He was sure that there would be times on his journey when he might hardly have any food at all.  He took a large drink from his waterskin and decided to walk up to the top of the hill before he got too stiff.

It was hard to get his legs to take him up the hill, but once he reached the top he was glad he had made the effort.  For the first time he had a chance to see all of the surrounding countryside.  Back to the east he could faintly make out a dark line in the far distance that must have been the edge of the forest.  Above the forest he could still see the towering mountains that had always dominated the skyline back at home.  To the north, Traven could only see uninterrupted rolling plains.  Not too distant to the west, he could see a thin silvery line winding its way through the plains.  He could see that the road wandered slowly towards the silvery line and followed alongside.  Traven decided that it must be the Blue River if he remembered correctly the map he had seen.  It seemed strange to be so out in the open, but he happily noted that it did not make him uncomfortable anymore like it had the night before when he came out of the forest.

“Traven!  Hurry up and get down here.  We are on a schedule.  We have had a long enough break.”  Traven hurried down the hill as soon as Hank called his name but still had to rush to scramble atop Dapple so as not to be left behind.  They were soon back on the road and making their way around the base of the hill.  He could still barely make out the silver line in the distance far ahead of them and asked if it was in fact the Blue River.

“Well the Blue River is in front of us,” John replied wrinkling his forehead.  “You can see it from here?”  Traven nodded.  John squinted in the distance and shook his head.  “We’ll reach it sometime around midday.  Once we get to it, the road will follow it all the way to Kavar.  That’s one of the good things about the road to Kavar, you never run out of fresh water.”  It took them longer than Traven thought it would to reach the river.  He was learning that it was hard to tell distances on the plains, because he could see so far unobstructed.  As they finally pulled alongside the Blue River, Traven gazed down into the water.  He had heard that it was called the Blue River because the rocks that lined it were dark blue, but the rocks seemed more black than blue to him.  He guessed that people would rather drink water from a blue river than a black river.  The river flowed along swiftly and was several spans across.  He was amazed by the size of the river.  He had never seen a body of water larger than the creek at Oak Tree.

“What are you staring at Traven?  It’s just a small river.  When you see the Adrinavelle you won’t even remember this little thing.”

Traven wasn’t sure if Hank was serious or not, but he ripped his gaze away from the river.  They continued on at a steady pace down the road.  As the day continued on, it became hotter and Traven became sorer.  Hank and John kept arguing about something having to do with whether or not they had gotten more wool this trip or the last.  Traven only half listened as they bantered back and forth between each other.  They never really had anything interesting to say, but he definitely preferred traveling with them than traveling alone.  Whenever he tried to ask them about the city, they would just tell him to wait and see for himself.  Hank would always say that the anticipation of what the city was like would be far more interesting than the city.  However, John said that the city was truly amazing and that Traven would love it when they finally reached Kavar.  When the sun was directly overhead, they stopped to eat quickly and fill up their water skins.

They had barely gotten off their horses when Hank had them back up again.  Traven rode on in silence wondering if the day was ever going to end.  He was not sure if he could spend two more days traveling at this pace.  John kept assuring him that it really was not that bad and after another day he would be used to it.  He was not sure if he believed John, but figured that it had to get easier over the next couple of days or he was going to die.

“Hey Traven, have you heard about that army that’s being raised in the north of Balthus?”

“An army?” Traven exclaimed excitedly as his wandering thoughts vanished.

“That’s what I said.  My neighbor took a load of wool into Kavar a few weeks ago and heard all about it.”

“It’s just a rumor John.  Don’t fill the boy’s head with a bunch of nonsense.”

“It’s not just a rumor Hank.  There were several people in Kavar who had actually seen the army.”  John then turned back to Traven.  “Apparently there is an army that’s being raised in northern Balthus.  No one’s sure exactly why it’s being raised.  Some say it’s just some noble who wants more land but others are saying that it’s a powerful wielder trying to cleanse the world.  It seems that it’s made up of mostly bandits and shady characters.  People who are looking for excuses to pillage and kill are flocking to the army.  I can’t believe that this army can be anything but trouble if it’s made up of a bunch of rascals.  The army hasn’t done anything yet, but the people of Beking are getting pretty nervous.  They’re demanding that the Empress of Balthus send her army north to disperse the group, but the Empress hasn’t done anything yet.  In my opinion, I think she doesn’t really care about the people in Beking.  She’ll probably just keep most of her army to protect her palace in Rankdra.  I don’t think she really cares about anyone but herself.”

“John, don’t go criticizing rulers that you don’t know anything about.  You’re acting like you’re an expert on all of this, but all you’ve heard are rumors that have passed through so many different people that they probably don’t have any truth in them at all.”

“You can say whatever you want, but you can’t deny that the High King, may he live long and prosper, has issued a call throughout Kalia for new recruits for the army.  He is bulking up the army for some reason.”

“Are they really strengthening the army?”  Traven could not believe it.  The army of Kalia was only strengthened when the High King was worried of being attacked or if there were any uprisings in the land.  Traven couldn’t remember there ever being a need to strengthen the army in his lifetime.  His grandfather had once mentioned something about a war when he himself was young but that there had never been any really big problems since then.  Fifty years ago there had been a war with Cydus over the port city of Argont.  That was the last time the army had been bulked up.  The first time in fifty years the army was being strengthened to deal with a problem and he was heading straight for Calyn.  Maybe he would get some adventure yet.  It sure would be interesting to see a grand army.

“John’s not making that part up.  Our neighbor actually brought a notice from Kavar inviting people to join the army.  The wages of soldiers have been raised, and I’m sure that young, empty headed men from all over Kalia are hurrying to answer the invitation with false hopes of adventure.”

“What’s wrong with being loyal to the High King, may he live long and prosper?  Do you think that those who support the High King are stupid?” Traven answered defensively.

“That’s not what I meant.  It’s just that these kids don’t know what they’re getting themselves involved in.  War brings nothing but death and sadness.  It’s not as glorious as all the tales make it sound.  Our father fought in the High King’s army when he was young to calm a rebellion in Argont about thirty years ago.  He came back without one of his hands.  I don’t suppose you young kids think about that in your fantasies.”

Traven suddenly felt bad for what he had said.  He had not meant to accuse Hank of not being loyal to the High King.  He apologized, but Hank said it did not bother him at all; he knew that Traven was just young and had a lot of fire in his belly.  Hank then rode a little ahead of him and John.

“Don’t worry about it Traven.  Hank’s just too serious about everything.  It wasn’t you that upset him.  He’s upset because his boy wanted to run off and join the army.  It has been a touchy subject for the past week.”  Traven glanced ahead at Hank’s back and decided to drop it.  He continued to talk about the rumors of the army in Balthus with John.  He got so lost in the discussion that he was happily surprised when he realized that the sun was beginning to set.  Hank rejoined them and said that it was almost time to stop but of course he wanted to cover just a little more ground first.

By the time they finally pulled off the road, it was almost completely dark.  They set up camp off to the right of the road.  John gathered several of the dry, thorny bushes that seemed to grow all over the plains and started to build a small fire.  He called the bushes thornweed and said that they actually burn for quite a long time and make good fodder.  As soon as the fire was going, Hank pulled out a small pot from under the seat of the wagon and sent Traven to go and fill it up with water.

Traven took the pot and headed for the river.  He crossed the road and slowly made his way down to the edge.  As he bent to fill the pot, he noticed that he could see all of the stars reflected in the water.  Gazing at the river was almost the same as gazing at the sky.  It was beautiful.  It was hard to imagine how many stars there were above.  He suddenly felt insignificant under such a large canopy of never-ending sparks of light.  Slowly the stars in the river began to wink out.  As he glanced at the night sky he could make out the clouds that were rolling in.  He quickly filled the pot and made his way back to camp.

“Some clouds are moving in.  Do you think we’re going to get some rain?”  Hank and John peered up at the sky as Traven set the pot down near the fire.  After a few seconds Hank shook his head and looked back at Traven.

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to travel in any rain, but it looks like we might just get caught.  Don’t worry about it raining on you tonight.  Those aren’t rain clouds, but rain clouds are almost certain to follow them.  We’ll probably run into rain sometime tomorrow morning.  We better eat quickly and get some sleep.  We need to start early and get as far as we can before the rain bogs us down.”

Hank put the pot on the fire and started to cut vegetables into the water.  He then cut in some mutton and threw some spices over the top for flavor.  After the water had boiled for a while, Hank pulled the pot off of the fire and pulled out a wooden bowl and spoon.  John did likewise, and Hank began to spoon the stew into their bowls.  Hank then turned and looked at Traven.

“Well are you going to get out your bowl and have some stew or not?  We’re not going to wait all night for you.”

“Um, I don’t have a bowl,” Traven replied sheepishly.  “I didn’t even think about needing one.”

“You don’t have a bowl?” Hank asked incredulously.  “How did you expect to eat food if you didn’t have a bowl and spoon?”

“Hank, don’t be so hard on the boy.  This is the first time he’s traveled.  Traven, you can use my bowl and spoon after I’m done eating as long as you clean up after the meal for me.”

Traven thanked John and settled down to wait for him to finish eating.  He watched them eat trying to keep his stomach from growling.  After having a second helping, John handed his bowl and spoon to Traven and went over to the wagon.  Traven quickly dished up a large bowl of the stew and downed it quickly.  He emptied the rest of the stew into his bowl and walked over to see what John was doing.  He had pulled out a large tarp from under the wagon seat and was tying two of its corners to the seat.

“This is just in case it does rain tonight.  If this wool gets weighed down with water, we’ll be moving at a snail’s pace.  We keep this tarp in the wagon just in case something like this comes up.”  Traven helped him pull the tarp the rest of the way over the cargo and fastened his corner down.  He then took John’s bowl and spoon and the pot down to the river to wash them.  When he returned, both John and Hank were already curled up next to the coals of the fire.  Traven could hear their breathing come at slow, steady intervals, and he put the newly cleaned utensils away as quietly as he could.

He then pulled out his cloak and settled down on the other side of the fire.  He lay there feeling the hard ground beneath him.  He certainly missed sleeping in a bed.  However, he was grateful to be laying down.  He just couldn’t get comfortable no matter how he positioned himself.  He should have been able to sleep instantly with how tired he felt.  Instead he reviewed the events of the last couple of days over and over in his mind.  Thinking that he would never get to sleep, exhaustion finally overtook him, and he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Traven was shaken gently awake by John before the sun rose.  They had a quick breakfast of stale biscuits and cheese as they mounted and started down the road.  The sky was full of scattered clouds, but none of them looked like they carried rain.  Traven pulled out the knob of wood that he had been carving and set about shaping it into a bowl and a spoon as they rode.  He was determined to be self-sufficient.  He was glad he had brought the knob of wood.  It would definitely come in handy once it was a bowl.  He carefully carved out a chunk of the wood that would be big enough for a spoon and then started hollowing out the knob to make a bowl.  The bowl would not be very big but it would serve its purpose.  It was not going to be perfectly round either, but he figured he could smooth it out later when he had more time.  The morning passed quickly away as Traven concentrated on the knob.  There had not been any rain to bother them, but when they were getting ready to stop for lunch, black clouds could be seen rolling on the eastern horizon.

“It looks like it’s gonna be a good one.  Do you think we can outrun it Hank?” John said with a large smile and raise of his eyebrows.

“Quit joking around.  You won’t think it’s so funny when the storm catches up to us.  Let’s speed up our pace a little and maybe we’ll be at a stopping point before it gets too bad.”  They kept on going without stopping for lunch and ate more of the stale biscuits and cheese from atop their mounts.  Traven continued carving away at the knob of wood despite the cramp in his hand and was almost finished with the bowl when a few cool drops of water hit his face.  Soon it started to sprinkle.

“Better get out your cloaks fellows,” Hank said with a frown.  “It looks like it’s going to pour.”

Traven promptly donned his new cloak and was pleased to see that the water beaded off of it nicely.  It started to sprinkle a little harder but not that much, so he continued whittling away.  He was able to finish the bowl and was admiring his work when there was a loud crack overhead and the heavens finally opened.  It began pouring so hard that he had difficulty putting the bowl into his pack without getting his packed clothes drenched.  He then turned back and peered through the rain ahead of him.  He could just make out Hank in front of him and John with the wagon to his right.  The dirt road was fast becoming mud, slowing their progress.  The horses kept plodding on, churning the mud with each step.  As the wind began to pick up, it brought with it a chill that foretold of the fast approaching winter.  Traven pulled his cloak tighter around his body and face trying to keep himself warm and dry.

The rain continued on for the rest of the day and into the night.  They camped on a small hill off the road where the ground was not as boggy as the lower land all around.  John parked the wagon on the very top of the hill, and they all climbed under it to sleep.  Traven was surprised to find that the wagon actually provided fairly good shelter from the storm.  The ground beneath them was still damp, but the rest of the rainwater ran down the hill away from them.  The ground was softer than it had been the night before, but it was still far from comfortable.  The dampness seeped into his bones.  Eventually, the splashing of the raindrops slowly lulled him to sleep.

The rain lasted all through the night and into the morning.  By the time they started out though, it had weakened to a slow drizzle.  The drizzle lasted all day and they continued to ride in soggy silence.  The wagon almost got stuck several times, but the two horses were able to pull it out.  Toward evening the storm finally started to break up.  Traven was grateful when the rain finally stopped, and he whittled a spoon from the leftover wood.  When he finished, he slowly put the spoon away feeling quite proud of himself.  Ahead of them the road rose slightly, and the sun was hidden from view behind it.  It looked as though he would have to spend yet another uncomfortable night sleeping on the ground before they finally reached Kavar.

“How much farther are we going to have to ride tomorrow to reach Kavar?”  Hank just looked back at him with a grin on his face, and John pointed ahead.  Traven looked ahead confused.  As they came over the rise, there, silhouetted against the setting sun rose the great walls of Kavar.  Traven’s jaw dropped in amazement at its immense size.  He had not imagined that a city would be so large.

“Didn’t they tell you that Hank always makes the journey in three days?”

5

Traven could not stop staring with wide eyes as they slowly made their way down the rise towards the east gate.  The gray walls rose thirty feet out of the ground.  Atop the walls, towers squatted as they gazed over the surrounding countryside.  An enemy could be spotted miles away from the towers, and never had an army breached the city’s walls.  The tops of several buildings could be seen even above the walls, their roofs covered with bright red and blue tiles.  The sun reflected off the colorful roofs dazzling the eye.

Traven was so intent on the city that he was startled when they arrived at the bridge that they would need to cross to get to the city.  The bridge was not what startled him.  It looked sturdy enough.  It was wide enough for two wagons to easily fit across it side by side and made of strong stone blocks.  The thing that startled him was how much water flowed under the bridge.  The Adrinavelle was much larger than he had ever imagined.  It dwarfed the Blue River that emptied into it further to the west.  The river rushed past in front of them making him feel insignificant.  The Adrinavelle had to be at least twenty spans across!

The stone blocks rang as they slowly began to cross the bridge over the river.  Traven was surprised that they were the only people in sight.  He had expected a lot more traffic near such a large city as Kavar.  It was surprisingly quiet.  He could not see anyone entering or leaving the city as they slowly approached the east gate.  He was even more surprised to see that it was closed.  John had told him that the gate stayed open until after dark and was opened very early in the morning.  As Traven glanced over at Hank and John, he found that he was not the only one who was confused.

“There’s still at least an hour of light left!” Hank exclaimed.  “Why are the gates already closed?”  He shook his head with a sour look on his face as they got closer and closer to the walls.  As they pulled up in front of the gate, a guardsman slipped out from a small door that was almost invisible in the wall next to the gate.  Traven realized it had been painted to resemble the stones of the wall.  The gate sentry advanced towards them cautiously trying to look in every direction at once as if expecting an ambush.

“What might you be doing coming to Kavar so late?” the grizzled guard demanded suspiciously.

“What do you mean late?” Hank demanded right back.  “I can’t remember the gates ever being closed this early in all the years I have been selling sheepskin.  Why don’t you tell me why the gates are closed so early?”

“Whoa there shepherd.  Calm down.  You mean you really haven’t heard the news?”  When Hank shook his head the guard continued on.  “The countryside is full of bandits.  No one living outside the walls of the city dares to even step out of their homes after sunset.  There are plenty of caravans and farmers that have been attacked in the last couple weeks.  The only safe time to travel is during the light of day.  The gates have been ordered to stay shut from sunset to sunrise.  I’ll see what I can do though.  I can’t just leave you out here with bandits about.  Just wait a minute.”

The guard slipped back through the door and left them standing there wondering if there really were bandits nearby.  John said that they had not seen any bandits so far and probably would not now, but he would still rather sleep in a comfortable bed tonight than on the ground again.  After several minutes, the gate still had not opened.  Hank suggested that they might as well find a good spot to set up camp, but as they turned to leave, the gates slowly began to creak open.  The gate stopped when it was just wide enough for the wagon to slip through and immediately began to close again after they squeezed through it.  They thanked the guards and slowly made their way deeper into the city.

On either side of the street, shops were beginning to close up.  People dotted the streets as they finished up the errands of the day.  Here most of the shops were two stories.  It felt strange to have buildings towering all around him.  Back at home only Hand’s mill had been taller than a single story.  All of the buildings here seemed to be at least two stories.  They turned down the first street that crossed the one they were following and headed north towards the warehouses.  Hank explained that all of the warehouses were built around the northern gate.  By the time they reached the warehouse where they sold their sheepskins, it was beginning to get dark.  Even in the dark Traven could see that the warehouses towered above all of the shops around them.  Traven was sure that some of the warehouses had to be at least four stories.  The height of the buildings was somewhat offset by their width.  They didn’t seem quite so tall with their bases being even wider than they were tall.  They all seemed so immense to Traven.

Hank and John turned into one of the smaller warehouses.  A short, balding man was waiting for them just inside the large doors.

“I was wondering if you fellows were going to make it or not.  I have some weavers that will be glad to know your shipment has arrived.  You’ve brought the first shipment of wool that’s come into the city since the bandits started raiding the highways.  It’s unfortunate, but it means more money for us,” he said with a wide grin.  “By the way, who’s the boy?  He isn’t one of yours is he?”

“Oh, sorry,” John replied.  “This is Traven.  He was traveling with us.  He’s headed to a merchant school in Calyn.  Traven this is Mr. Sottle.  He has been doing business with our family for years.”

Traven shook the old man’s hand and then followed as he led them up some stairs to where he lived.  Hank and John continued to talk with Mr. Sottle as Traven followed them into a small room and sat with them.  He didn’t really pay attention to what they were talking about.  He was tired, and they were discussing boring things like wool prices and quality.  The room was not as small as Traven had at first thought.  It only seemed small in comparison to the rest of the building.  On the far side of the room there was a small table covered with papers where it appeared Mr. Sottle did his clerical work.  There was also a small dinner table and a wood carving of a hawk in flight.  The eyes of the hawk glittered back at him, and he realized that they were actually jewels.  As he took a closer look around the room he realized that Mr. Sottle was definitely not a poor man.  The legs of the table were spidered with veins of gold, and the fragile looking vases around the room suddenly took on another meaning.  He could now see all of the treasures displayed around the room.  Maybe he really would be wealthy once he completed merchant school.  He was pulled from his thoughts abruptly by something Mr. Sottle was saying.  They were no longer discussing boring subjects but were talking about the bandits.

“I can’t say how many there are out there, but there are definitely enough to slow down trade.  Barron Gregor has been sending out troops to clean them up only a few lone thieves have been found.  If you ask me, I don’t think that the problem is just a bunch of groups of ragtag bandits.  I think it is an organized group of them.  The group can’t be too large though or they would be easier for the Barron’s troops to find.  Then again, there has to be quite a few together, because they’ve overpowered a merchant train that had over twenty guards, and they also overpowered a small detachment of soldiers that went out scouting at night.  I haven’t seen it this bad in a long time.  It probably has something to do with the army that’s supposedly being raised in Balthus.  Bandits are beginning to think that just because the Empress of Balthus is allowing an army to be raised, that the High King, may he live long and prosper, will let them do that here.  The royal army of Kalia is bulking up just in case there are any problems.  Barron Gregor has sent to Calyn for some troops to help his own soldiers stop anything here before it gets out of hand.  Hopefully things will be back to normal in a couple of weeks.”

“I hope so too.  What’s the world coming to when you can’t travel safely without a stinking army to protect you,” Hank spat.  “Bandits or not, I’m still going to head home tomorrow.  I’m not going to sit around in the city for weeks waiting for Barron Gregor to get the troops he needs to clear out the bandits.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about it too much.  If you guys made it here without any problems I think that you can make it back safely.  If I were you I would leave tomorrow as soon as the gates open up and get as far away from the city as you can before stopping for the night.  Most of the attacks have occurred north and west of the city.  With luck you won’t run into any bandits, and even if they see you, you won’t have anything of value to entice an attack.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so.  As for the prices of sheepskin, I wouldn’t mind if they stay the same.  If they do, I’ll be able to . . .”

Traven quit listening again.  Bandits everywhere!  That sounded more like adventure than sleeping in the rain.  Too bad they weren’t attacked by some on the way to Kavar.  He would have taken his hunting knife and, and . . . well he would have done something.  Maybe it was better that they hadn’t run into any bandits.  He was not sure how good his hunting knife would have been against a group of bandits.  What he needed was a sword.  Yeah, he definitely needed to get a sword.  With a sword he would be able to fight against the bandits.  If they came upon him, he would unsheathe his sword and put an end to those foolish bandits who tried to attack him.  He would slice and dice and . . .

“Helloooo in there.”  Traven jerked out of his thoughts and noticed that all three of the men were staring at him.  It was John who had addressed him.  “Are you just going to sit there all night staring off into space with that stupid grin on your face?  I don’t know about you, but I’m tired and want to get to an inn so I can get some real sleep before I leave in the morning.”

“Sorry,” Traven said as he jumped out of his seat and followed them back down the stairs.  The wagon was already unloaded even though he had never seen the workers in the warehouse who had unloaded it.  The workers must have done it while they were upstairs talking.  Hank took the gold coins that Mr. Sottle handed him for the sheepskins and put them in a large leather pouch at his belt.

“I don’t care how safe it’s supposed to be in the city.  I never let my gold out of sight.  You remember that Traven and you’ll never get it stolen.”

“That’s true enough but make sure you don’t go walking down dark alleys or you’ll get more stolen than just the money you’re displaying for everyone to see,” John chuckled.

With all of the business taken care of, Hank and John shook hands with Mr. Sottle and led Traven back out of the warehouse and onto the street.  Night had crept up on the city and engulfed it in darkness while they had been in the warehouse.  All of the buildings around were dark and there was no one to be seen out and about on the streets.  Traven muffled a yawn with his right hand as he started Dapple down the street after Hank.  He led them down the streets turning every few minutes.  He told Traven that all of the good inns were toward the center of the city and with all the money he had just gotten he was going to get a very comfortable bed and some very good food.  Traven followed in silence as they made their way through the city.  The moon only gave off a little light and most of the buildings that they passed were bathed in shadows.  It was hard to tell in the dark, but he was almost certain that some of the buildings that towered over the street were at least four or five stories tall.

At last Hank turned the final corner, and Traven found himself in a large square.  He could make out in the darkness a statue in the center of the square.  On the far side rose an immense building to rival the warehouses in size.  John told him that it was the Barron’s palace and it was a sight to see in the daylight.  Across from the palace there were several large inns with their doors wide open, spilling light into the square.  Hank headed for one of the smaller ones.

“I may have quite a bit of money right now Traven, but believe me, if I went into one of those bigger inns, I would have to spend almost all of it.  By the way, do you have enough money for the inn John and I are staying at?  There are several inns that are a lot more affordable down that side street over there.”

“I’m pretty sure I have enough,” Traven replied thinking of all of the gold coins his grandparents had sent with him.  He figured he had enough to stay at one of the biggest inns.  It couldn’t really cost as much as Hank had implied.  With Traven’s reassurance that he had plenty, they took their horses into the stables to the right of the inn that Hank had chosen.  Several stable boys scrambled quickly down from the loft to take the horses.

“Make sure that they get really good care.  And give them each some good oats.”  Hank tossed the stable boys a silver and then left the stables and headed for the front of the inn.  Traven could not make out the name of the inn in the dark but could see a picture of what appeared to be a blazing fire on the sign above the door.  As they entered the common room of the inn, they were bathed in the music of laughter and the sweet aroma of hot food.  There were people everywhere milling about the common room.  Hank led them to one of the only empty booths along the side of the room.  With the smell of warm food, Traven realized how hungry he was.  His stomach growled as soon as they sat down.  A plump serving woman with a welcoming smile was soon at their table asking what she could do for them.  Hank and John ordered a mug of ale and a roasted pheasant each.  Traven thought it sounded pretty good and decided to order a roasted pheasant as well with his hot apple cider.  He glanced around the room and looked at all of the different people.  They all appeared to be wealthy merchants by the look of them.  A few even appeared to be Balthuns.  They all seemed to be better dressed than he and his companions.

Traven was promptly interrupted from his study of the room with the appearance of the food he had ordered.  Hank slipped the waitress a tip, and she grinned and bobbed a curtsy before wandering off to another table.  The food looked so inviting.  Traven dug in immediately.  Around the pheasant there were potatoes and other vegetables that he devoured first.  After taking a long drink from his mug, he swiftly made the pheasant disappear.  Soon all that was left on his plate were bones and a little juice from the tender pheasant.  With the weight of the food in his stomach and the warm cider in his belly, his eyelids began to droop.  He shook his head.  He could not fall asleep yet.  He had just barely gotten to the city.  Yet, despite all of his determination to stay awake he slowly began to fade away.

“Looks like I’m not the only tired one,” John said with a yawn.  “Come on Traven.  Let’s go find us some rooms.”  Traven slowly got to his feet and followed Hank and John over to the innkeeper.  He was a very skinny man with only a little grey hair left on his head, but he had on a polite smile as they approached him.  Hank told the innkeeper that they needed two rooms, and they were soon following him up the stairs and down a hall brightly lit by oil lamps along the walls.  The innkeeper stopped at the end of the hall.  He opened the last two doors and turned to them.

“I’m sorry that these aren’t the best rooms in my inn, but they should be comfortable enough.  All of the inns in the city are unusually full for this time of the year.  There have been a lot of people coming into the city from the countryside because of the bandits, and many of the merchants are content to just stay here until the trouble has all been cleared up.  Anyway, I hope that you fellows have a comfortable night’s sleep.”  With that the innkeeper turned and walked back down the hall.  Hank and John wished Traven pleasant dreams.  They also told him goodbye and that it was nice getting to know him.  They would be leaving early in the morning.

“I hope you make it to Calyn safely.  Don’t leave the city by yourself or you’re almost sure to be attacked by these bandits.  You should be able to find a merchant caravan that will be leaving soon for Calyn.  It would be best to travel with one of them for protection.”  After a few more suggestions, Hank and John disappeared into the room on the left with a final goodbye for Traven and a wish that his journey went well.

Traven turned to the door on the right and pushed it open.  It was too dark to really make out much of the room, but he did not bother to light any of the candles in the room as he shut the door behind him.  He slipped his belongings onto the floor in the back corner of the room and almost didn’t even take the time to slip out of his traveling clothes before dropping onto the luxuriously soft bed.  It was bigger than the one he was used to sleeping on at home, and he stretched out contentedly on it.  After a few seconds he slipped under the covers, and before he could even plan all of the wonderful things he was going to do in the morning, he was fast asleep.

6

Traven’s eyes shot open.  Someone else was in his room.  He stayed completely still and listened.  To the right of his bed he could hear quiet breaths of air.  Just in time he saw a flash of metal bearing down on him.  He rolled over with lightning speed as the blade embedded itself in his pillow sending feathers flying into the air.  Traven shot out of his bed and ran out the door.  He continued as fast as he could down the hall, stairs, and out of the silent inn.  Behind him he could hear the footfalls of his pursuer getting closer.  He had to run faster!

He turned down a street and then down another, pumping his legs as fast as he could.  Glancing back, he saw the thin tower rising in the distance.  It rose out of the billowing fog, standing majestically as a black void in the night sky.  Traven turned away from the dark tower and continued on.  Buildings stood silently on both sides of the avenue until they were stopped abruptly by a grand plaza.  He turned down a side street between two large buildings before reaching the plaza.  Someone was following him, but something else was pulling him along.  He had to find it.  It was important.  Emerging from the shadows in between the large buildings, Traven found himself in a small clearing.  In front of him rose a steep hill.  In its side lay the opening of a cave.  The cave pulsed, calling to him.  He walked towards it expectantly.  Just as he reached the entrance, a sound behind him reminded him why he had been running.  His pursuer had caught up with him.  Traven turned just in time to see the sword being thrust into his stomach!

Traven shot up in bed with sunlight streaming through his window.  He sighed with relief as he tried to calm his breathing.  It had only been a nightmare.  He let his body drop back down and stretched out in the comfortable bed that he was lying on.  He had not slept in something so comfortable in all of his life.  Despite the nightmare, he was feeling quite refreshed.  With the light streaming through the window, he was able to get his first real look at the room.  There was a large, dark wardrobe carved with designs all over the front against one of the walls of the room.  On the other side of the room there was a washstand with a large mirror and a bowl full of water to clean up with.  Underneath the window there was a sturdy chair padded on the seat with a fluffy cushion.  He wondered what the other rooms in the inn looked like if this was one of the worst.  This inn must have really been as good as Hank had said the night before.  Traven slowly made himself get out of the luxurious bed.  He washed up quickly and pulled on his clothes.  He hung his cloak in the wardrobe.  He took the rest of his possessions and set them in the bottom of the wardrobe after he had taken his small pouch that contained only a few gold tallies and coppers and his hunting knife.  He wanted to have at least some protection as he walked around the city.  Traven found a small key on the washstand that locked the wardrobe and slipped it into his pocket with the assurance that his belongings would be safe while he was gone.

As soon as he had taken care of everything in the room, he slipped out the door and tried not to run down the hall.  He would finally get the chance to see the city in daylight.  A whole new day awaited him.  It was going to be wonderful.  As he emerged into the common room, he was surprised to find that it was vacant.  Confused as to the absence of all of the patrons of the inn he approached the lady that had served him the night before and inquired about breakfast.  He was starving and felt as though he had not had anything to eat at all the previous night.

“So boy, you finally decided to get up did ya.  I thought maybe you’d sleep the whole day away.  I don’t know if there is anything left from breakfast, but I’ll go and see what I can dig you up.”  She set the broom she had been using to sweep with against the wall and disappeared through the doors that led to the kitchen.  Confused, Traven walked over to the common room door and peered outside.  The sun was already well up in the sky.  His heart sunk as he realized that it must already be midmorning.  Upset with himself for sleeping in and losing several hours of exploration, he made his way to one of the tables by the kitchen and waited for the serving woman to return.  No wonder he was so hungry.

The serving woman returned after a couple minutes with a steaming platter that she quickly set before him.  Traven thanked her and apologized for being so late.  She just chuckled and went back to sweeping the floor of the common room.  He was more than pleased with what she had been able to dig up.  There were several sausages, a large poached egg with strangely enough a bluish yoke, some strawberries, and a roll that was still moist and warm.  To top it all off there was even fresh, cool goats milk to drink.  All the food disappeared quickly, not only because he was starving but also because he wanted to make up for the time he had lost by sleeping in so late.  As soon as it was gone, Traven jumped up from the table and hurried outside.

He was planning to walk across the square to look at Barron Gregor’s palace before venturing out into the city but instead was stopped by a solid wall of human flesh.  There were people everywhere milling about the large square.  He had expected some people but not nearly this many!  Above the heads of the people, the lone statue he had seen the night before could be seen.  It was of a man sitting astride a rearing horse and thrusting a mace into the air.  He wondered who it was or who it had been.  From his perch on the front steps of the inn, he could see over the heads of the people that were making their way from one side of the square to the other and saw that most were flowing in and out of two streets on the east side of the square.  Several coaches were also moving slowly through the crowd.  At first he had planned on riding Dapple around the city, but he now realized that he could probably navigate through the crowds easier on foot.  Besides, he had many days of traveling left yet in the saddle, and even the good night’s sleep had not gotten rid of all his soreness.

After watching the crowd for a while, Traven decided that it would be easier to follow the flow of traffic into one of the side streets rather than trying to cut straight across the square to the palace.  He could make his way to the palace later.  He took a deep breath and plunged into the crowd and headed to the east side of the square.  He was jostled a little but navigating through the crowd wasn’t as bad as he’d expected.  How that many people could move across the square without bumping and shoving amazed him.  He learned that as long as he moved with the same speed as everyone else, he didn’t have any problems bumping into the others in the crowd.

Before he expected, he was out of the square and down one of the side streets.  After being swept down the street for a ways, Traven realized that he needed to work his way to the edge of the street or he would continue to be herded in the same direction that he was going.  He slowly started to make his way to the right side of the street.  As he got nearer the edge, he noticed that people were breaking off from the crowd and heading down narrow side streets that linked with the main avenue that he was on.  He decided to see what these narrow side streets held and immediately turned down the next one that he passed.

Here he was able to breathe a little easier.  There were still people on this street but not so many that you were pressed in on all sides.  Both sides of the narrow street were lined with stalls as far down the street as he could see.  It appeared to be a market of sorts.  That must be what all of the side streets going off of the main avenue were, little markets.  The bustle and hurry of the avenue was absent here as people slowly made their way from stall to stall purchasing what they had come for.  Some people from behind the booths called out their wares and that they had the best quality and prices.  Others seemed satisfied to let the customers come of their own accord.  Traven decided that as long as he was here, he might as well see what the stalls had to offer.  Maybe he would even find something that was interesting or useful.  He did have a few coins in his pouch and if he found anything that he needed, he would probably have enough money to buy it.

Traven quickly passed by the first stall on his right.  The old lady behind the counter was only selling ribbons and other frilly things.  The next stall was more interesting.  It held a wide assortment of belts and belt buckles.  The belts were made of good leather and the buckles ranged from simple to ornately worked designs.  He found one buckle that really caught his eye.  It was a golden, coiled snake with gleaming eyes and fangs.  He almost asked how much it was but then remembered that he was not a merchant yet and did not have enough money to spend it on gaudy things that he did not need.  He backed away from the stall and headed on down the street.  Staying in such a fine inn must have muddled his head.  A couple of days ago he would not have even considered buying something that expensive without any practical uses.  He better be careful or he would end up wasting all of his money before he ever reached school.

Traven continued walking down the street looking at the stalls as he passed.  Everything that could be sold was being sold on this street.  There were stalls selling useful things such as cups, bowls, and needles.  There were stalls selling frivolous things such as jewelry, glass dolls, and feathers.  There were chickens and goats being sold.  There was even a stall that was selling nothing but frogs!  The market changed suddenly into a food market where an even narrower street cut across.  Every type of fruit and vegetable imaginable was on display.  There were many fruits and vegetables that he recognized and many more that he did not.  He turned down the smaller street that cut across and soon found it opening on a slightly larger street lined with stalls.  It was almost identical to the last one he had been on except for here the stalls were slightly larger and the patrons of the stalls were people who appeared to have more money than those on the last street.

Traven had barely started down past the larger stalls when he saw something that he needed, a saddlebag.  When he had left from Oak Tree he thought that his pack would do well enough for the journey.  When he met Hank however, he saw that Hank’s saddlebag could hold a lot more than his little pack and that it was easier to manage.  He had decided then that he would get a proper saddlebag when he had the chance, but he had forgotten all about it.  He was lucky he had made his way over to this street.  Who knew when he would have had another chance to purchase a saddlebag?

Saddlebags of all sizes and colors hung along the walls of the stall.  Traven peered over the selection and tried to decide which one he should get.  There were so many different kinds that he did not even know where to start.  He decided to concentrate on the larger ones that looked sturdy enough to last for a long time.  While he was narrowing his choice, another man came into the stall.  The old man behind the counter who had been studying Traven turned his attention to the newcomer.  The man knew exactly what he wanted and pointed it out immediately.  The stall owner pulled it off of the wall and handed it to the man to inspect.

“It looks like it’ll do.  How much is it?”

“That one is one of my best, sir.  I could not let it go for less than three gold tallies.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” the man said incredulously.  “I could buy several saddlebags of this quality for that price.  I’m not a cookle bird.  I know how much this is worth.  I’ll give you one gold tally and three silvers.”

“Are you trying to ruin me,” the stall owner hurled back.  “I might as well start giving away saddlebags for free.  I do have a family to support you know.  I can go down to two gold tallies and three silvers but no less.”  Traven figured that would be the end of it, but the buyer just started laughing.

“Oh don’t pull that on me.  Two gold tallies and a silver for it or I walk away right now.”  The stall owner looked at the man with a defiant face, but as the man set the saddlebag down with a shrug and turned to go, he changed his mind.

“All right.  You’ve twisted my arm.  Two golds and a silver it is.”  The man turned the money over to the stall owner and left with the saddlebag and a smile on his face.  Traven figured he had a reason to be smiling after the great price he had gotten, but when he saw the grin on the stall owner’s face as he watched the man leave, he decided that the man must not have gotten as good a price as he thought he had.  Traven finally decided on a saddlebag that looked about the same as the one that the other man had purchased but was pitch black.  He was glad the other man had come in before he bought anything.  Now he had an idea of how much the saddlebag was worth, and he knew what to do.  He got the grinning old man’s attention and pointed out the large, black saddlebag.  The old man handed it to him, and he began to inspect the seam and pockets like he knew what he was doing.  The saddlebag did seem durable enough.

“Not the best I’ve seen, but I think I’ll get it,” Traven bluffed.  “How much do you want?”

“Not the best you’ve seen?  You wouldn’t know good craftsmanship if it bit you on the nose.  This is one of the best ones I’ve ever made.  This one is worth over four gold tallies, but I’ll give it to you for only four.”

“I’m not a cookle bird,” Traven replied.  He was pretty sure that is what the other man had said.  He decided to start off his bargaining really low: that way he could make it look like he was giving in more than he really was.  “I’d only say it was worth one gold tally, but I’ll give you a gold and some coppers.”

“You what!” the old man spluttered with his eyes almost popping out of his head.  The man looked so upset that Traven almost wondered if he really was insulted.  “Kid, if you’ve got nothing better to do than insult an old man, you can get out of my stall.  If you really want the bag it’ll cost you three golds and a silver.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you but I can’t give you more than two golds for it.  That’s as much as I can possibly spend on a saddlebag.”

“Oh all right.  You can have it for two gold tallies if you take it and leave me alone.”  Traven dug out two of the three golds from his pouch and handed them to the old man in exchange for the saddlebag.  He swung it over his shoulder and was barely able to hold in his smile until he had turned away from the old man.  It had worked!  The man had actually given in.  He began to think of how great a bargainer he was as he left the stall, but his smile quickly vanished as he headed down the street.  He was almost sure he could hear the old man laughing behind him.  Traven just shook his head.  The old man must have been doing this for years.  Oh well.  The saddlebag looked like it would last and it was only two gold tallies anyway.

With the sun directly overhead and the grumbling in his stomach, he knew it was time to eat.  With that realization, Traven noticed what he had missed before.  There were venders selling all kinds of foods on the corners of the crisscrossing streets.  He began to head for one but stopped suddenly, distracted by a glimmer of light.  The sun directly overhead shone off of daggers and swords everywhere in the stall right next to him.  He decided he could put off eating a little longer and hurried into the stall.

There were swords and daggers lining all the walls and laid out all across the tables in the stall.  They were of every shape and size Traven had ever imagined.  There were long daggers, short daggers, and daggers with crooked blades.  They had jeweled hilts and plain hilts.  The dagger blades ranged from shining silver to black obsidian.  They were not what held his interest however.  The things that captivated him were the swords.  There were giant two-handed swords and smaller ones with curving blades.  There were fencing rapiers and broadswords.  Some of the swords’ blades were narrow and some were wide.  Several of the swords had hilts wrapped with plain bull hide but most of them had hilts of silver and gold.  Many were even encrusted with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds.  The workmanship of both the blades and the hilts appeared exceedingly fine.

“What you looking to buy boy, a dagger or a sword?”  The owner of the stall was a sturdy looking man in his middle years.  He had a thin scar on his right cheek and another scar above his left eye.  He looked to be someone that knew how to use the things that he sold.

“I was looking for a sword,” Traven replied quickly.

“In that case, I’ll try and help you find the one that’s right for you.  You’re a big, strong lad so you should be able to handle one of the larger ones easily.  Not one of the two handed I think but just a little smaller.  I always liked to have a hand free to do what needed to be done when I fought.”  The man pulled down a plain sword that Traven hadn’t noticed and handed it to him.  “Here, give this one a try.”

The sword looked like it would be heavy but surprisingly it was not.  Traven made a swipe with it into the air with ease.  He hadn’t noticed it among the other swords because of its plain, black boar hide hilt and dull color.  He remembered that appearances can be deceiving.  This sword may not have looked as fancy as many of the others but it seemed to be balanced perfectly.  He grinned as he made the blade do another half arc in front of him.

“I can see you like it.  It’s not as showy as the others, but it is one of my best.  The showy ones are for rich nobles and such, but some of my best I leave plain and unadorned.  I figure the real swordsman will look for the balance and feel of the sword, not just how good it looks on them.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes a lot of sense.  I’ll take it.”

“I thought you were a levelheaded person when I saw you.  I usually don’t sell my really good ones this cheap, but I’ll give it to you for ten gold tallies, and I’ll even throw in a sheath.”  It was then that Traven realized that all he had with him was a gold and a bunch of coppers.  He had been so caught up in the excitement of getting a sword that he had forgotten that he did not have the rest of his gold coins with him.  He could not believe how stupid he was.  He should have brought more money with him.

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t happen to have more than a single gold on me,” Traven said with downcast eyes.  “I wasn’t expecting on finding a sword to buy today and didn’t bring more money.  I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Oh don’t worry about it boy.  I can hold the sword for a day or two if you want to come back for it.  Just bring the money and the sword is yours.”

“Thank you so much.  I’ll come back for it if I have a chance to before I leave.”  The man assured him that if he came back tomorrow it would still be waiting for him.  Traven thanked him and left the stall.  He was extremely hungry by now and headed for the vendor nearest him.  The man was selling small pieces of bread stuffed with meat, vegetables, and cheese.  They looked and smelled delicious.  Traven bought one stuffed with beef and one stuffed with venison.  When he finished the last bite he decided that he better head back to the inn and find out if any of the merchants there were leaving for Calyn soon.

Traven turned to leave but stopped dead in his tracks.  He had no clue where he was and in what direction the inn lay.  He was surely and completely lost!

7

Traven looked up and down the street he was currently on.  He had no idea which way he needed to go to get back to the inn.  He didn’t even know the name of the inn.  He should have paid more attention to what he was doing.  He had been so busy staring at the sights of the city that he hadn’t taken the time to think about where he was going.  He slowly began to panic.  How was he going to get back to the inn?  All of his possessions were there.  All of his gold!  Why was he such a dreamer?  Why could he not just pay attention to what was important?

He took a deep breath and thought.  The only things he could remember were numerous small streets lined with stalls.  If only he had not set out from the inn this morning into the crowded square.  That was it! The square!  He could easily find the Grand Square of the palace.  Everyone in the city would know how to get to that.  All he had to do was ask a few directions.  His heartbeat started to slow down.

Traven looked up and down the streets and tried to decide who to ask for directions.  There were people everywhere, but he figured the vendor he had just purchased his midday meal from was as good a candidate as anyone else.  He walked back to the vender’s cart and inquired which way to go to get to the Barron Gregor’s palace.

“That’s a place that’s easy enough to find,” the vendor croaked.  “You wanna get a look at the palace do ya?  It’s nothing compared to the palace in Calyn, but it is a pretty sight.  Just follow this street down to its end and take a left.  Follow that street until it’s crossed by a bigger avenue and follow that to the main square.  The palace is on the north side, but I’m sure you’ll be able to see that when you get there.”

Traven thanked the man for the directions and headed off down the street.  He walked quickly towards the end of the street between all of the stalls.  He wanted to get back fast enough so that he could get a good look at the palace and still have plenty of time to find a merchant caravan that was heading out of Kavar soon for Calyn.  When he got to the end of the street he turned left.  He followed the street until it was crossed by the large avenue that he now remembered leaving the square on.  He turned onto it and stayed on the right side.  When he got to the large square, he followed the edge of it around toward the palace, staying on the outside of the large crowd.

He found it easier to make it around the square than he had thought it would be.  There were several spans of open space ringing the whole square.  Traven ran into a few people but not very many.  He soon found himself right below the palace steps.  The structure was magnificent.  A set of wide, bluish marble steps led to the massive, bronze front doors of the palace.  The base of the palace was blocky with the walls only being interrupted by the front doors and high, soaring windows that were covered in stained glass.  The windows depicted scenes of battle, commerce, and festivity.  The first floor was easily as tall as any two-story building that Traven had ever seen.  The second story was not as large as the first but was surrounded with a forest of marble pillars.  The third story was the same size as the second but lacked the marble pillars.  What thrust up from the center of the third floor was what really had him mesmerized.  A square tower stretched forth out of the top floor reaching another three stories into the air.  Out of the tower was yet another square tower which added ten more feet to the height of the palace.  This one was smaller, yet it soared toward the heavens.  Traven stared at the tower in awe.

He had never seen anything so majestic.  He had never even imagined that a building could be so large.  His mind had been stunted by the confines of his own small village but now it began to open up and imagine new possibilities.  If Barron Gregor had a palace such as this, what must the Royal Palace look like in Calyn!  He stood gawking at the palace until he snapped back into reality and remembered that he had to find a merchant caravan headed for Calyn.  He followed the edge of the square and made his way back to the inn.  The sign he had not been able to read the night before proclaimed the inn as The Raging Flame.  Traven quickly climbed the steps and entered the common room.

The common room looked a lot different than it had earlier.  Some of the patrons were at tables along the edges of the room talking and enjoying refreshments but most must have either been in their rooms or still out and about the city.  The center of the room was bare; all of the tables and chairs left in the room were now lined against the walls.  Bright ribbons were being hung along the walls all over the room by the serving women.  The women were giggling as they transformed the sober common room with the dazzling colors.  An overall air of excitement and joy hung in the air.  He asked one of the serving women what all the decorations were for.

“It’s for tonight sonny,” she answered with a twinkle in her eye.  “It’s the innkeeper’s wife’s birthday.  Tonight there will be music and dancing to celebrate it.  You’re lucky you chose to stay at this inn.  Now I need to help finish getting everything ready.  You might want to get some more rest before tonight.”  She giggled as she returned to hanging ribbons.  Music and dancing?  That might be fun.  Traven smiled as he looked around the room for the merchant that looked the easiest to approach.  At last he decided on an old man who reminded him of his grandfather.  The man appeared to be quite successful at his trade.  He was wearing a finely cut silk coat and had a giant ruby on his left hand.  The man he had been talking to had just left so Traven figured that now was as good a time as any and timidly approached the man.  He stood by the side of the table waiting for the man to look up from his drink, but he never did.  Traven tried to think of what he should say.

“Are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to sit down and talk with me.”  Startled, Traven plopped down immediately onto the bench across from the old man.  “Well, what do you want?  You don’t look much like a wealthy merchant or the such.  Are you a messenger for someone?  Speak up boy!”

“I um, well, ah . . . I’m on my way to Calyn to attend a merchant school, and I was wondering, I mean, I was hoping that if you plan on leaving for Calyn soon I would be able to go with, I mean accompany you.”

“Oh there’s no reason to be nervous,” the man chuckled.   “I’m just an old man used to getting his way.  You’ve mistaken who I am however.  I keep track of the merchant caravans that come into the city and leave from it.  I’m too old for a lot of traveling anymore.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be leaving the city and the surrounding countryside again.  You did, however, come to the right person.  As I said, I know when all of the merchant caravans are planning on leaving the city.  I’d be glad to let you know who to talk to in order to join up with a caravan.  How soon do you want to leave?”  The man was smiling now, and Traven breathed easier.  He was sure lucky to have found him.

“I guess it’s not so much a matter of when I want to leave but when I need to leave.  I need to leave as soon as possible so that I can be to Calyn when the school starts.”

“It’s too bad there are those pesky bandits roaming the countryside.  Usually there would be a bunch of merchants leaving every day to try to reach Calyn before the snows come.  With all the bandits however, some are content to just sit around and wait until they’re cleared up.  Others are joining together with several other merchants for protection.  There is someone who’s leaving tomorrow morning, but she’s only got about twenty guards with her.  I would suggest waiting another week and leaving with the big caravan that’s setting out for Calyn.  It’ll be safe enough to travel with that many merchant guards I should think.  Wait another week.  That’s my advice.”

“I wish I could wait a week, but I really need to get there on time.  Thanks for the advice though.  I’ll have to take the risk.  I don’t really have much of a choice.  Could you please direct me to who is in charge of the caravan that’s leaving in the morning?”

“I said I could didn’t I,” the old man chuckled.  “You’re going to have to talk to Meritza.  She’s in charge of the caravan.  She’s stubborn as can be but other than that she’s a rather pleasant person.  She’s pretty too!  You’ll see her tonight dancing around the floor.  I’ll point her out to you.  I don’t know if she’ll let you go along with her.  She’s really strict about sticking to her schedules and not traveling with others.  She won’t listen to reason and wait for the large caravan to leave.  I have an idea, though.  Do you have a sword?”

“Not right now, but I found one today that I want to get,” Traven said eagerly.

“Then listen closely.”  The old man laid out his plan as Traven grinned.  As soon as the old man had mentioned a sword he knew he’d like the plan.  The plan sounded like it would work.  It also gave Traven an excuse for buying the sword that he had found.  He thanked the old man for all of his help and even offered to buy him an extra drink.  The old man started laughing.

“I have enough money that you don’t want to waste yours on me.  It’s been nice talking with you.  I almost feel young again!”  He started laughing again and waved as Traven headed up the stairs to his room.  Now all Traven had to do was buy the sword.  He should be able to get back before the celebrating began.  He turned off the stairs and trotted down the hall to his room to retrieve his money.  Everything looked the same in his room except now there was fresh water in the basin and clean sheets on the bed.  He took the key to the wardrobe from his pocket and opened it.  He transferred ten gold tallies from the bag his grandparents had given him to the pouch on his belt.  He realized that he had taken about half of the gold already, but the sword really was important.  It would be useful.  He locked the wardrobe back up and left his room.  He couldn’t believe that he was finally going to be able to have a sword just like a hero in the stories!  He was zooming down the hall lost in his thoughts when he suddenly ran into something.

Looking around he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life!  She had fiery red hair that flared from her head half way down her back.  Her eyes were a rich chestnut and she had big, red pouty lips.  She had on a baggy coat that reached to her knees.  However, the coat didn’t hide her shapely figure that was emphasized by a tight red sash cinched around her waist.  She was staring at him with a startled look on her face and was surrounded by papers at her feet.  Traven realized he must have knocked them out of her hands.  He dropped to the ground and quickly began to gather them up.

“You don’t need to pick those up.  It was my fault.  I should pay more attention to where I’m going instead of staring at my reports.”  Traven tried to tell her that it was his fault, that he had not been paying attention, that nothing could ever be the fault of a goddess such as herself.  Instead, all that came out were a few squeaks.  “What was that?” she asked quizzically.

“Um, I be sorry, I mean, I am sorry.  It was my fault.”  Traven didn’t mind that he had just stumbled all over his words.  At least he had been able to get the words out this time.  He got back to his feet with the papers in his hand and gave them to her with another muttered sorry.  She took them and flashed a smile at him.  That was almost more than he could handle, but he stiffened his legs to keep them from shaking and put a hand on the wall to keep steady.

“Well I guess it was both of our faults,” she said with her mesmerizing voice.  “Maybe I’ll accidently bump into you again sometime.”  With that she winked at him along with another beautiful smile and disappeared into a room two doors down.  Traven could not take any more and slid down to the floor against the wall breathing hard.  Did she actually wink at me?  He thought she had but couldn’t believe it.  She had to be at least ten years older than him!  Maybe she just got a kick out of giving men heart attacks.  He got unsteadily to his feet.  Maybe she would be at the celebration tonight.  Maybe he would ask her to dance.  Maybe she would even say yes and then . . . get a hold of yourself.  He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts.  Someone as beautiful as her wouldn’t even remember that he existed.  Besides, he had things he needed to take care of.  But he was sure of one thing, he definitely wouldn’t mind bumping into her again.

Traven hurried down the stairs and across the common room.  He squeezed his way into the crowd out in the square and headed for the market place where he had been earlier.  He had paid attention on the way back and had no problem finding the street where the man had the sword and dagger stall.  He quickly made his way down the street until he found the stall and turned into it.  The stall keeper was there, and he grinned when he saw Traven come in.

“I figured you’d be back son but not so soon.  I picked out a few nice sheaths for the sword you wanted.  If you’ll hand over the money, I’ll let you have the sword and the sheath of your choice.”  It was then that Traven realized that he was unconsciously reaching out toward the sword.  He gave a start but then reached into his money pouch and retrieved the necessary gold.   The owner made the gold tallies quickly disappear and handed the sword to Traven.  He took the sword with awe.  It was actually his now.  He had paid for it, and it was his!  He took a few swipes through the air with a grin on his face.

From behind the counter, the man pulled out three sheaths and set them down.  One of them was a plain leather color with circular designs etched into the hide.  The second one was a deep blue decorated with golden stars.  Traven really liked how it looked but settled on the third one.  It was pitch black and webbed with silver.  It would match his saddlebag and his new dress clothes that he had gotten for his birthday.  He would look splendid when he rode into the merchant school all in black and silver with a matching sword hanging from his hip.  He slipped the sheath onto his belt and sheathed his sword.  It was comforting to feel the weight of it at his hip.  Everything was working out perfectly.  He would return to the inn, convince the merchant leaving in the morning to let him accompany her, and celebrate late into the night.  Things couldn’t get much better.

Traven left the man’s stall and headed back for the inn.  The sun was beginning to rest low on the western horizon and already the crowds were starting to thin.  He had no problem making his way back to the inn except for trying to figure out how to walk without getting the sword tangled in his legs.  By the time he reached the square he had figured it out pretty well and was feeling rather proud of himself.  The common room of the inn was abuzz when he walked in.  The tables along the wall were full of people eating their dinners and full of excitement.  Traven found the old man he had talked to earlier and sat down across from him.

“I see you got a sword boy.  Meritza was down here earlier but went back up to her room to get ready for the celebration I suppose.  I’ll point her out to you when she comes back down.  You might as well get something to eat and relax until then.”  Traven ordered some food and leaned back to wait for the serving woman to bring it.  Over by the fireplace on the far side of the room he saw several musicians getting ready to play.  Most of the people in the room were finishing up their meals and looked eager to celebrate.  After a couple minutes a young, pretty serving girl brought over Traven’s food and gave him a quick wink and a smile before taking off to another table.  He felt his face heating up slightly and quickly looked down at his food to keep the old man from noticing.  He enjoyed the food.  Another serving woman came and took his plate away when he was finished.

Traven stretched back with a sigh.  The food had been delicious.  The innkeeper’s booming voice suddenly rose above the buzzing in the room to announce the celebration for his wife’s birthday would begin.  The musicians excitedly burst into life.  The common room was instantly filled with a lively melody that called to those present to dance.  Traven was almost pulled onto the dance floor by the music before he realized it, but he caught himself.  He needed to wait for this Meritza so he could ensure passage with her caravan.  After he took care of that, he would be able to have some carefree fun.  He sat and listened to the music.  He hoped she came down soon so he could join in the celebration.  The old man sitting across from him was smiling and clapping in time to the music.

Out of the corner of his eye Traven saw someone emerge from the stairs and turned to see who it was.  He had hoped it would be Meritza, but he forgot all about the merchant when his eyes fell on who it was.  Traven’s mouth went dry.  It was the woman he had bumped into earlier.  She looked even more dazzling than she had before, if that was possible.  She no longer wore the baggy coat that tried to hide her figure but a pale green dress that accentuated it.  The bodice was worked with deep blue designs and slashes of white graced the skirt.  The silky skirt flowed around her, swirling as she skipped onto the dance floor with a beaming smile.  She snagged a handsome, wealthy looking merchant from the arms of a serving woman who Traven had thought earlier was beautiful.  Compared with the woman who had just stolen her dance partner, however, the serving woman now seemed plain.  She shot a quick, furious look at the beautiful woman and then quickly found another partner.  Traven really didn’t notice.  The only thing he was aware of was the fiery haired woman dancing around the room with laughter that sounded like silver chimes.

“Boy, are you okay?  You’re drooling and your mouth and eyes are open so wide I’d think you couldn’t breathe.”  Traven snapped out of it and blushed fiercely as he realized what he must have looked like.  The old man roared with laughter.  “No reason to be embarrassed boy.  You’re not the only one that got caught staring at her.”  Traven glanced around and found that the old man was not lying.  Many of the men sitting along the walls were staring at her and several men were getting yelled at by very upset wives and lady friends.  Traven took a deep breath.  It was good to know that he was not the only one who had fallen under her spell.

“Sorry about that.  It’s just I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as her.”

“Not many people have boy.  I may be old, but I’m not blind yet.  She ought not to mess with men’s minds like she does.”

“You can say that again,” Traven managed with a chuckle.  “I wish this Meritza of yours would show up soon so I can get my business taken care of and have some fun.”  The old man looked at Traven with a confused look on his face and then started laughing.

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I guess I forgot to mention it.  That woman you’ve been gaping at is the merchant Meritza.”  Traven’s jaw hit the table.  He quickly snapped his mouth shut before the old man could make another comment.  The old man just started laughing again and turned back to clapping in time with the music.

Traven couldn’t believe it.  He would be traveling all the way to Calyn with her!  He didn’t even know if he would be able to handle that.  He would be a nervous wreck the whole trip.  Then again, he didn’t know how he was going to work up the courage to even ask if he could accompany her caravan.  He had forgotten all about that little part.  He guessed he would approach it the same way he had been originally planning to.  He just hoped he would be able to get the words out when speaking to her.  He took a few breaths and started to work up the courage to approach her.  He decided that as soon as the musicians stopped to take a rest, he would approach her and try not to act like too much of a fool.  In the meantime, he sat quietly at the table and rehearsed over and over again in his mind what he was going to say.

The musicians played several more songs, and Meritza continued to twirl around the dance floor taking one victim after another.  She suddenly stopped dancing and headed for a table where two rugged, mean looking men were sitting and joined them.  They must have been some of her bodyguards by the way she talked with them.  Traven realized that the music had already stopped and it was time for him to ask.  It was now or never.  He slowly rose from the table, and the old man wished him luck.  Traven went through what he was supposed to do one more time in his head as he timidly made his way to Meritza’s table.  She had her back to him and was in deep conversation with the two guards.  They finally nodded and got up and left without a backwards glance just as he reached the table.  He took a deep breath, laid his hand on the hilt of his sword, and started.

“Excuse me Ma’m,” Traven managed.  She turned towards him with a smile.  He tried to go on but when confronted with her face all of his thoughts fled.  He struggled in his mind to find them again, but they were nowhere to be found.  “I um, um I wondering was, I mean if it would all be right I, ah.”  She was just staring at him with an amused look on her face.  Luckily all of his rehearsing came back to him in a rush and rescued him from doom.  He made a slight bow with his head and out came everything he had rehearsed.  “Hello, my name is Traven.  I will be journeying to Calyn on my way to attend the celebrated merchant school there.  I discovered that you were leaving in the morning for Calyn and was wondering if I might have the honor of accompanying your caravan.  I wouldn’t be a burden, and I can offer my sword in protection of the caravan.”  He gulped in some air as he finished and was surprised that he had actually been able to get it all out.  He had wanted to make the whole presentation grand rather than a rush of words, but at least he had gotten it all out.

“Oh, is that what this is all about,” she said with her tinkling laugh.  “I thought you were so nervous because you were going to ask me to dance.”  Traven felt his face blazing and wanted to run and hide.  “I usually don’t let people accompany my caravan, but with all of these bandits around I guess I could use another guard.”  Her face then turned very serious.  “You won’t be getting any special privileges you understand.  You will eat and sleep with the guards and share their duties.”  When Traven nodded his head quickly in agreement, her seriousness turned into a mischievous grin.  “Now for the price of your passage,” she paused and Traven braced for however much she wanted, “you’re a good looking young lad, so you have to give me a dance.”

Traven was stunned.  She wanted to dance with him?  Before he knew what he was doing he had taken off his sword so it would not get in the way and was being dragged onto the dance floor.  He immediately was lost in the dance.  He had always been somewhat clumsy, but dancing with her made his feet flow around the dance floor from step to step with ease.  His feet flowed as if they were following an ever changing mold formed by the rhythm of the music.  He felt so alive.  He completely lost track of time and the world around him.  He was barely aware of the increased warmth of the stone against his chest.  The only thing that he was really aware of was the lively music and Meritza.  All that he felt was her twirling in and out of his arms.  All that he breathed was her wild rose perfume.  All that he saw was her beautiful, joyful face framed by her fiery hair.  He flowed through the dances adjusting with her to the new music as the songs changed.  He knew nothing but the joyous pleasure and exhilaration of dancing with pure beauty.  He was lost in the magic of the melody.

Suddenly he was back in the common room of the inn.  The music had stopped and so had he and Meritza.  He tried to slow his breathing but without much success.  She led him off the floor and back to the table handing him his sword.  He took it dumbly and fastened it back on him.  He felt as though he was his old clumsy self once again.  He had no idea what to say but luckily Meritza spoke.

“I had no idea you were such a good dancer.  I had the impression earlier that you were a clumsy fellow, but apparently I was wrong.”  She paused to catch her breath all the way and continued on.  “I’m sorry that I lost track of time.  We need to get some sleep if we’re leaving at first light.  Thanks for the dance Traven.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  She reached up, pecked him on the cheek, flashed her dazzling smile, and glided across the room and up the stairs.

Traven was so dazed that he did not even care that his face was once again blazing.  He stood there alone, looking like a fool for several moments before he realized that he did need to get some sleep before the morning.  He then stumbled across the room and up the stairs as he slowly made his way towards his room.  As soon as he was inside he dropped his sword and fell onto his bed fully dressed still in a daze.  He drifted off almost immediately.  The day had been far too exciting and tiring, but my how wonderful it had been.

8

Traven woke up early the next morning before the sun had even begun to rise.  He thought about trying to get some more sleep, but he was too anxious for the day to get under way to actually be able to fall asleep again.  He felt his way over to the washstand and lit the candle that was sitting on it.  He splashed cold water from the basin onto his face and washed the sleep away from his eyes.  Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized he had forgotten to take off his clothes the night before and carefully tried to smooth out all of the wrinkles.  He then made his way to the wardrobe and retrieved his belongings.  There was a slight chill in the air, so he also donned his traveling cloak.  He laid his new saddlebag on the bed and belted his sword about his waist, slipping his hunting knife behind his belt on his right side.  He then had nothing to do but sit down and wait.  He waited for what seemed like an eternity until the sky outside slowly began to lighten.

As soon as the change in the sky outside became apparent, he leapt from his bed, threw the saddlebag over his shoulder, and headed out of his room and down the stairs.  It was early but the innkeeper was already directing sleepy eyed serving women as they cleaned up from the celebration of the previous night and put everything back in order.  Seeing the innkeeper, Traven realized with a start that he had not paid for his lodgings yet.  He approached the innkeeper and asked how much he owed.

“Nothing. Meritza paid for your lodgings with the rest of her guards.  They’re just about ready to leave.  You’d better hurry up.”  Traven thanked the innkeeper and hurried towards the stables.  Everything was going perfectly.  Adventure was not so bad after all.  He had had a great night, secured passage all the way to Calyn, and even had his room paid for.  This trip was going to be wonderful!  He was soon in the stables and realized that the innkeeper had been correct.  There were several guards already mounted and a few more finishing up readying their horses.  Traven quickly located Dapple and as fast as he could, prepared him to ride.  When he was done, he led Dapple around to the front and was appalled to find that all of the guards were gone.  He looked around the square frantically but did not see any of the guards who minutes before had been waiting.  He quickly pulled himself up onto Dapple and began to head out into the square looking up and down the street.

“Calm down boy.”  Traven whipped around to find a slightly overweight, graying man riding his horse toward him.  “I guess I’m to be your babysitter.  I’m a guard with Meritza’s caravan.  My name’s Rodham.”  He did not look to Traven like the type of a person that would be a merchant guard.  The only weapon that he wore was a long, slightly curved dagger.  His horse however was outfitted adequately.  Traven could see at least four crossbows loaded with barbed bolts hanging around the steed.  He also noticed a large bag of the barbed bolts hanging right behind the saddle.  The man had an air of confidence about him, and Traven decided he must know how to use his weapons well.  “Just follow me.  We’re going to meet up with Meritza and the caravan just outside of the city.”

Traven turned Dapple and followed Rodham as he made his way across the square.  The man was to be his babysitter was he.  Traven didn’t need a babysitter.  Meritza had said he would be treated the same as all of the other guards.  If he was to be treated as a guard, he definitely deserved the amount of respect a merchant guard was due.  He would show Rodham and the rest of them that he could hold his own.  He would show them.  Traven realized he was falling behind and hurried to catch back up.  It wouldn’t help his image if he got behind before they even started out toward Calyn.  They continued on in silence through the mostly vacant streets of the city.  They finally rounded a corner, where the western gate of the city came into view.  There were several sentries posted at the gate and more above it on the walls keeping watch on the countryside.  They paid no attention to him and Rodham as they made their way out of the city under the massive arch of the gate.  Their focus was on the small number of farmers already approaching the gate with their wares to sell in the city’s markets.

Rodham led Traven about a mile beyond the gate and up a small rise before he pulled up and turned around.  He said that he was to keep an eye on the surrounding countryside until the caravan made it out of the city and to their position.  He then turned to study the countryside.  Traven tried asking a few questions but learned that Rodham was not the talkative kind.  He decided that he might as well keep a watch out as well.  He scanned the plains that were visible in the fresh morning light.  There was nothing really to look at so he turned his gaze back to the walls of the city.  The city did not look quite as dramatic as it had the night of his arrival, but it was still a breathtaking sight in the light of a new day.  It still looked as big as it had when he first arrived.  Traven looked up and down the walls of the city but finally decided to just watch the gate as he waited for the caravan to emerge.

He didn’t have to wait very long.  Soon one large wagon emerged followed by another and another.  They kept emerging until he counted five in all.  The last one was little more than a farmer’s wagon and was empty, but the first four were quite impressive.  The wagons towered over the heads of the guards who were flanking the sides of the caravan on their steeds.  The wagons were a deep rich brown topped off by bright white canvas laid across the top to protect the wares of the wagons from the elements.  All of the wagons had a bright red slash on their left sides.  Each wagon had a team of four, large work horses pulling except for the last wagon which only had two.  Five guards rode along either side of the wagons, with five more armed with long bows perched next to the drivers of each of the five wagons.  Two guards rode behind the caravan while two more rode at the head of it with Meritza in between them.  As they got closer, Traven noticed that all of the guards, along with Meritza, had a bright red cloth the same color as the slashes of color on the wagons tied around their left biceps.  Only the guard riding on the last wagon had the cloth tied around his right arm.  Rodham had quietly made his way over next to Traven while he was studying the caravan.  It was then that Traven realized that Rodham also wore the bright red armband on his left arm and asked him about it.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about that,” Rodham replied.  He deftly pulled a bright red cloth from his pocket and handed it to Traven.  “These show that we’re part of Meritza’s elite guard.  The bright red is her chosen color which shows courage and loyalty.  You’ll tie it around your right arm like the new guard in the back.  Only those who have fought in protecting the caravan are allowed to wear the band on their left arm.  I don’t know if I agree with you wearing the armband at all, but I guess you are supposedly another guard so Meritza ordered it.”  Rodham then turned back to studying the surrounding countryside.  Traven quickly tied the cloth around his right arm with a sense of pride notwithstanding Rodham’s disapproval.  Rodham took one last look at the surrounding countryside and then headed down toward the caravan without a word.  Traven booted Dapple and immediately followed.  Rodham pulled up in front of Meritza.  She was back to wearing the same clothes he had first seen her in, but as he had noticed before, they could not hide her beauty.  Rodham promptly announced that the road ahead was clear.

“That’s good to hear.  I expected it would be clear this close to the city and this early.”  Meritza then ordered Rodham and the guard on her right to keep scouting ahead.  They quickly trotted ahead of the caravan in compliance with Meritza’s orders.  She then turned and looked at Traven with her mesmerizing eyes.  “Traven, I’m glad you were able to make it this morning without any problems.  You will be riding as my personal guard along with Drake.”  Pride and ecstasy filled Traven as he took his position on her right.  It was dampened however by the angry look that Drake shot at him behind Meritza’s back.  Traven recognized him as one of the guards whom Meritza had been talking to the night before.  Glancing back at the other guards, he wasn’t surprised to find no welcoming smiles.  He hoped they would give him a chance.  He may not really be a guard, but he was going to try his best to act like one.  The road ahead would be a lot easier if he had their friendship.  Either way, as long as he was traveling with Meritza, he could handle any amount of animosity from the others.

Meritza then turned back to Drake and began to discuss the items they might buy and sell along the road to Calyn to make the largest profit.  Traven tried listening to what they were saying but lost the meanings of the words in the melody of Meritza’s voice.  He finally quit trying to listen to what they were saying and just took joy in riding next to Meritza.  The caravan moved forward at a pace that surprised him.  He had thought that the large wagons would keep the caravan moving slowly, but the large magnificent horses pulling them had no problem in keeping up with Meritza’s steady pace.  He rode along in silence and was content watching the countryside go by.  After they had been riding for several hours, one of the flank guards began to distribute rolls and cheese among everyone.  While Traven was eating, Drake leaned close to Meritza and whispered something.  She thought about it for a moment and then turned to Traven.  He brightened up expectantly but was sorely disappointed.

“Traven, I want you to take a turn riding at the rear of the wagon.  Ride to the back and send Halbet up here.”

Traven turned dejectedly around and headed towards the back of the caravan.  He turned around once to get a glimpse at Meritza but was greeted only by her back and a mocking grin on Drake’s face.  When he informed Halbet that he was trading him places, Halbet excitedly galloped forward while the other guard cursed under his breath.  Traven soon learned why the other guard was upset.  The dust kicked up by the caravan slowly rose into the air until it reached just about face level right where the rear guards rode.  He opened his mouth to try to talk with the guard riding grim-faced next to him but only managed to catch a throat full of dust that sent him hacking.

“It’s not that bad,” the guard said.  “Just keep yourself erect in the saddle and most of the dust will never reach your face.  What’s really bad is during the middle of the summer.  There’s so much dust you have to wear a handkerchief over your mouth to keep from choking even if you aren’t in the rear.”  Traven sat up as straight as possible in his saddle and was glad to find that he could actually breath.  His clothes, however, soon had collected a large amount of dust.  He talked with the man a little and learned that his name was Chance.  The man had a story to go along with his name that left Traven blushing.  Besides learning the origin of the man’s name, he learned that the empty wagon directly in front of them was for any goods that they might find along the way that could be sold for a large profit in Calyn.  In addition to talking about the caravan, Chance had a great many stories about fighting that he readily shared with Traven, pointing out the scars to prove each was true.  Traven was not sure how much in the stories was actually truth but he found the stories entertaining.

Time flew by with the stories, and then a different guard distributed some biscuits along with the same cheese that they had eaten for breakfast.  Traven began to again recall that the food you had to eat while traveling was definitely not the best.  It was even worse when it was covered by dust from the road.  After they finished eating, Halbet rode back to them, and to Traven’s great disappointment, traded places with Chance.  Chance chuckled and grinned at Traven as he headed to the front of the caravan.  Halbet was not the talkative type, and Traven once again rode on in silence.  Time moved very slowly through the afternoon, and his backside began to get sore once again.  He remembered why traveling was not as fun as he used to imagine.  Those two nights in the inn had spoiled him and made him forget about the downs of journeying.

After many slow hours of moving along in silence, the sun finally began to sink below the horizon.  They hadn’t seen anyone on the road since they had gotten about five miles out of Kavar, but Traven noticed that as the light lessened, the guards became more alert.  They were no longer just riding nonchalantly with a caravan; they were elite guards protecting large amounts of expensive goods.  The guards kept a sharp eye in all directions looking for any sign of trouble.  He didn’t understand why they were so worried.  It seemed to him that nothing could get near them without them being able to see it long before it reached them.  However, Halbet explained there were folds in the ground that couldn’t be seen from the road that were perfect hiding spots for bandits.  Traven didn’t think that enough people could hide without being spotted to be a threat, but was reminded that one arrow could kill a man as easily as five arrows.  He decided to keep a sharp watch also.

With the setting of the sun, Meritza ordered a halt.  Rodham said that just up the road there was a slight rise next to the river that they had used before as a camping spot.  Meritza said it would do nicely, and the caravan pushed on for another couple of minutes before turning off to the left and heading up the small rise.  At the top, the drivers of the wagons set their wagons to form a semi-circle about the perimeter of the camp facing the road.  There was a sheer drop of about ten feet to the river below at their backs.  Traven had to help water the horses and then hobble them along with several of the other guards.  He was then sent to find fodder for the fire along with the guard who he had seen on the last wagon.  The guard grumbled to himself as they set about finding fodder.  Traven trudged along behind him.  He had not thought that guards had to do these kinds of things.  He had always thought their only job was to fight and protect.  Boy was he ever wrong.

When they returned back to the camp, a large pot had been pulled out of one of the wagons, and one of the drivers was beginning to make a stew.  Traven was not sure what kinds of vegetables the man was slicing into the water, but he did recognize the slab of beef that the man was about to cut up and put in.  Traven and the guard he had gone with quickly got a large fire built and going in the center of the camp.  Shortly thereafter the stew was on the fire and producing a delicious aroma.  Traven retrieved his bowl and spoon and waited impatiently for the stew to be ready.  When the driver who had cooked it announced that it was ready, Traven was one of the first to dish up behind Meritza.  He then went to a large rock that was at the very back of the camp where he had set his saddlebags.  He moved them down behind the rock and sat down on it to eat in silence.

He had thought that this trip was going to be nothing but excitement and fun.  It had started off the night before so promising, but Meritza had not even talked to him since the morning.  Most of the guards wouldn’t talk to him, and he was sore and covered with dust despite his efforts to brush all of it off.  Why did it really matter anyway?  As soon as he got to the merchant school in Calyn he would never see Meritza again.  It had been fun dancing with her the night before, but now he realized that it had been the beginning and end of their relationship.  He would just have to make the journey like any other merchant guard.  Heck, it was better than just saying he had traveled all the way from Oak Tree.  He could boast that he had been a merchant guard.  That should definitely impress his classmates when he got to school.  All the same, it was too bad that Meritza did not feel about him the way he felt about her.  All that he asked was for another smile and kiss on the cheek from her and he could die happy.  Too bad that was never going to happen.  Oh well.  All good things had to come to an end sometime.  Besides if he ever . . .

“Traven,” Meritza chimed from over by the fire.  “Don’t eat over there all alone.  Come over and sit with me and we’ll talk.”  At first Traven was not sure if he was hearing correctly but decided that he must be and rushed over to the fire to sit down beside her.  “That’s better.  What were you doing over there?”

“Uh, I was just thinking,” Traven replied.

“I like a man who thinks,” Meritza teased ruffling his hair.  Traven hoped the firelight did not show the deepening color on his face.  “What were you thinking about?”

“Not much.”  He couldn’t tell her that he had been thinking of her.  “I was just thinking that being a merchant guard wasn’t as fun as I thought it might be,” he said quickly.

“It gets better.  Don’t worry about it.  I just put you in the back today so that everything else will seem easy.  You’ll be riding up with me all day tomorrow so that we can talk.  I figured I’d tell you a little about being a merchant since you are going to a merchant school.  I usually don’t share any of my secrets with potential competitors, but I like you.”

“That would be great.  Thanks.”  Traven had heard it.  She said she liked him.  He did not care what anyone else said.  He had personally heard her say she liked him!  This trip was not going to be bad at all.

“Look at Traven fellas.  If his smile was any bigger his face might split in two.”  All of the other guards sitting around the fire began laughing, and Traven once again felt his face match the burning of the fire.  “Now he looks like a cherry.  Maybe he’s sick or something.  I hope he doesn’t explode.”  All of the guards began to laugh even harder, with many hooting and hollering.  Meritza had also joined in the laughter.  Traven wanted to go back to his rock at the back of the camp until Meritza put her arm around him comfortingly.

“Don’t take everything so seriously Traven,” she whispered into his ear.  “They’re just joking around.”  Meritza threw a jab back at the man who had been taunting Traven and there was once again a large outburst of laughing by the guards.  Then one of the guards got up and began to sing a lively tune.  To Traven’s great disappointment, Meritza took her arm from around him and began to clap and sing along with the guard.  The other guards joined in and soon everyone was singing or clapping.  Even Traven joined in, quickly forgetting about his earlier embarrassment.  Meritza was right.  He just needed to lighten up and have a good time.  After about an hour of laughing and singing around the fire, Meritza announced that she was going to get some sleep even if nobody else did.

“Don’t let them keep you up too late Traven,” Meritza said with a hint of a tinkling laugh in her voice.  “They have a tendency to stay awake talking around the fire for hours before they realize that they have to get up the next morning and travel all day.”

“Don’t listen to her Traven,” chimed in Chance.  “She just doesn’t like anyone having any fun after she heads for bed.  It’s not our fault she turns into an ugly hag without her beauty sleep.”  More roars erupted from the guards.  Traven could not believe Chance would say something like that to Meritza but then noticed that she was laughing also.  Meritza yelled something back at Chance that had everyone rolling on the ground with laughter except Chance who had a stunned look on his face.  Traven did not really understand what she had said, but it must have been really funny because half of the guards were laughing so hard that they were crying.

“Remember what I said Traven.  If you stay around this fire too late they’ll corrupt you.”  Meritza winked at Traven and gave his shoulder a squeeze as she left to go and sleep.  He could still feel the soft touch of her hand against his shoulder long after she had gone.  If he had that to look forward to every night, he didn’t even care if he had to ride in the rear all the way to Calyn.  He decided to wait around and listen to some of the guard’s stories but after the first one left his ears burning, he decided he better go to bed right away.  He stood up to leave, but Drake stopped him.

“Looks like the sissy is going to bed,” he spat.  “What’s wrong Traven?  Is our company not good enough for you?”  Traven did not know what to say, but luckily Rodham saved him.

“Leave the boy alone Drake.  Come on Traven.  You can take the first watch along with me.”  Traven followed Rodham to the wagons under Drake’s glare.  He did not understand why Drake disliked him so much.  The noise around the campfire once again resumed, but Traven couldn’t make out what was now being said.  “Don’t let Drake bother you Traven.  He’s just jealous that Meritza’s paying more attention to you than him.  He’s used to being the center of attention because of his skill with the sword.”

Rodham then explained to Traven what was expected of him while he was on watch and sent him to the second wagon on the left.  Traven climbed to the top of it and stared out at the shadowed landscape.  It was hard to see very much with the moon only being a sliver, but after keeping his eyes shut for a slow count of ten and opening them again he could make the landscape out dimly.  Rodham had told him this would let his eyes adjust quicker to the dark and he had been right.  He also told him not to look back at the fire or else his eyes would have to adjust all over again.  Traven kept a sharp look out on the countryside before him but soon began to get bored, and he let his thoughts wander.  So if Meritza really actually liked him what was he going to do about it.  Maybe he would pick her some flowers the next morning.  He strained his eyes to see if he could see the outline of any flowers but did not see anything but the grass of the plains.  Well he would just have to keep a look out for any flowers along the road tomorrow.

He was just about to slip back into his thoughts when he thought he saw something move on the horizon.  He figured his mind was just playing tricks on him but strained to see if there really was anything on the horizon.  He noticed the stone against his chest beginning to get warmer as he struggled to see what was on the horizon, but he didn’t let it bother him.  He was about to look away when he caught sight of movement once again.  Then he saw more movement and more movement from several different spots on the horizon.  It was not his mind playing tricks on him.  There were definitely things moving towards them from the horizon and not just a few.  As he watched, he noticed more and more dark blotches of movement slowly making their way towards the caravan.  His heart started to beat rapidly as he quickly jumped from the wagon he was on and ran over to Rodham.

“There are people out there, and they’re headed this way,” Traven managed to get out.  “Lots of them Rodham.  What are we going to do?  What are we going to do?”

“Calm down.  Traven calm down!  What are you talking about?  I haven’t seen anything.”  Traven quickly scampered up the wagon next to Rodham and pointed towards where the people were approaching them from.  He could now clearly see that there were definitely a lot of them.  Rodham stared where he was pointing for a few seconds and then shook his head.  “I don’t see anything.  Maybe you should go to bed.”

“I’m telling the truth Rodham, and I am not seeing things that aren’t there.  There really are people out there.  We have to do something.”

“Traven, I have a good set of eyes.  I have won many tournaments with my crossbow.  If there were thieves out there I’d be able to see them.  Now why don’t you just go and get some sleep.  I can keep a look out by myself until our watch is over.”

“Rodham I am not seeing things,” Traven practically screeched.  He could now make out that it was a very large group of men with weapons making their way towards the camp.  “Just look one more time,” he pleaded desperately.  “Please!”

“All right.  One more time, but then you have to go to bed.”  Rodham stared out into the darkness once again where Traven was pointing.  “I still don’t see anything.  I’m sorry but I think that you . . . Wait.  There is something moving out there.”  He turned and looked strangely at Traven and then glanced back out.  “It’s still too far away for me to tell what it is, but I’ll take your word for it.  Run and tell Drake what’s happening.  I’m going to stay here and watch for another minute.  It looks like we’re going to find out just how good of guards we really are.  Now hurry Traven!  We don’t have much time.”  Traven leapt from the wagon and ran as fast as he could towards the blinding light of the fire.  This did not feel like the kind of adventure he had hoped for, not at all.

9

Traven burst into the ring of guards sitting around the fire and turned to Drake.  He tried to tell him what was going on but nothing came out.  He tried again but only managed to get out a squeak as he wildly pointed in the direction that the men were coming from.

“What’s your problem now sissy,” taunted Drake.  “Did you see a ghost or something?”  Traven finally was able to get out that there were a bunch of men heading for the camp, and Drake immediately grew serious.  “How many?  How far are they?”

“We don’t know yet,” Traven managed.  He should have paid more attention and counted them when he saw them.  It had looked like there were more than fifty though.  “Rodham’s still trying to get a good look at them.”  Drake shouted a few orders to the other guards as he jumped up and ran for where Rodham was.  Several of the guards began to extinguish the fire while the others went to retrieve weapons and wake Meritza.  Traven had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, so he headed back towards where Rodham and now Drake were.  They were both staring off into the darkness when he arrived.

“They’re definitely going to attack us, but they’re moving in really slowly,” Drake stated as he stared off into the darkness.

“I don’t think they know they’ve been spotted.  I don’t know if I would have even noticed if Traven hadn’t pointed them out to me.”  Drake turned and gave Traven a strange look and then turned back to the countryside.  Traven climbed up on the wagon with the other two men.  He could now see that there were far over fifty men.  They had spread out to come at the camp from every direction but the river and were creeping along the ground cautiously as they got closer and closer.  Traven could now see the almost nonexistent moonlight glinting off the already drawn weapons of their attackers.  He had at first thought that the odds would be about two to one, but now he realized with despair it would be more like four to one.  He was pretty sure that all together there were around a hundred men and told Drake and Rodham.

“I don’t think there are that many out there,” Rodham said still straining to see what he could.  “There are more than us definitely, but we have the element of surprise.  It won’t be an easy battle by any means, but we can scare them away easy enough.”  Soon everyone in the camp had gathered behind the wagon and were looking up expectantly at Drake waiting for orders.  Traven had expected Meritza to be giving the orders but now realized exactly how it all worked.  Drake was the head guard and deferred to Meritza in what she wanted, but when it came to fighting, he had control of the caravan and everyone obeyed him, even Meritza.

When everyone had gathered, Drake turned around to give orders.  Traven watched with awe as Drake quickly told everyone of the situation and laid out his plan.  If it worked how Drake said it would, many of the thieves would not even reach the camp.  Hopefully this would deter the rest.  If it didn’t, the guards would be ready for the rest of the thieves.  In the camp, there were twenty-seven people including Traven, and everyone was assigned to do something.  Two of the wagon drivers were women and they were assigned to keep the horses under control in the center of the camp.  The other three drivers were outfitted with bows along with five of the guards.  They, along with Rodham, would make up the initial attack.  When the thieves were close enough, all nine of them would begin to pick off the thieves.  Rodham was positioned on the front wagon with two other bowmen.  The wagons to either side were also topped by three bowmen.

Drake hoped that if the bowmen were able to kill enough of the thieves, the rest would scatter and run when his second wave of attack started.  Two groups of four mounted guards would sweep out of the camp from either side of the lead wagon to fight from their steeds.  Drake himself would lead the right group.  The guards on their horses should be able to easily cut down the thieves on foot.  Four of the other guards would stay at camp to plug up the four holes in between the five wagons and protect the camp.  Meritza and another guard would guard the wagon that met the river on the left of the camp.  Traven and another guard would protect the last wagon on the right side of the camp.  They would protect the camp from being attacked from the flank if any of the thieves managed to make their way to the sides of the camp.

“Does everyone understand how this is going to work?”  Drake asked looking everyone over with an obvious pause on Traven.  Traven along with everyone else nodded their heads in acknowledgment.  “Make sure you all fulfill your assignments, and we should be able to not only repel the attack but help clean up these vermin. No one try and be a hero.  I want as little injuries as possible.  Now get to your places.  Good luck.  Fight with courage, die with honor!”  Everyone saluted by placing their right fists over their hearts.  Traven quickly copied the salute and then hurried to the back of the camp with Meritza and the two other guards.

“Sorry you have to be a part of this Traven.  This isn’t going to be pretty,” Meritza said as they reached the back of the camp.  She was fully dressed and alert despite just having woken up.  She had a long bladed knife in each of her hands and another stuck behind her sash.  “Be careful Traven.  This isn’t a game.  Thieves don’t care who they kill.  Don’t take any foolish chances.”  Traven was startled as she reached up and he felt her lips brush against his cheek.  She gave him another smile and headed off quickly for her post with one of the guards.  Traven watched her graceful departure before turning.

“You are one lucky guy Traven,” the guard remaining with him said as they headed to their post at the far right of the camp.  “I’ve never seen her show more concern for anyone but Drake.”  Traven’s blush was lost in the excitement that he felt at the whole situation.  When they reached the small wagon at the far right of camp, he could already see a guard positioned off to their left between the wagons.  He glanced across the camp to where Meritza was.  He would do as Drake asked and hold his position, but if Meritza was endangered, he would drop everything to save her.  Meritza must be kept safe at all costs, even if it meant giving his life.  He did not know if he could bear her loss.  With that last thought on his mind, he turned and stared off into the night.  If anyone tried to flank the camp, he would see them.

* * * * *

Rodham crouched on the top of the lead wagon flanked by the other two best archers in the caravan.  In the dark of the night there was no sound at all.  Soon the silence would be broken with screams of death.  Silence or turmoil meant nothing to him.  In each hand he held a crossbow.  They were extensions of himself.  Ready for the onslaught, Rodham kept a watch on the approaching thieves.  They were already beginning to climb the rise.  He realized now that Traven had not been exaggerating.  There had to be a hundred men closing in on the camp.  He had never seen such a large group of thieves in all of his days as a caravan guard.  He would not have his life ended by a bunch of scoundrels.  They would feel the bite of his barbed bolts.  They would feel the fury of the elite guards of Meritza’s caravan.  The thieves would learn their mistake soon enough.  For many, it would be the last mistake they ever made.  The bandits had now reached the top of the rise.  It was time to give the signal.

The tranquil silence of the night was suddenly pierced by Rodham’s high, shrill whistle.  Immediately he fired his bolts along with eight other arrows.  Ten thieves suddenly dropped to the ground never to rise again.  Rodham immediately loaded two more bolts and let them fly.  Blood curdling screams filled the night air as ten more thieves soon joined their dead comrades.  Another ten dropped as the rest of the confused thieves finally realized what was happening.  With the realization, the thieves suddenly surged forward with furious shouts in a mad rush for the caravan.  The bowmen continued to rain death upon the approaching horde and another twenty had been silenced forever by the time the thieves crushed into the caravan.  Rodham grinned as mounted guards dove into the fight from either side of him.  The thieves however did not retreat.  Their startled faces contorted with rage.  To Rodham’s great amazement, many turned on the horsemen with uncontrollable rage.  He began to pick the crazed thieves off just as the wagon next to him suddenly burst into flame.  The night was immediately bathed in orange light that showed the carnage taking place all around the camp.  These were definitely not normal bandits.

* * * * *

The stillness of the night was suddenly pierced by a high, shrill whistle.  Immediately Traven began to hear death screams from in front of the camp.  The screams were followed by more screams until they were drowned out by shouts of rage and battle cries.  He wished he knew what was happening at the front of the camp.  Suddenly five shapes emerged from the darkness in front of him running at full speed parallel to the river.  Traven’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly pointed them out to the other guard.

“They must have been crawling along the bank of the river!  Maybe you’re not as lucky as I thought,” the guard said as he and Traven jumped down in front of the wagon drawing their swords.  They were immediately joined by another guard who had been guarding the hole in the wagons to their left.

“It looks like you fellas could use some help,” he said with a grin.  The guards to either side of Traven crouched, bracing to meet their attackers.  Traven was suddenly paralyzed with fear as he realized for the first time that night that he had no idea what to do in a sword fight.  It was too late now.  He gripped the hilt of his sword as hard as he could as the five attackers swiftly approached the three of them.  A wagon at the front of the camp suddenly burst into flames as the guard on his left jumped forward to meet the lead attacker.  Their swords crashed in a burst of sparks as the rest of the attackers caught up.  Traven took a step back and tumbled backwards over a rock just as a sword swiped through where his body would have been.  His would be murderer cursed and raised his sword a second time to kill Traven but instead screamed as a sword suddenly burst from his chest in a spray of blood.

Traven scrambled to his feet as the man crumpled to the ground.  The guard who had saved his life was already battling another attacker.  The other guard was fighting two men at the same time with the body of the lead attacker already at his feet.  The guard’s sword hacked into one of the attackers while the other attacker’s mace came crushing down on his head splitting it.  The guard crumpled to the ground along with the two men he had killed, and the man with the mace turned his cruel gaze on Traven.  The other guard finished off his attacker and hurried to Traven’s side.  The lone attacker left did not appear worried to face two people at once and dropped his mace as he unsheathed his sword.  He feined an attack at the guard and then swiped at Traven.  Traven threw his sword up in front of him in terror, and the attacker’s sword glanced off of it and took a chunk from Traven’s thigh.  He fell to the ground with a yelp as the attacker immediately blocked the guard’s sword that flew at his head and gutted him with a long dagger that had suddenly appeared in his hand.  The amazed guard stumbled back with the dagger’s hilt protruding from his belly as the attacker finished him off with a quick swipe of his sword.

Traven was back on his feet as the attacker turned to him laughing.  “It’s almost too easy,” he spat as he slowly approached Traven with murder glowing in his eyes.  Traven took a step back and almost fainted as the wound on his leg sent a flood of pain through his body.  The attacker’s sword suddenly flashed and its tip opened a gash on Traven’s left arm as he jumped back.  He knew his time to die had come.  His attacker lunged at him.  Traven threw up his sword in self-defense and screamed as he fell backwards over a dead body.  The attacker’s body came crashing down on top of him driving him into the ground.  The man’s eyes bulged inches away from Traven’s face.  The man’s body convulsed and blood trickled from his gaping mouth as his head crashed down lifelessly into Traven’s.

* * * * *

Meritza cringed as she heard the screams of death coming from the front of the camp.  She hoped that she did not lose any of her guards in the attack.  Hopefully the thieves would make a run for it when they realized that this was not going to be an easy caravan to take.  Why was Drake so headstrong?  Why must he always lead the attack into the oncoming enemy?  She knew he would have no trouble beating anyone he faced, but she still wished he would be more careful.  At least Traven would be safe guarding the flank.  She did not know if she would be able to bear having the sweet, young man’s death on her conscience.  She shouldn’t have let him come along, but she had never thought that this many thieves would attack them at once.  It was obvious he had not worn a sword for long by the way he walked with it.  Oh well, she thought, if everything works out, he won’t have to use his sword.  Meritza quit thinking about the boy and turned her attention back to the dark countryside.  One of her wagons suddenly burst into flame illuminating the night.

She gasped as five men suddenly emerged from the bank of the river not far off and headed towards her at a run.  Slade saw the men also, and they jumped down to face them.  Jared should have joined them, but he was not at his post between the wagons.  Slade rushed forward to meet the men.  Meritza yelled for him to come back, but he did not stop.  In his eagerness to protect her, he died after only taking down two attackers with him.  She quickly let her two knives fly into the remaining attackers as they approached her.  Blood suddenly bloomed from a chest as her knife slammed into the leading attacker.  Her other knife missed its mark and lodged into the arm of another attacker who howled in pain.  Meritza quickly pulled her last knife from her sash and scrambled up the wagon behind her.  Where was Jared?  She braced herself to fight to the death as the remaining two attackers reached the base of the wagon.

* * * * *

Traven pushed the smelly corpse off of him and wiped the blood from his eyes as he got unsteadily to his feet.  He looked down at the dead attacker in amazement as he rubbed his head.  He had somehow gotten his sword up in time, and in his rush to kill Traven the thief had been skewered by it.  The whole length of the sword’s blade protruded from the back of the man.  Traven looked numbly at the carnage around him and labored for breath.  The pain coming from his arm and thigh threatened to bring him back to his knees.  Staring down, he watched in shock as his blood ran to the ground mingling with that of the dead.  Traven shook with sobs as he realized how close he had been to dying.  Screams continued to come from the front of camp and steel rang on steel.  He thought about trying to retrieve his sword, but he did not have enough strength.  As he slowly made his way into the camp between the two wagons he heard a woman’s scream.  The camp was in turmoil with horses running everywhere with fright.  He tried to focus amidst the mayhem. The women who were supposed to be keeping the horses under control were nowhere to be seen.

The woman screamed again, and Traven froze as he realized who the scream had come from.  Atop the wagon on the far side of camp Meritza fought desperately to fend off two attackers, her hair blazing to match the fiery inferno of the wagon at the front of camp.  He had to do something.  Tears welled up in his eyes as he stumbled towards her.  He had not even taken two steps when a horse crashed into his right side throwing him to the ground.  He tried to get up but did not have the strength.  He began to crawl towards Meritza with his hand stretched towards her.  He had to do something.  He had to do something.  He had to. He had to!

All of the turmoil around him slowly faded away to nothing as he focused on Meritza’s attackers.  Time slowed and faded away.  The air around the motionless attackers seemed to shimmer in Traven’s eyes and grow thicker.  Wisps of the very fabric of life began to form into jagged lines from the sky towards the two attackers.  All was still but the jagged lines slowly emerging through the air.  Traven was suddenly snapped from his calm as he smashed into a solid wall of nothingness.  The world rushed back.  He grabbed at his burning chest and screamed in pain as his shirt burst into flames. He shot to his feet filling the cool night air with a blood curdling scream as his flesh burned.  He was suddenly thrown into the air as another horse smashed into him.  He flew through the dark in agonizing pain for a harrowing moment before he crashed into freezing water and the world disappeared in blackness.

* * * * *

Wraith spun around looking in every direction.  He had just been about to kill another unsuspecting guard when the black stone in his pocket had leaped into life.  The stone had suddenly grown warm, but instead of turning solid red as he had been told it would, it stayed black with veins of red lancing across it.  He had then heard an agonizing scream from the back of the camp, and the stone returned immediately to normal.  It had all happened so fast that he almost didn’t believe that the stone had changed, but he knew what he had seen.  Wraith did not believe in coincidences.  The rock had returned to normal right after the scream.  The scream had been that of a tall, young man.  Where that young man was now, he didn’t know.  He didn’t see anyone who fit the description, but he had heard enough screams in his career.  He would be on the lookout for someone that roughly fit that description.

Wraith turned back to the job at hand.  He slowly crept up behind the foolish guard who was completely focused on keeping anyone from breaking between the wagons and into the camp.  Wraith silently pulled his metal wire taut between his fists as he stepped up behind the guard.  In one quick and practiced motion Wraith took care of him.  The guard crumpled to the ground silently.  Now for the archers, thought Wraith as he hurriedly moved in silence to another wagon and more victims.

* * * * *

Rodham loosed another bolt into the mass, dropping another of the thieves.  He had heard an anguished scream earlier from within the camp, but when he had looked back, all that he saw were the horses running wild.  Only four of the guards were still on horses.  The other four had lasted for quite a while before falling prey to the crowd.  As Rodham looked on, another guard was dragged from his horse.  The bowmen on the wagon to his right had quit shooting for some reason.  The guards who had been with him had gone to check on the situation moments before, but they never returned.  Rodham didn’t know what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good.  He carefully aimed his crossbow and took out another thief.  He wasn’t sure how long the horsemen would last.  There were only seven thieves left, but they were being very careful to avoid the slashing swords of the guards.  He loaded another bolt onto his crossbow and carefully aimed for another of the bandits.  He suddenly felt a presence behind him, and then he felt no more.

* * * * *

Wraith threw down the crossbow as the last of the horsemen fell to the ground.  That one had killed two more of his thieves before he could put a bolt in him.  He was extremely upset.  The ground surrounding the camp was heaped with the bodies of his men.  He had lost over a hundred thieves fighting a mere twenty guards.  These thieves who claimed to be able to fight were pitiful excuses for men.  Only two were left standing among the carnage.  He leaped from the wagon and joined the two of them.  He instructed them to round up as many of the horses as they could and load them up with the most valuable things from the wagons.  Wraith busied himself with looking for the body of the young man, but none of the men from the camp were young enough.  His search yielded nothing except for a plain sword that was extremely well made.  He slipped it behind his sash after pulling it out from one of his best men.  He knew that he was not mistaken about the scream but had no idea how the young man had escaped.  He would wait around for a day or two and see if the young man returned.  With that he decided that he had worked with the others long enough.  He lit the rest of the wagons on fire and then finished up what the merchant guards had begun.  A few seconds later Wraith led the laden horses away from the decimated camp in the company of no one but himself.

10

The man watched as flames blazed into the night sky from the top of the hill up the river.  It looked as though the thieves had struck again.  He wished he could do something about the rotten vermin that hid during the day and struck as cowards during the night.  There were too many of them for him to do anything however.  When he had chanced upon them he had counted over a hundred.  He turned from watching the blaze and walked down to the river to get a drink before he settled back down for the rest of the night.  As he bent down and cupped his hands he was startled to see a body being pulled down the river towards him.  Darn thieves littering the water with their victims.  He waded into the river and grabbed hold of the body as it came by.  He dragged the body out of the river and stopped in surprise.  The young man was still alive!  He quickly moved the body up the embankment to his camp.  What had the thieves done to him!  His arm and leg were gashed and his shirt had been burned through to the skin.  He was also beginning to show bruises all over his body including a lump on his head.  The poor kid would be in a lot of pain when he woke up, if he woke up.  The cold water had luckily stopped the bleeding.  The man quickly stripped off the remains of the clothes, dried him, and dressed the wounds of the young man and covered him in warm blankets.  He did not want to risk a fire with the thieves so close.  He just hoped the boy could hold on until the sun came up in the morning.

* * * * *

Awareness slowly began to creep back into Traven’s battered body.  At first all that he was aware of was a biting pain that seemed to emanate from every inch of his body.  Slowly the pain faded away and was replaced by extreme soreness covering most of his body with spots of pain on his upper left arm and right thigh.  He opened his eyes and blinked in the brightness of dawn.  He squinted against the light and tried to clear his head.  What was going on?  Suddenly Traven remembered the attack and Meritza.  He tried to sit up but fell back down with a groan after only moving up a couple of inches.  Next to where he lay, a small fire crackled and the aroma of fish cooking filled the air.  He was coverd with a pile of furs and blankets.  He felt for his stone and was relieved to find it still around his neck.  His chest, left arm, and right thigh were bandaged.  How had he ended up here?  He looked around slowly, fighting against the pain in his head, to see whose camp this was.  Maybe the caravan had finally driven the thieves back.

Traven didn’t see anyone at first but finally saw that someone was down at the edge of the river not far off.  He propped himself up with his good arm to see who it was.  As soon as he could fully focus on the man he was filled with disappointment.  The man was definitely not a guard from the caravan.  As the man made his way back to the fire, Traven stared in amazement.  The man was huge!  Most of the people he had met were shorter than himself, and he had only met a few that were taller than him.  However, this man looked as though he was much taller than him.  The man’s height was not the only thing that stunned Traven.  He was broad at the shoulders and extremely well-muscled.  He looked as strong as several men put together and walked up from the river with fluid grace.  Above his mighty shoulders rose the hilts of two swords that crossed one another on his back.  He had shoulder length dark, black hair pulled back in a tail by a leather cord.  He had a thin goatee framing his mouth and chin and golden hoop earrings.  From his face shown piercing green eyes that seemed to be taking in all of his surroundings at once.  He had immediately realized that Traven was watching him, and he wore a small smile as he sat down on the other side of the fire.

“So you finally decided to wake up,” the man said in a deep, bass voice.  “I rinsed the blood off of your clothes, but I couldn’t really do anything about your shirt.  There was only half a shirt left anyway when I pulled you out of the river.”  The man chuckled to himself.  “I bet you’re feeling great.”  Who was this man?  The man reached behind him and pulled out Traven’s clothes, minus his shirt.  “When you’re ready, here are your clothes.”

“Thanks.  Did you patch up my wounds?”  The man nodded his head.  “Thanks for everything.  I guess I probably owe my life to you.”

“No probably about it boy.  You were barely breathing when I found you.  You’re lucky to be alive.”  The man then tossed down Traven’s sheath.  “I’m not sure what happened to your sword, sorry.”  Traven remembered what had happened to his sword, but the thought of it made him sick.  He reached for his clothes and groaned with the effort.  “Here,” the man said handing Traven some of the fish.  “You need to eat so your body has enough fuel to repair itself.  The gashes on your arm and thigh really weren’t that deep.  They should heal without any problems given a little time.  However, even though the gashes weren’t too deep, you still lost a lot of blood.  A few of your ribs might be cracked too, but I don’t think they are.  You’d be having a harder time breathing if they were.  I put some salve on the burns on your chest.  The salve will keep the pain down and allow them to heal quickly.  All you need is a little rest and some time for the wounds to heal.”  Traven quickly gobbled up the fish offered to him and then sank back down.  He closed his eyes for just a second.  He just needed a little rest and he’d be able to get up.  He would go back to the caravan when he got up and . . .

Traven opened his eyes and was shocked to see the sun on the other side of the sky.  He bolted up into a sitting position but almost fell right back down as pain rippled through his body.  He noticed that the fire had burned out already and looked around for the man who had saved his life.  He was amazed by what he saw when he finally located the man in the moist dirt next to the river.  The man had a sword in either hand and was poised on the balls of his feet.  He suddenly sprang into action, the swords becoming only a blur as they swept around the man’s body.  He spun and leaped, a mass of metal death spinning around him.  He changed positions and motions fluidly as the swords never slowed.  Traven watched mesmerized as the man continued practicing.  He flowed through the different forms so smoothly that it reminded Traven of a dance.  Traven lost track of time as he hypnotically watched the man endlessly slice through the still air.  The man finally slowed and then stopped.  In a practiced, quick motion the blades were suddenly sheathed once again on his back.  He trotted over to Traven.

“How are you feeling?”  Traven tried to answer but began coughing causing waves of pain through his body.  His throat was parched dry.  “You should have had some water before deciding to sleep away the day,” the man said as he tossed Traven a full waterskin.  Traven took it and drank the cool water from it immediately.  He didn’t know if water had ever tasted so wonderful and sweet.  After he had drained a large portion of the skin, he set it down and once again tried to talk.

“You are amazing.” he blurted out.  “How did you learn how to do all of that?  I bet you could face a hundred guys without any problem!”

“Calm down there boy.  I could definitely face a hundred guys, but I’m sure it would be a big problem.  I guess you must not be all better yet.”  Traven cringed at his foolishness.  “Don’t worry about it.  I at one time thought I was invincible too.”  The man’s eyes took on a sad cast as he quietly stared off at nothing.  After a few seconds he shook his head and turned back to Traven.  “Oh well.  We can’t do anything about our mistakes but learn from them.  You do look a lot better than you did earlier.  I’ll make some stew and then you can get some more rest.  Hopefully by the morning you’ll be well enough to travel.”

As the man started the fire back up, Traven dragged himself out from under the blankets and pulled on his clothes slowly and carefully.  When he had finally gotten dressed, he just sat and watched the man as he made the stew.  Traven’s stomach growled as the aroma of the stew began to permeate the air.  He was starving.  The man had known what he was talking about when he said that Traven’s body needed food for it to repair itself.  He then realized that he still didn’t know the man’s name, and he hadn’t told the man his name either.

“My name’s Traven.”  The man looked up from the stew confused and then started laughing.

“Sorry about that.  My name’s Blaize.  I usually introduce myself when I meet someone, but you weren’t in the mood for talking when I found you.”  Traven smiled as Blaize went back to stirring the stew.  “So Traven, how did you happen to end up floating down the river half dead?”

Traven related how he had joined with the caravan and everything had been fine until night fell.  He then explained that over a hundred thieves had attacked them in the night, but they had been ready for them.  Five men had come against him and the other two guarding the right flank, and he had gotten the gashes on his thigh and arm but was the only one of the three to survive.  He had then been heading across the camp to help the leader of the caravan but had been struck by a horse and fell into the river.  When Traven had finished his story, Blaize gave him a thoughtful look and then spooned him some stew which he gratefully ate.

“I can believe your story except for one thing.  How did your shirt happen to catch on fire?  Your chest has some pretty nasty burns on it.  Do you care to explain that?”

Traven paused in eating the stew.  That was something he had not even wanted to think about himself.  He had no idea what had happened.  He seemed to foggily remember everything slowing down and him becoming extremely calm until the world suddenly burst into fiery pain.  Other than that, he had no idea as to what had happened.  His shirt could not have just burst into flames.  Something had to have caused it but what he did not know.  Traven shook his head and tried to clear the incident from his memory.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, fine.  I don’t really care.  I was just curious,” Blaize said in between mouthfuls of the stew.  “There’s something else I’ve been wondering about though.  What significance does that stone around your neck have?  I’ve never seen another one like it.  It almost seems to glow in the dark.”  A nightmare from what seemed like years ago crashed into Traven’s memory as he glanced down and realized he was clenching the stone in his hand.  He could feel the warmth of the stone, but what had happened in his dream was impossible!  There was no way that a stone could spontaneously burst forth with heat.  Yet he forced himself to remember that the stone had spontaneously changed from blue to amber.  He knew that he hadn’t imagined that.  He began to tremble with the thought that maybe what had happened in his dream could be true.  “Sorry if the stone is a touchy subject with you.  I was just . . .”

“Oh it’s nothing like that,” Traven said quickly trying to get himself under control.  He didn’t want to upset the man who had saved his life.  “It belonged to my father.  It’s all I really have left of him.  I don’t know what kind of stone it is or where my father got it.”  Traven was glad that his voice seemed steady enough.  Blaize dished him up another bowl of the stew, and he finished it off as quickly as he had the first.  When he asked if he could have a third helping, Blaize just chuckled and scraped out the rest of the stew for Traven.  When he finished, he was feeling a lot better but was extremely tired.  He had been sleeping all day and didn’t know how he could be tired, but he took Blaize’s advice and went back to sleep.

When he woke up early the next morning, Blaize was already breaking the camp.  Traven tried to stand and was pleasantly surprised to find that he actually could.  He was still sore all over but felt a lot stronger than he had the day before.  Blaize tossed him a stale biscuit to eat for breakfast and asked him if he thought that he would be able to ride some today.

“I feel a lot better.  I think I can ride without any problems,” Traven answered back with a smile.

“If you say so Traven.”  Blaize threw his saddle onto his large horse.  Traven was surprised that he had not noticed the animal earlier.  It was a beautiful dark, reddish brown.  It had a deep chest and a well-muscled rump.  It definitely looked fast and robust.  When he had loaded his belongings into the saddlebags, Blaize turned back to Traven.  “You can ride Flame, and I’ll walk.  Your camp isn’t that far off.  We’ll go and see what’s left.  I don’t want you to get any hopes up though.  From what I saw, I think all of the wagons were set on fire.”

Traven grunted as he weakly pulled himself up onto Blaize’s horse.  Maybe he was not as strong as he had thought.  Blaize led the way holding onto Flame’s reins so that Traven did not have to do anything but sit.  After a while, they came in sight of the rise.  It looked like the whole top of the hill had been scorched by fire, but as they came closer he realized that the top of the hill was black because it was covered with ravens and vultures.  A slight breeze blew past him from the direction of the hill, and he almost gagged.  He had never encountered such a sickening stench.  Blaize stopped walking and turned back to him.

“Maybe you should stay down here while I go up and take a look around.”  Traven thought about accepting the offer after what he had smelt but decided against it.

“Thanks but I need to see for myself what happened.  Let’s hurry and get this over with.”

“If you say so.”  Blaize continued his measured pace up the rise.  The birds scattered at the presence of Blaize and Traven revealing a scene of carnage that even the smell had not prepared Traven for.  Stinking, mutilated bodies covered almost the entire hill.  Traven bent over the side of the saddle and emptied his stomach of everything that he had ever eaten.  Another glance at the scene before him caused him to heave everything that he had not eaten.  When there was nothing left in his stomach, Traven wiped his mouth and slipped down from Flame on the opposite side.  He walked up and stood next to Blaize feeling embarrassed that he had not taken his advice.  Blaize was staring out over the whole hillside taking everything in.  Traven on the other hand tried to keep his eyes above the ground, holding his breath as much as possible.

“You know what Traven,” Blaize finally said.  “No matter how many times you’ve seen death, you never get used to it.  You learn how to not be affected by it as much, but you never get used to it.”  Blaize shook his head and closed his eyes before continuing on.  “Let’s see what’s left of the caravan.”

Traven followed in silence as Blaize began to pick his way through the carnage.  The only sounds as they made their way towards the camp were the buzzing of flies and the squawking of birds.  All five of the wagons were now no more than piles of scorched wood and ashes.  Traven stopped just inside the ring of rubble and skimmed the inside of the camp.  His eyes froze when they got to the left side of the camp.  There near the blackened ashes of the far wagon a fan of red hair caught his eye.  He ripped his gaze away and turned as sobs began to rack through his sore body.  He dropped to his knees, unable to remain standing.  He hadn’t really thought Meritza would have survived, but actually seeing her lifeless body on top of the deaths of all the others was more than he could handle.  He sat and sobbed until he was out of tears.  Traven gave a start when Blaize finally came over and laid a calloused hand on his shoulder.

“I’m really sorry Traven but nobody walked away from this battle except for one person, and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t anyone from the caravan.  By the look of things, I think you guys would have actually beaten the rotten scum if not for that one man.  He must be a trained assassin or something.  It looks like he must have snuck into the camp and worked from the inside out.  He did a pretty thorough job.”  Blaize paused for a few seconds.  Traven had no idea how Blaize had figured out what had happened so fast.  “I did find something that was missed behind that rock over there.”  As Traven looked up he saw his bulging saddlebag over Blaize’s shoulder.

“My saddlebag!  I can’t believe it’s untouched.”  Traven stood and took the saddlebag from Blaize.  He opened it up, pulled out a clean shirt, and put it on.

“Now all you need is a horse.”  Traven realized how ironic it was to be excited about a saddlebag when he did not even have a horse.  He hoped Dapple had managed to get away, the poor thing.  “Luckily there’s a horse down by the river right now.”  Traven looked upstream and sure enough there was a horse.  It looked pretty fierce, but it was saddled.  It must have belonged to one of the guards who had ridden out among the thieves.  “Traven there’s not much we can do for your friends, but if you want, we can bury them.”

“I would really like to do that for them,” Traven managed.  “I’ll start digging right away.”  Blaize found an axe among the dead thieves and handed it to Traven to dig with while he jumped on Flame and went down the hill to catch the nearby horse.  Traven started digging at the top of the hill with the idea of digging a separate grave for each of the guards but changed his mind when he realized how long it would take to dig that many graves without a shovel and in his weakened condition.  By the time Blaize returned with the magnificent, pitch black stallion, Traven was already too tired and sore to dig anymore.  Blaize tied up the horses to a wheel of one of the wagons that was partially intact and took the axe from Traven.  Traven sat down and watched as Blaize quickly began to deepen and widen the hole that he had started.  After a while Traven felt a little better and took over digging while Blaize went to gather up the bodies of the dead guards.

Traven slowly raised the axe and slammed it into the bottom of the hole to deepen it, but instead of cutting through the soft ground the axe shuddered as it hit something hard.  He figured it was probably a rock and bent down to remove it.  He began to scrape the dirt off of it, but to his surprise it was not a rock at all.  It was something made of metal.  Traven grabbed a hold of the corner of it and heaved.  Whatever it was, it did not come loose.  He began to clear away the rest of the dirt and found that it was a lot bigger than he had first thought.  As he cleared more and more dirt away, he found that it was a long, rusted metal box.  It was about six feet long and three feet wide.  He tried to tug it out, but he still was not strong enough to lift very much weight.

“Blaize!  Hurry up and get over here,” Traven shouted.  Blaize finished dragging the body of a guard next to the others that he had already dragged out from among the thieves.

“Traven, please.  I want to get done with this business as fast as I can.  If you can’t dig anymore just take a break for a while.”

“No it’s not that.  I’ve found something!”  Blaize walked over slowly to the hole to see what was so important, but when he saw what Traven had uncovered he quickly jumped down into the hole.  Blaize took the side opposite of Traven, and they pulled the long metal box from the ground.  Traven used the last of his strength to help Blaize set it on the outside of the hole.  With the removal of the box, the hole was just about big enough to fit all of the bodies.  “What do you think is in it Blaize?” Traven asked excitedly.

“It looks like a type of coffin or something, but there’s only one way to find out.”  Without waiting any longer, Blaize tried to pull off the lid but could not.  After a few swings of the axe however, Blaize was able to slip it off, and they both crowded around anxiously to see what the box held.  Blaize had been right in his guess.  A skeleton occupied the interior, but that was not what had Traven fascinated.  The skeleton must have been that of a long dead warrior.  Its head was covered by a rusted helmet and its chest was covered by a rust pocketed breastplate.  The thing that held Traven’s gaze, however, was the sword that lay beside the body.  It was not rusted like the rest of the metal and had a dark blue stone in its hilt that was almost black.  The stone seemed to be pulling in the light immediately around it and almost seemed to be glowing.  How could the blade and hilt still be polished and looking brand new when everything else was rusted?  Traven watched as Blaize reached in and pulled out the sword with a look of respect on his face.

“I guess you’ve got a sword now Traven,” he said handing it to Traven after inspecting it.  Traven grabbed it by the hilt in amazement.  The hilt seemed to mold to fit his hand, and Traven realized immediately that the sword was as well balanced as the one he had had before the attack if not better.

“I don’t understand how it can be in such good shape still,” Traven said incredulously.

“That’s because it was made by the ambience,” Blaize replied as he pulled a dagger from the sheath at his belt and showed it to Traven.  “So was this.  It never needs to be sharpened and never needs to be oiled.  It’s extremely rare to find anything wrought by the ambience.  That’s only the second blade besides my dagger that I’ve ever seen in my travels.”  Blaize slipped his dagger back into its sheath at his waist.

“What is the ambience?” Traven asked feeling extremely ignorant.

“I’m not surprised that you’ve never heard about it.  Most people don’t even believe in it anymore.  I don’t think anyone really knows what it is.  It’s magic.  The ancient wielders made grand objects using their magic.  They mostly killed each other off in struggles for power over a thousand years ago.  Since then, there really haven’t been many wielders at all and none have had the strength of the ancient wielders.  The only things left by them are objects that they created like this sword and my dagger.  They’re over a thousand years old and they still look new.  And that’s about all I know.  You now know as much as I do.”

Made with magic?  Traven looked over the sword he held in his hand in a new light.  Magic?  He had always dreamed of adventure and magic, but he had never thought he would actually be near it.  Now he had experienced adventure, though he couldn’t say that he enjoyed it, and here was something made with magic.

“I don’t know if I feel right about taking something from a dead warrior.”

“Traven, he’s never going to use it again.  It’s been around for over a thousand years and was made to be used forever.  Take it and be happy that you had the fortune of finding it.”  Traven figured that what Blaize said made sense.  He slipped the sword into his sheath and was delighted to find that it fit almost perfectly.  After the brief distraction, he finished digging and Blaize finished gathering up the members of the caravan.  Traven was surprised to see that Blaize had not missed anyone at all.

“How did you know which bodies were those from the caravan among all of the thieves?”

“I can tell by the way they smell.  The thieves have more of a rotten smell to them,” Blaize said crinkling his nose.

“You can smell the difference?” Traven said in amazement.

“You bet I can,” Blaize replied.  He then suddenly burst out laughing.  He calmed down after a little while.  “Traven, people don’t smell different when they’re dead.  They all stink, and that’s all there is to it.  I knew who they were because three decently dressed women would not be traveling with the thieves, and all of the rest of the men from the caravan have a red cloth on one of their arms like you did when I found you.  I could smell the difference. Ah, hah, hah, hah!”  Blaize went back to laughing, causing Traven to feel completely stupid.

Blaize helped Traven put the metal coffin back into the hole, and then they began to deposit the bodies in their final resting place.  Traven was able to keep himself under control until they got to Meritza’s body.  He broke down again and had to walk away as Blaize finished transferring the bodies into the grave.

Traven couldn’t believe that the first woman he had begun to fall in love with was dead.  He should have done something to save her.  She had died because he hadn’t been there to protect her.  If he had had been better with the sword he could have saved her.  He couldn’t help feeling that his inadequecies had contributed to her death.  He would never forget Meritza.  He would learn how to fight.  The next time he would be ready.  He would not fail anyone again.  Traven pulled the red cloth that Blaize had left in his pant pocket and tied it around his left arm.  He had been in a battle, and he would never forget it.  He returned to the grave and helped Blaize cover it up.  When they were done, Traven paused over the grave and saluted with his fist over his heart one last time.  He would not forget.

“Hurry and get your saddlebags on your new horse and let’s get out of here.  You might be getting use to the smell, but I’m definitely not.”  Traven hurried to ready the horse and weakly pulled himself up into the saddle.  He had pushed himself too hard, but he had done what he had to.  “Well Traven, it was nice meeting you.  You shouldn’t have any trouble getting back to the city.  I think that most of the thieves around here are dead.  Farewell.  I hope you get feeling back to normal without any problems.”  With that, Blaize turned and began down the road to the west.  Traven turned to head back to the city where he could find passage with the next caravan but stopped.  If Blaize was going west then maybe he was headed to Calyn too!  Traven nudged his new horse and it easily sped to catch up with Blaize.

“Where are you headed Blaize?” Traven asked timidly.

“I’m going to Calyn to join the army, and you’ve already set me back almost two days,” he answered back sternly.  Traven took a deep breath and gave it a shot.

“Would you mind if I kept you company until you got there?”  Blaize didn’t say anything for a while, but then his stern face broke into a grin.

“I usually travel alone, but I think it might be nice to have some company.  Besides, I can teach you how to use your new sword.  If a man has a sword like that, he better know how to use it.  Now it won’t be as cushy as traveling with a caravan, but we’ll have food.  All you have to do is promise to act like a man.  Is that clear?”

“No problem,” Traven replied with a grin as he clasped forearms with Blaize.

“Then let’s get moving,” Blaize said with a grin.  “You’ve wasted enough of my time already.”  Blaize sped up Flame’s pace, and Traven fell in beside him.  He couldn’t believe his luck after such an unpleasant event.  He was traveling with a warrior who was headed to join the army and had said he would teach him how to use his sword.  He would know what to do the next time he was attacked.  The next time he would be ready.

* * * * *

Wraith glanced back at the grave that had been made that morning.  Two people had been here during the day.  One of them must have been the young man from the caravan or the grave would not have been dug.  They had headed down the road to the west around noon.  Wraith grinned.  After no one had returned the day before he had thought about not coming back to check, but he was always careful.  Once again his thoroughness had paid off.  He would find out who this young man was and what had happened with his stone.  He would head west in the morning and track him down.  No need to hurry.  Wraith made a fire in the dying light and after eating laid down for the night.  He grinned as he stared up at the night sky with the sweet smell of death heavy in his nostrils.  Tomorrow he would be heading west.  West, where there were plenty of thieves to gather and create more turmoil.  He closed his eyes with a sigh and was soon dreaming of the pleasures of killing.

11

By the time Blaize finally veered off the road to set up camp for the night, it was all Traven could do to stay in the saddle.  It was already dark, and it had been a very tiring day.  When Blaize stopped in a small copse of trees not far from the road, Traven practically fell out of the saddle.  Blaize took Traven’s horse from him and took care of the horse while Traven slumped to the ground.  He tried as hard as he could to stay awake but almost immediately drifted off to sleep.  When Blaize shook him awake, a fire was already blazing and dinner was ready.  Traven took the food that was offered to him but was too groggy to really taste it or care what it was.  He quickly finished it and took a long drink of water.  No sooner had he finished the meal than his eyes were already drooping once again.

“I probably pushed you too hard today Traven, but I wanted to see how much strength you had regained.  You’re actually a lot better than I thought you’d be.  I wasn’t going to start teaching you how to fight for another couple of days, but I think you’ll be strong enough by tomorrow morning for us to start.  As for now, you need to get some sleep, so I won’t keep you up any longer.  I’ll take care of everything around here.  When I’m done I’ll make sure that no . . .”  Traven knew he should be listening, but he didn’t care.  All that he wanted to do was sleep, and as soon as his eyes were shut, he was gone.  Sleep came fast and deep.  He felt it pulsating, calling to him.  Then he heard a noise and . . .  Traven shot awake as Blaize tapped him on the neck.

“Calm down there Traven,” Blaize chuckled.  “I’m just getting you up for your training.  Now hurry up if you really want to learn.”  Blaize walked away as Traven blinked away the sleep from his eyes.  Was it morning already?  He felt like he had just closed his eyes, but he could see that the sun was already beginning to rise on the horizon.  He stood up and stretched.  Blaize had left the copse, so Traven followed to see what he wanted.  Traven was still tired and incredibly sore, but he didn’t feel weak anymore.  Maybe he was finally getting back to full strength.  As he emerged from the trees, he found Blaize waiting impatiently with his arms crossed.

“It took you long enough.  If you call that hurrying, I don’t know if I’m going to have the patience to help you out.”

“Come on Blaize.  I just got up, and I’m still tired,” Traven said as he covered a yawn and rubbed his eyes.

“I got up an hour ago and have already gone through my routine.  I only let you sleep in this morning because of your weakened state, but from now on you’ll be getting up when I do before the sun rises.”  Traven groaned.  “You said you wanted to be good enough to beat master warriors didn’t you?”  Blaize paused and looked straight into Traven’s eyes.  “Or maybe I was just hearing things as we rode along yesterday.  I thought you said you would do what I told you to without complaining, but maybe I was mistaken.”

“All right, I’m sorry,” Traven mumbled.  “I’m just tired.  What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to draw that sword of yours and kill me with it,” Blaize said as he took the two swords from his back and threw them off to the side.

“What?” Traven asked confused.

“You heard what I said,” Blaize answered back.  “It’s not like you could do anything to me anyway.  I just want to see how bad you really are.”  Traven stood for a second looking at Blaize, but seeing that it was not a joke he unsheathed his sword.  He could see that Blaize now was defenseless without his swords and did not know what to do.  “What are you doing sissy boy?  I told you to attack me.”

That was it.  Traven was tired of being called a sissy boy.  He would be careful not to do any real damage to Blaize, but Blaize was going to be sorry.  Traven lifted his sword and lunged at him with it outstretched.  Blaize nonchalantly jumped to the side and yawned.  Traven turned and took a swing at him, but Blaize just ducked under the arc of the sword and stood up with a smile on his face.  Did he think this was funny?  Traven decided the time for being nice was past and charged at Blaize swinging with his sword wildly.  All of a sudden, Blaize’s arms blurred as Traven’s hand went numb and his sword went flying out of it.  Before Traven knew what was going on, Blaize was behind him with one massive arm around his chest and a dagger pressed against his throat.

“What happened Traven?  Why is your sword lying on the ground over there?” Blaize asked tauntingly.

“I don’t know,” Traven answered, careful not to move for fear the dagger at his throat would cut him.  Blaize released Traven and slipped the dagger back underneath his shirt.  Traven took several deep breaths before he said anything.  “You almost slit my throat!  What was the point of that?  I thought you were going to teach me, not kill me.”

“I didn’t almost slit your throat Traven.  Calm down.  I said I was going to teach you, and that was your first lesson.  I want you to think about what happened, and we’ll discuss it later while we’re riding.  There are several things you should have learned from what just happened.  Now I’ll start putting you through some basic exercises.  I can see that you have no idea how to use a sword.  I thought you were hired as a merchant guard.  Don’t merchant guards usually know how to use the weapons they carry at least a little?”

“Well, I haven’t really had a chance to practice with this new sword.”  Blaize just kept staring at Traven, and he decided he might as well tell the truth.  “Okay.  I’d never even held a sword before I bought one a few days ago in Kavar.”

“That explains a lot,” Blaize said shaking his head.  “Now Traven, if you want me to teach you, you have to be honest with me.  Don’t feel bad that you don’t know anything about using a sword.  Everyone has to start somewhere.  I will tell you this though.  If you do exactly what I say and work hard at it, you’ll be able to hold your own in a sword fight in no time.”

“Thanks Blaize,” Traven said feeling relieved.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I didn’t want you to think I was worthless.”

“You are worthless,” Blaize said laughing.  “But after a week or two you won’t be anymore.  Right now I want you to watch what I do and copy it.”  Traven watched eagerly as Blaize bent down and retrieved his swords.  He sheathed one but kept the other out.  “First of all, when you grip the hilt, don’t hold it so tightly.  You want to have a firm grip on it, but if you hold it too tight you won’t be able to maneuver it as well and when you clash with other swords it will transfer the impact right up your arm.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”  Traven nodded his head and slightly loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword.  “I’m going to teach you some patterns to practice so watch closely.”

Traven paid close attention as Blaize slowly swept the blade back and forth in front of him eight times and then lunged forward with the blade outstretched straight before him.  Blaize then turned around and repeated the same motions again lunging back to where he had started.  He looked at Traven to make sure he was paying close attention and then started another pattern.  This time he wove his sword in a sideways figure eight pattern in the air before him.  After he had done it several times, he stopped and switched to something else.  This time he did not swing the sword but pretended to block invisible swords thrust from both sides and then from in front of his face and legs.  He showed Traven several other things he wanted him to do and then told him to do each of the exercises for him.  Traven had been paying close attention and sliced back and forth through the air before lunging forward.  He then turned and repeated the action lunging back to where he had been standing.  He was about to start the next exercise, but Blaize stopped him.

“That was pretty good Traven, but you’re still holding your sword too tight.  You also need to make sure that you stay on the balls of your feet the whole time you practice these exercises.  When you lunge forward, make sure you don’t put all of your weight forward or you’ll end up falling on top of your opponent.  Make sure you keep your weight directly in your center, not forward or backward.  I’ll teach you some exercises to work on your balance later.  Now show me the rest of the exercises.”  Traven began to weave his sword in the figure eight pattern but was stopped immediately by Blaize.  “Traven, I told you not to hold the hilt so tight.”

“I’m not holding it tight,” Traven answered back immediately.  “If I hold it any looser it’s going to fly out of my hands.”

“I know that might be what you think now, but I guarantee you’ll be able to control it.  I want you to start doing this right now so that you’ll become comfortable with a loose grip while you’re practicing.  You’ll find that it’s not as bad as you think.”  Traven loosened his grip on the hilt and began to weave the pattern once again afraid he would lose hold of the sword, but surprisingly the sword seemed to flow easier through the pattern and never came loose.  “You see what I mean.”  Traven nodded and continued through the rest of the exercises.  After being stopped several more times and shown what he was doing wrong, Traven finally made it through all of the patterns without Blaize stopping him.

“Good job Traven,” Blaize said when Traven finished the set of exercises.  “You’re a quick learner.  Now we need to get moving.  We’ve already lost about an hour.”

Traven followed Blaize as he made his way back into the copse of trees feeling pretty good about himself.  He helped Blaize break camp, and they were soon heading west along the road.  Traven reached down and patted his new horse.  He had decided yesterday that he was going to call the big stallion Pennon.  It was definitely a mighty horse.  Blaize said the horse might even be faster than his own.  Blaize had also said it was a trained warhorse and that Traven needed to make sure he was careful when he was around other people.  Traven was sad that he had lost Dapple but glad to have Pennon.  All he needed now was to learn to fight like Blaize.

“So Traven, what did you learn from our little encounter this morning?”  Traven was taken by surprise.  He hadn’t thought at all about what he was supposed to learn from the encounter and said the first thing that came to his mind.

“I learned that I stink.”

“That’s not a very good answer Traven even though it’s true.  What else did you learn?”

“That, uh, I need to tell you the truth.”

“No Traven, I told you that after.”  Blaize sighed when Traven gave him a blank look.  “Okay I’ll tell you what you were supposed to learn from that.  First of all I wanted to show you that things aren’t always what they seem.  You might think that an enemy is unarmed or harmless, but you never know.  You thought I didn’t have any weapons because I threw my swords down, even though I had shown you my dagger yesterday.  You have to pay close attention and be very careful when facing an opponent.  The other thing I wanted to show you was that your body can also be used as a weapon.  I didn’t need the dagger to kill you.  I jabbed my hand into your wrist to make you drop your sword and could have just as easily snapped your neck.  Even if you don’t have a weapon, you can still be lethal.  Always remember that.”

As Blaize retreated back into the silence that he usually held while they were riding, Traven thought about what he had said.  He had never thought of all of that when he had faced Blaize but saw that it was very true.  Traven watched the countryside for a while before retreating into his own thoughts of adventure.  They rode on in silence until midday when they pulled over to the river to water the horses and eat.  After eating, Traven unsheathed his sword to begin practicing, but Blaize told him to leave his sword by the horses because he was going to teach him some exercises to do without weapons.  These would help him work on his balance and agility.  Traven put his sword back in its sheath and left it by the horses as he made his way over to Blaize.

Blaize soon had him doing running dives and rolls.  After that he had him practice ducking and jumping.  Blaize then had him practice running and kicking into the air as he jumped.  He had Traven do several other things before finally deciding that it was time to leave.  Traven was sweating and breathing hard as he pulled himself into Pennon’s saddle.  Maybe all of this training was not going to be as fun as he had at first thought.  They rode until the sun had set.  When they stopped for the night he was happy to finally get out of the saddle and rest, but just as he was making himself comfortable Blaize stopped him.

“Come on Traven.  It’s time for you to do your exercises.  I want you to spend half an hour working on your agility and then spend half an hour working on your sword work.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Traven said incredulously thinking of all of his sore muscles.  “Don’t I get a break at the end of the day?”

“It’s not the end of the day until you’ve done your exercises.  And don’t cheat at any of your exercises,” Blaize added.  “I don’t care if you don’t do them properly, because all you are doing is hurting yourself.  If you really want to become a good fighter, make sure you do all of them correctly.  When you’re done I’ll have dinner ready and the camp set up.  Now hurry up and get started.  The sooner you start, the sooner you get to stop and rest.”

Traven trudged away from the camp and started practicing the diving rolls and continued with the rest of the exercises.  When he was done with the agility exercises he started over again and did them several more times.  When he figured he had been doing them for about half an hour, he got his sword and practiced the other exercises.  By the time he had gone through all of the sword exercises once, his arm and legs were shaking with the effort.  He wanted to quit, but remembering what Blaize had said he continued on.  He continued going through the motions until Blaize finally called him back to the camp to eat.  He walked slowly over to the camp on unstable legs and slumped down next to the fire with a thump.  Blaize handed him his food which he ate immediately.  He then wrapped himself up in his cloak and drifted off to the world of dreams.

The next morning Traven found that Blaize hadn’t been joking.  He was rudely awakened about an hour before sunrise by Blaize’s boot being jammed in his ribs.  By the time Traven began to go through his exercises, Blaize was already twirling from one intricate pattern to the next in the distance.  Traven wished he could work on a pattern like that instead of doing his dumb exercises, but knew that Blaize would not teach him more intricate patterns until he had worked on the basics.  An hour later he trudged back to the camp, and they were soon on their way down the road with the sun peeking over the horizon at their backs.  When they stopped for lunch Blaize sent Traven to work on his exercises again.  Traven did them again but was noticing that already he couldn’t keep his mind on what he was doing.  The exercises were becoming easy enough that he let his mind wander while he worked on them.  When they stopped for the night, he immediately trudged off to work on his exercises before Blaize had a chance to tell him to.  Traven was extremely tired by the time he finished but was actually able to stay up after supper for a while and talk with Blaize before going to sleep.

Traven woke up by himself the following morning and had already started his exercises by the time Blaize got up and started his.  Traven followed the same routine as he had the previous day and was glad to find that his muscles now only ached slightly at the end of the day.  On the fourth day the landscape began to change from the flat grasslands into rolling hills.  Blaize informed him that the beginning of the hills marked the halfway point between Kavar and Four Bridges.  The previously straight road began to wind around some of the larger hills.  Traven sometimes lost sight of the river for an hour or more.  They stopped a little before midday to water the horses.  Blaize said the road would not come back next to the river for another couple of hours.  Traven walked up a small hill to do his exercises and to his surprise was followed by Blaize.

“How are your exercises coming along?” Blaize asked.  “Are they getting any easier for you?”

“To tell you the truth I don’t have to pay much attention to what I’m doing anymore.  It’s kind of boring how easy it is to do the exercises.”

“That’s good to hear,” Blaize said with a smile.  “One of the main points of working these patterns every day is so that you can do any of them immediately without even thinking about it.  I watched you this morning, and I think you’re ready to learn some more intricate patterns.”  Traven smiled eagerly.  “Don’t get too excited.  It’s not going to be anything like what I practice.  It’s just one step above the basics.  You’ll still be doing the same agility exercises for now, but I’ll show you some new sword patterns.”

Blaize unsheathed one of his blades and began to demonstrate the new patterns.  The first was merely a combination of what Traven had already been working on.  The pattern consisted of several blocks, then horizontal slashing, and then more blocks.  From there Blaize lunged forward immediately going into the figure eight stroke before returning to some more slashing and blocking.  It looked pretty easy to Traven, but the second pattern was a whole different matter.  It started with the blade poised above the head.  From there Blaize fell down onto his back keeping his sword in front of him.  He then proceeded to work different strokes back and forth in front of his body with his back to the ground before going to his knees and working the same strokes over again without breaking the rhythm of the strokes.  He finally was back on his feet working the same strokes.  The strokes really didn’t look that hard to do.  The problem was that he wasn’t sure that he could go from his feet, to his back, to his knees, and back to his feet with both hands on the sword and not break the rhythm of the strokes.  The next patterns were basically the same things he had been doing, but he was supposed to jump and do them while in the air.  The last pattern was another pattern that combined a bunch of the strokes together in a weaving pattern that he was supposed to do while only standing on one leg.  He was then to switch legs and do it standing on the other one.

When Blaize was convinced that Traven knew what he was supposed to do, they returned to their rested mounts and followed the road as it wound its way away from the river and through the hills.  When they stopped for the night Traven did his exercises and struggled through his new patterns.  They were longer than the ones he had been working on, and he didn’t have the chance to practice each pattern as much as he had been able to practice the previous ones.  He returned to the fire to eat, frustrated with the problems the new patterns were posing.  After finishing his rabbit, he realized that he was not ready to go to sleep and decided to go back and work on some of the harder patterns.  An hour later he had overcome most of his problems except for the back, knees, feet pattern.  No matter how hard he tried he could never switch bodily positions without breaking the rhythm of his strokes.  He yelled in frustration, and Blaize came over to him from the fire.

“What’s the matter Traven?”

“I can’t get this last pattern right,” Traven responded.  “It doesn’t matter what I do.  I just can’t do it.”

“You’re trying too hard Traven.  You’re not supposed to be able to do all of the patterns perfectly right away.  That’s why you practice them every day.  Each day you’ll get a little better until you get to the point where you perfect the pattern.  You have to remember that I mastered that pattern a long time ago, but I did have to work hard to master it.  Just do your best and keep working on it.  You’ll get it sooner or later.  Now come on back to camp.  You need to get some sleep.”  Traven was not sure if he believed Blaize about the pattern being hard for him to learn but followed him back to the camp feeling a little less discouraged than he had before.

They traveled through the rolling hills for the next three days following the winding road.   Each day Traven worked hard on his exercises and began to slowly improve.  They emerged from the hills at the end of the third day and made camp on the open grasslands once again.  Traven continued working strenuously on his exercises and by midday of the second day out of the hills, he had mastered all of his new patterns.  Blaize said that he would teach him some new patterns after they got past Four Bridges.  Traven figured that would give him a couple more days to practice his patterns, but just after sunset Four Bridges appeared on the horizon.

12

By the time they actually got close enough for Traven to see what the city looked like, it was already night.  The light from the rising moon, however, allowed him to take in the surroundings.  The city sat perched between the massive Adrinavelle River and the almost as impressive Lithel River.  The Lithel emptied into the Adrinavelle just west of the city almost doubling the size of the already mighty river.  From here until the Adrinavelle emptied into the sea near Calyn, there was no easy way to cross the imposing river.  The swift currents and jutting rocks that broke the river’s surface every so often made travel by boat next to impossible.  The river being a mile wide in many places cut the northern part of Kalia off from the southern part.  There were only two points where one could cross from the north to the south or from the south to the north and that was at Calyn and at Four Bridges.

Traven immediately saw how the city had gotten its name.  Before him were two great, stone bridges crossing the Adrinavelle next to each other.  Blaize said one was for traffic entering the city and one was for traffic leaving the city.  The bridges were supported by thick, sturdy columns of stone that rose from the ground beneath the river.  On the other side of the city Traven could just make out two bridges spanning the Lithel.

“Some still call this city Two Bridges, and I’ve seen it called that on many older maps,”  Blaize mentioned.  “But ever since the two newer bridges were built next to the older ones, most people started calling it Four Bridges.”

The city only had one side protected by a tall wall to keep invaders from entering the city from the east.  The city was protected by the natural barriers of the two rivers on all other sides.  The city covered more ground than Kavar had, but he could only make out a few buildings that were more than two stories.  Where Kavar had seemed almost cramped within its walls, Four Bridges looked open and spread out.  As they approached the bridge, Traven was surprised to find no one on guard and asked Blaize about it.

“Four Bridges lies in the heart of Kalia and is a very open city.  They let people come and go as they wish.  During the day they have patrols stationed throughout the city to keep crime and disorder down, but at night no one is on watch except a few guards at the north and south ends of the east wall.”  Blaize paused and gave Traven an adventurous grin.  “When you walk the streets of Four Bridges at night, it’s at your own risk.”

Traven just shook his head as they continued across the bridge with the Adrinavelle rushing beneath them.  The only sounds in the night were the horses’ hooves clinking against the stone bridge and the rushing of the river.  At the end of the bridge there was a small square.  All around the square roads branched off into different sections of the city.  Traven followed as Blaize turned down the road to the right of the square that paralleled the Adrinavelle as it made its way past the city.  After riding for several minutes in silence, Blaize stopped and turned to him.

“Stay alert Traven,” Blaize said quietly.  “I wasn’t joking earlier when I said that the streets aren’t very safe at night, especially the streets we’re going to be traversing.  I don’t know how much money you have, but I have a very small amount so we’re going to be staying at an inexpensive tavern.  The accommodations aren’t all that wonderful, but believe me, after sleeping on the ground for so long, any bed at all seems wonderful.  Besides, the ale’s always cheaper, and there’s more excitement in the taverns.  I hope no cutpurses are stupid enough to attack us, but just in case be ready.”

Traven followed as Blaize led the way down a narrow street that led away from the river and into the city.  He didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to attack Blaize, but kept alert as they made their way down the street between darkened buildings.  Shadows from the buildings bathed the street in darkness making it difficult to see much more than the lighter opening at the end of the street.  Blaize took a right at the avenue and then directly took a left down another dark, narrow street.  When they were about halfway down the street, two shadows suddenly separated themselves from the wall of a building about twenty feet ahead of them and moved to block the street.  Traven’s heart quickened as fear enveloped him.

“We’re here to collect your fee for trespassing in our territory,” the gruff looking man on the right growled.  “Unfortunate for you fellas that the fee is everything you have with you including your lives.”  Blaize pulled up nonchalantly as the men began to advance slowly towards them and leaned over to Traven.

“I’ll take care of these two weasels,” the warrior said quietly.  “I can’t believe they’re stupid enough to attack us while we’re on horses and they’re on foot.  Maybe I’ll just run them over.”  As Blaize turned back to the advancing men, Traven heard a sound behind him and turned to see what it was.  Two more men were now advancing up the street from behind with their blades bared.  Traven then heard another sound from above.  Blaize shook his head.  “I guess these guys really . . .”

Blaize’s words were cut off as someone slammed into him knocking him from his horse.  Traven had no time to think about what was happening as another man crashed into him knocking him from Pennon’s back.  Traven instinctively went into a diving roll as he hit the ground, ending up in a crouch with his sword already flying from its sheath.  The man who had knocked him down was just beginning to pick himself up off of the ground as Traven lunged, slashing at him.  The cutpurse dropped back lifelessly to the ground as Traven spun to face the attackers who had been sneaking up from behind.  They were now approaching more cautiously than they had been, but he could see the whites of their teeth as they approached with murderous grins occupying their dirty mugs.  Traven stood with his sword ready but had no idea what to do against two attackers.  His stomach curdled with fearful anticipation.

Blaize suddenly materialized by Traven’s side just as the two attackers were closing in on him.  The grins left their faces as they suddenly found themselves faced by another armed man, this one even taller than the first and with a sword in either hand.  After a second they decided that they didn’t like the odds and began to run away down the street.  Traven watched in amazement as the cutpurses abruptly crashed into the ground after only several strides with metal embedded in their backs.  He turned a confused look in Blaize’s direction and found him with his hands outstretched and open in the direction of the two unmoving cutpurses.  His swords were safely sheathed on his back, and he had a grin on his face.

“They thought they could attack me and get away with it did they.  Ha!”  Traven walked nervously alongside Blaize as he went over to the two men and bent down.  He straightened back up after a moment with two silver crescent shaped blades in his hands that he deftly slipped back behind his belt.  Traven wondered what they were and asked Blaize.  “These babies are my war crescents.  They have several uses and you just saw one of them.”

“Where did those other two guys come from?” Traven asked with a shaky voice, looking back at the two men lying lifeless near their horses.

“They must have been waiting up on the roof.  These thieves were better organized than I had thought.  Oh well,” Blaize said as he shrugged.

“Thanks for being so quick with the others Blaize,” Traven said with a gulp.  “If you had been any longer, I would be dead.”

“I don’t know about that,” Blaize replied.  “You finished that first guy off pretty quick didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Traven said uncomfortably.  He tried to compose himself as he stared at the dead body while tears threatened to wet his eyes.  He couldn’t get the sick feeling out of his stomach.  “It happened so fast I didn’t even have a chance to think about what was going on.”

“That’s why we practice Traven, so we can fight with our instincts and not have to stop and think about what to do.”  Blaize gave him a reassuring smile and bent back down.  Traven watched silently as Blaize cut off a piece of cloth from one of the cutpurse’s right sleeve.  He then used it to clean the blood from his swords and war crescents.  Traven numbly followed Blaize’s example and reached down to cut a piece of cloth from the cutpurse’s cloak.  “What are you doing?” Blaize almost shouted as he caught Traven’s arm.  Traven stepped back startled.

“I was just going to clean my blade,” he mumbled.

“You have to cut the cloth from the right sleeve of your opponent,” Blaize stated.  “And nowhere else.”  Traven bent back down over the other thief and cut off a piece of cloth from the man’s right sleeve.  “That’s better.”

“Why the right sleeve?” Traven asked as he wiped his blade clean.

“I don’t know,” Blaize replied.  “That’s just how I have always done it.  I guess that cutting cloth from your opponent’s sword arm shows your superiority over him and that he will not raise his arm against you again.”  Blaize then smiled and began to search through the clothes of the two dead men.

“What are you doing now?” Traven asked quietly.

“After something like this happens, you always search the cutpurses for any valuables before you leave.  It’s not stealing or anything.  Everything on them is probably not really theirs.  Besides, you deserve something for helping to cut down on the crime in a city don’t you?”

“I guess so,” Traven answered slowly.

“Give me a hand,” Blaize said as he continued to rummage through the soiled clothing of the two thieves.  “I want to get out of here and into a nice, rowdy tavern as quick as possible.”

Traven went over to the two men who had been on the roof and began to search them, being careful not to get any blood on his hands.  The first man had nothing on him but a few coppers which Traven transferred to his own money pouch.  The second man however, had a fat little purse full of silver coins.  By the time he had finished with the two men, Blaize had already finished up with the four others and was climbing up onto Flame.

“Let’s get out of here,” he spat.  “The patrols will clean this mess up in the morning.”

Traven jumped onto Pennon and followed Blaize out from the narrow side street and into a much wider avenue.  Taverns lined the sides of the avenue with inviting pools of light and laughter flooding out from their open doors.  Blaize picked the second one on their left.  After leaving their mounts in the small adjoining stable and leaving a small tip to make sure the stable boys took extra good care of them, they walked through the front door into the noisy tavern with their saddlebags draped over their shoulders.  Traven was assaulted by the sound of raucous laughter and the sour smell of ale as he passed into the common room of the tavern.  The small common room was packed with drunken men singing and laughing.  Blaize found a small table in the back corner of the room that was unoccupied and sat down at it with Traven.  As soon as they sat down a pretty barmaid slopped a mug of ale down in front of each of them.

“Is there anything else you fellows might be a wanting,” she asked with a grin on her face.

“I think we’re fine for now,” Blaize said giving her a wink.  She giggled and hurried off.  Traven looked into the mug that had been set before him and sniffed.  It definitely didn’t smell that good, but he was a man now, and men drank ale.  He tipped his head back and took a swallow of the ale.  It wasn’t as bad as it smelled, but it really wasn’t all that good either.  He put the mug back down after taking another swallow of the ale.

“All right Traven.  Empty your pockets on the table and we’ll see how much the cutpurses gave us.”  Traven tossed the bag full of silver tallies onto the table and fished out the few coppers he had found on the other man.  “Is that all from the two you searched?” Blaize asked suspiciously.  Traven nodded his head.  “They must have been the ones who were going to get what we had on us.  As for what I found, I’d say that we weren’t their first hit of the night, though we were definitely their last,” Blaize said, laughing while he drained half the ale from his mug and began to display what he had found on the cutpurses.  Traven took another swallow and stared in amazement as the treasures began to pile up on the table.  First Blaize tossed five small bags full of coins onto the table.  They were followed by two rings, one gold and one silver.  The gold one had a small ruby in it while the sliver ring was no more than a band with several swirls etched into it.  Lastly he tossed a small dagger onto the table with a jewel encrusted hilt and sheath.

“All right, I guess this is everything,” Blaize said as he downed the rest of his ale.  “Now time to divide it up.  Since I did most of the work, I think I’ll keep everything I found and you can keep what you found.”  Traven sat in silence for a few moments looking at the coppers and the bag of silver before Blaize burst out laughing.  “I’m just kidding Traven!  Don’t look so sad.  We’ll divide it up equally.  Three of the bags I found are actually full of gold tallies and the other two are full of silver.  I’m going to let you keep the dagger since I already have plenty, so I’ll keep two of the bags of gold and a bag of silver.  I am also partial to the gold ring, so I’ll take that too.  The rest is all yours.”  Traven smiled as he slipped the silver ring onto one of his fingers and tied the three small bags filled with coins to his belt.  He took the gaudy dagger and was going to slip it behind his belt, but was stopped by Blaize.

“Don’t display that for everyone to see Traven.  Slip it in your boot.”  When Traven looked at Blaize confused, he showed Traven what he meant by slipping a dagger from his own boot and then showing him how to put it back in.  Traven slipped the small dagger carefully inside his boot the same way Blaize had.  He had had no idea that Blaize had a dagger in his boot.  He wondered how many weapons Blaize really did have on him.

Traven took a few more swallows from his mug finishing off the rest of the ale.  He was feeling pretty good.  He had just become wealthier and was drinking like a man in a man’s tavern.  The barmaid came back by the table exchanging the empty mugs for two full ones with a big smile on her face and a wink for Blaize.  Blaize said something about her beautiful smile and keeping the ale coming and then flipped her a silver tally.  She snatched it out of the air and hurried off with another grin for him.  Blaize clicked his mug against Traven’s, and they both took a long swallow.  This ale was tasting better and better.  He was feeling great.  He talked a little with Blaize as they finished off their second mug of ale and were brought a third.

Suddenly the room grew quieter, and then the men began to hoot and holler louder than before.  Traven looked up from his mug and saw what all of the excitement was about.  One of the barmaids had climbed up on one of the tables in the middle of the room.  The men in the tavern quieted down again as she began to sing.  She was attractive, but Traven did not think that she had that good of a voice.  He wondered why everyone was paying so much attention to her.  In fact, her voice was not only not good, it was awful.  He turned back to Blaize and found him staring at her also.

“Why’s everybody so impressed?” Traven slurred as he took another long swill from his mug.  “She sounds aw’ful.”

“She’s not up there for her singing Traven,” Blaize said with a grin on his face.

Traven shrugged and went to take another drink but found that his mug was empty.  He turned it upside down and shook it to make sure, but nothing came out.  The barmaid was suddenly at his side, exchanging his empty mug for another full one.  He smiled and emptied half of the mug in one swallow and thanked her.  The barmaid just laughed as she walked away from his table.  The men began clapping as the woman paused and then began singing another song.  He didn’t bother to clap but instead took another drink.  That was the worst performance he had ever heard.  These men must not have ever heard someone who could really sing if they were clapping for her.  Oh well, he thought, whatever makes them happy.

Traven slowly looked up from his mug.  When his eyes finally made it to the woman on the table, he gasped as he realized what he had missed before.  The attractive barmaid was not dressed decently at all.  Her skirt was short enough to show her ankles and bare calves and the top of her blouse plunged lower than was decent.  Traven quickly looked back at his mug of ale, blushing.  He had never seen something so indecent in all of his life.  He could not believe that he had not noticed immediately when she had started singing.  He took a long draw from his mug, finishing the ale in it.  If any of the girls so much as walked around in public barefoot back home after they had reached womanhood, they were chastised harshly by the folks in the town.  He couldn’t believe the indecency of what he was seeing.  However, the woman was quite attractive.  What am I thinking? Traven thought ashamedly.  He looked back down at his mug again hurriedly.  He found it somehow once again full.  He took a very long drink from it trying to clear his head.

Traven glanced back up at the barmaid.  He quickly looked back into his mug, but his gaze was almost immediately drawn back to the woman.  She really was quite beautiful.  If all of the other men were enjoying watching her, why couldn’t he enjoy it?  He was a man after all was he not?  He finished off the rest of the ale in his mug and began to clap with the other men in the tavern.  She was beautiful!  To the disappointment of Traven, the woman finally stopped singing and danced on out of the room smiling as the cheers of the men in the tavern followed her.  Traven decided he wanted to talk to the beautiful barmaid and stood up to follow her.  He tried to walk in the direction she had gone, but the room seemed to be spinning around and around and around.  He tried to take another step, but instead of going forward he crashed into the table next to him, spilling ale all over the man sitting there.

“I’m awfully sorry bout that sir,” Traven slobbered as he pushed himself up from the table spilling a bowl of stew onto the man’s lap.

“You’re gonna be sorry, you drunk . . .”  Traven did not have a chance to hear the rest of the man’s sentence as he watched with a grin on his face as the man’s fist suddenly filled his vision with darkness.

13

Traven slowly sat up in the darkness.  His head hurt so bad that he almost flopped right back down in the straw.  Straw? Where am I?  He tried to figure out where he was, but he had no idea.  He dimly remembered going to a tavern with Blaize and something about a singing barmaid, but other than that everything was rather fuzzy.  As Traven adjusted to the light he realized that one of his eyes would not open as far as the other.  He touched it softly and grimaced as he found that his eye was swollen.  He looked around and found that he was in some type of a barn or something like it.  Blaize was nowhere to be found.  Tiny slivers of light streamed into the barn letting Traven know that it was morning.  He wondered how late it was but stopped thinking.  The pounding in his head was not getting any better and concentrating on anything at all was almost impossible.  Traven started to ease himself slowly back down onto the straw when the door suddenly flew open blinding him.

“Rise and shine Traven,” Blaize yelled out.  “I already got Pennon saddled for you, so let’s get out of here before the owner comes out and finds us here.  Wow, you sure have a nice shiner!”

Traven slowly rose to his feet, squinting against the brightness of the light from outside as he tenderly touched his eye again.  As he stumbled out of the shed, he saw that the sun had not even come up yet, but it was already too bright outside for someone whose head was pounding like Traven’s.  He made his way over to Pennon and slowly pulled himself up onto the tall horse.  Once on top, he kept his eyes shut as much as possible letting Pennon follow Flame by himself.  Every step sent a jolt through his body making the pounding in his head even worse.

“Quit all of that groaning or you’ll wake someone up,” Blaize called out from in front.  Traven clamped his mouth shut and tried not to moan as they made their way down the street.  It was then that he finally realized that they were not in Four Bridges anymore.  He slowly turned and glanced back down the road.  In the distance he could make out the city.  Right behind them was a little farm.

“When did we leave the city?” Traven was thoroughly confused.  “What happened last night?”

“Oh, I suppose you don’t remember getting us kicked out of the tavern,” Blaize said.  When Traven only stared back blankly he went on.  “Well, here it is in a nutshell.  You drank way too much, started a fight which I had to finish, we were thrown out of the tavern, and I dragged you out of the city to the little shed where we spent the rest of the night.  I am not happy about that.  I was really looking forward to sleeping in a bed, but because of you I ended up sleeping on the ground again.  So I hope it was all worth it to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Traven managed in between his muffled groans.  “You can cut my head off and make us both happy.”

“Why would I want to do that?  If I did that for you, you wouldn’t learn your lesson.  I guess this will teach you not to drink so MUCH!”

Traven collapsed down on Pennon’s neck with his head between his hands as Blaize shouted the last word.  His head felt like it was going to explode.  He was dimly aware through the pain of Blaize laughing hysterically.  It was not funny at all.  Blaize had known what was going to happen and hadn’t bothered to stop him from drinking too much.  Darn Blaize!  He wouldn’t be laughing if his head felt like it was being pounded by a huge mallet.  Traven clung onto the saddle and tried not to think of the pain as they continued on down the road.  With each jolt he became more nauseated from the pain in his head and the queasiness of his stomach.

“Hey Traven!  Want some moldy biscuits for breakfast?  They smell pretty good,” Blaize said while trying to hold back a grin.  That was it for Traven.  He leaned over the side of Pennon and emptied what little was in his stomach.  Blaize started laughing again but all that Traven could do was lay back down against Pennon and wish he was dead.  Drinking didn’t make someone a man, it made them an idiot.  He promised himself that he would never get drunk again.  The only things that came from drinking were bad judgement and pain.

When they finally stopped at midday, Traven was feeling a little better but his head was still killing him.  Blaize made a quick fire and boiled some water.  He then crushed up some herbs that he pulled out of a sack in his saddlebag and mixed it in with the hot water.

“Here,” he said handing it to Traven.  “This will help with your headache.”  Traven got a whiff of it and was not sure if it was really supposed to help his head or if Blaize just wanted to see him gag on it.  Traven stared into his cup for a while trying to work up the courage to drink.  He finally tipped it back and gulped it down as quickly as possible.  It was the bitterest thing he had ever tasted in his life.  The taste it left in his mouth was almost as bad.  Blaize just grinned and quickly cleaned everything up.  By the time they were riding again, Traven’s headache was beginning to slowly go away.  After another five minutes it was almost completely gone.  He was actually able to sit up in the saddle and enjoy the surroundings in the cool air of autumn.  Blaize’s bitter tea had actually worked.

“I can see you’re feeling better,” Blaize said with a smile.  Traven kept his silence.  “Well, aren’t you going to thank me?”

“You know Blaize, I would thank you if you hadn’t waited until now to give me the medicine.  You could have given it to me this morning.”

“I could have, but then you wouldn’t have remembered as well what happens when you drink too much.  I waited to give it to you for your own good.”  Traven just shook his head.  He was pretty sure Blaize had waited just so he could laugh at him while he was in pain all morning to get even with him for causing them to spend the night in a shed.

The rest of the day went much better than the morning had.  Traven felt perfectly normal except for a slight queasy feeling in his stomach.  When Blaize’s medicine finally began to wear off, all Traven felt was a slight aching in his head.

When they stopped for the night, Blaize asked if Traven felt well enough to begin his new exercises but Traven declined.  He wanted desperately to learn the new exercises, but he was afraid if he started jumping around his headache would come back in full force.  Blaize didn’t seem to mind, so Traven didn’t feel guilty about foregoing his training for a night.  He helped Blaize get the camp set up, and they roasted the rabbits that they had caught during the afternoon.  After dinner was over, Traven leaned back and stared up into the clear night sky.

“Hey Blaize, how many stars do you think there are in the sky?”

“What?” Blaize asked looking up confusedly.

“Well haven’t you ever wondered how many stars are up there?”

“Not really Traven.  I look up and I see thousands of stars.  I see that there are too many to count and instead of wasting my time wondering how many there are up there, I am satisfied knowing that there are just simply too many to count.  What does it really matter how many stars are up there?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter.  I was just wondering,” Traven answered shrugging.  “Didn’t you ever used to wonder about things you’d probably never find out?  It’s fun to wonder about how things might be.”  When Blaize stayed silent, Traven glanced over at him.  He was staring into the fire with a far off look in his eyes.  “What’s wrong?”  Blaize gave a start at Traven’s words and looked back to him.  Blaize sighed.

“I was just remembering something that I’ve tried to forget but haven’t succeeded to.  I guess I might as well tell you about it.  I haven’t talked about it for a long time.”  Blaize took a deep breath.  “Yes, there was a time when I used to day dream almost as much as you.  All that changed awhile ago.  When I was only a few years older than you are now, I thought the world was great.  Everything was going perfect for me, and the most beautiful woman ever to live loved me.  She had hair like midnight and eyes the color of the raging sea.”  Blaize stared back into the fire as his gaze once again took on a faraway look.  “I never thought someone like her could really love me, and then she was going to be taken away from me . . .”

* * * * *

“You know I love you Blaize,” Sherrial said with a teasing grin on her face.  Blaize stared back at her not knowing whether she was joking or being serious.

“I’m being serious,” Blaize said timidly.  “Is that really how you feel?”  Sherrial put on a serious face and nodded.

“Then it doesn’t matter what your father wants.  If you don’t want to marry the Baron’s son, don’t.  Your happiness is more important than money.”  Sherrial turned away from Blaize’s intense gaze.

“Blaize, it’s not that easy.  It’s not just that my dad wants this for me.  You don’t understand what it’s like to be offered the chance to actually be somebody.  You know how rare it is for a peasant to be adopted into the nobles.  This is my one chance.  If I marry Cecil, I’ll become the Baroness tal Drathar one day.  I love you, but I don’t know what to do.”  Blaize walked over to Sherrial and took her in his arms.  She leaned her head against his chest as tears began to stream down her face.  “I almost feel like I have to do this, like I owe it to all the peasants from our village.  I feel like I owe it to my father.  He wants this so much for me and would be so proud.  And then I feel like I owe it to you not to marry Cecil.  I don’t know what to do!”

Sherrial began sobbing quietly against Blaize’s chest as she clung to him.  Blaize held her tightly as he stroked her vibrant, long black hair.  He didn’t know what to do either.  Maybe it would be better for him to let Sherrial marry Cecil.  She would have all of the comforts that she deserved and everyone in the village would benefit from having Sherrial as the new Baroness.  But how could he live while the woman that he loved was married to another man.  He knew that he couldn’t be happy without Sherrial in his life.  Why did the Baron’s son have to be hunting near the village while Sherrial was out in the woods?  Why did he have to be so enchanted with her beauty?  If the Baron’s son had not bumped into her none of this would have ever happened.  Blaize had been considering proposing to Sherrial before all of this started.  If he hadn’t been so afraid, he would have asked her father a long time ago for her hand in marriage.  Why did things have to happen like this in life?  The more Blaize thought of his love for Sherrial, the more sure he was of what he had to do.  He took a deep breath when Sherrial had finally stopped crying and pushed her gently back from him.  He looked her in the eyes and did the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.

“Sherrial, you don’t owe anything to anybody.”  Blaize took another deep breath.  “And you definitely don’t owe anything to me.  The only person you owe this decision to is yourself.  You need to do what is the best for you.  You need to do what will make you the happiest.”  When he was finished, he waited for a while in the silence and then turned and walked slowly away when she didn’t say anything.

As soon as he was out of sight he picked up his speed and ran the rest of the way to his small cottage.  He went inside, slamming the door shut behind him, and slumped down onto one of his few chairs.  He shouldn’t be so upset.  He should have realized that she would pick the Baron’s son over him.  He had nothing to offer her but this small cottage and himself.  Cecil could give her whatever she wanted.  He had land, money, and prestige.  Why would she choose a poor man who did not even know what he was going to do with his life?  He had held on to the hope that she might love him enough to give up everything for him, but he realized now how foolish that had been.  Blaize slowly fell asleep as he sat in the chair pondering what there was to live for in his life.

Time passed slowly as the day of the wedding drew near.  Blaize filled his days finishing something he had been making for Sherrial and preparing to leave the village.  He had started building a small chest for Sherrial several weeks before Cecil had stumbled upon her and ruined his life.  Blaize decided that he might as well finish it and give it to her as a wedding present so she would know that he was not upset with her.  He had also decided that as soon as he had delivered the chest, he would leave before the wedding to find adventure in the world.  He had always wanted to leave the village and make his way out into the world but had never had a good enough reason to leave the village until now.  He didn’t want to be anywhere near where his only love would be living with another man.  Blaize had heard that Cecil had visited the village several times to make sure that Sherrial was being taken care of and that the wedding was to go on as planned despite some bickering among the nobles about Cecil marrying a peasant.

Blaize finally finished the chest the day before the wedding.  He hadn’t seen her since she had made her decision.  He hoped that she would accept his gift.  It wasn’t as fancy and expensive as the things Cecil would give her, but it was sturdy and well crafted.  Blaize had used strong wood for the chest and had spent hours carving vines and sunburst flowers all over the chest.  He spent the rest of the day packing his few belongings so he would be ready to leave with first light in the morning.  As night fell, he realized that he could stall no longer, and picking up the wooden chest, he slowly made his way over to the cottage that Sherrial shared with her father.  When he arrived, he realized that this was going to be harder than he had thought it would be.  He set the chest down and took a deep breath before knocking several times on the door.  After a minute the door finally swung open exposing Sherrial’s father.

“Sorry I took so long.  I was busy trying to, oh, it’s just you Blaize.”  The graying, short man frowned as he realized who was at the door.  “Now Blaize, I thought that you had gotten the message already.  Sherrial is marrying Cecil tomorrow and doesn’t need you here trying to make her feel bad because she chose him over you.  I would suggest that you get out of here before I grow upset.”

“I’m not here to make her feel bad sir,” Blaize said softly.  “I just wanted to bring her a wedding gift since I’m leaving in the morning before the wedding.”  Blaize picked up the wooden chest.  “Is it all right if I bring it inside?”

“I guess so, but hurry up.”  Blaize stepped inside the house and gently laid the chest down.  He had hoped he would be able to say goodbye to Sherrial, but he figured that it was probably better this way.  “All right, you’ve delivered your gift so it’s time for you to go.  I’m glad you’re leaving in the morning so that I don’t have to see you moping around the village anymore. Good luck.”  Blaize thanked him for letting him leave the chest and started to walk out the door.

“Daddy, who are you . . .” Blaize froze in mid step at the sound of Sherrial’s voice.  He turned around slowly to find her staring at him from the open door of her bedroom.

“Blaize was just leaving sweetie.  He brought over a wedding gift but needs to get home so he’ll be ready to leave in the morning.”  Blaize continued to stare at Sherrial as her father pushed him through the door.  Sherrial looked down at the elaborately carved chest and then back at Blaize.  She looked like she was trying to decide what to say as the door was slammed shut in front of his face.  He turned slowly and started to walk away as the door burst back open.

“Blaize, wait a minute.  Will you come inside and talk to me for a few moments.”  Blaize smiled as Sherrial took his hand and led him back inside the house.  Sherrial’s father mumbled something under his breath as he grabbed his pipe and went out on the porch to smoke it.  They stood in silence for a few moments before Sherrial finally spoke up.  “Did you make the chest yourself?”

“I started it a long time ago for you and decided to finish it up for your wedding.”  They stood in silence for a while longer until Blaize could not handle it any longer.  “I guess I better be going.  I just wanted to bring this by and let you know that I will always love you.”  As soon as the words were out of Blaize’s mouth, he quickly turned to go realizing what he had just said.  He was stopped short as Sherrial’s soft hand grabbed his arm.

“Blaize, did you just say you loved me?”  Blaize nodded his head as tears began to stream down Sherrial’s face.  “I didn’t know.  I thought the reason you left me was because you didn’t really love me.  That’s the only reason I went on with the wedding.”  Blaize stared at her dumbfounded.

“I left because I thought the wedding was what you wanted.  I’m so sorry.”  He stepped forward and enveloped Sherrial in his massive arms.  “I didn’t know.  I didn’t know.”  Blaize held tight to Sherrial as they stood in silence.

“It’s all right Blaize,” Sherrial finally said.  “At least we found out before the wedding.  If you hadn’t come here tonight I would have made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“What are you going to do, just tell Cecil tomorrow that you changed your mind?  He won’t let you get away with it.”

“That’s true.”  After a brief pause Sherrial said, “I could disappear with you tomorrow morning when you leave.”  Blaize chuckled as he glanced down into her enchanting eyes.  “I’m serious Blaize.  I don’t know what else to do.  That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“If that’s what you want.”  Blaize could not believe it.  “I can leave as soon as you’re ready.”  Sherrial beamed her smile up at Blaize, and he felt her warmth.  He was happier than he had ever been.  In the morning they would be away from the village together.  They would venture out into the world together.  Blaize’s cheerful thoughts were shattered as Sherrial’s father began yelling from the porch.

“You get off my property now!  I won’t put up with any more of your taunting.  The wedding is going on as planned.”

“What’s going on?” Blaize asked Sherrial as he made his way towards the door.

“Oh it’s nothing,” Sherrial replied as she shrugged her thin shoulders.  “A few troublemakers have been coming by the house the last few nights threatening us if I go through with the marriage.  They say that no peasant scum is going to become the new baroness.  They haven’t done anything but make noise.  They’re harmless.”  As Blaize reached the door and looked outside he was not so sure how harmless they were.  Sherrial’s father stood in front of the porch glaring at nearly a dozen men armed with clubs and swords.  The men did not appear as harmless as Sherrial had made them sound.

“You get off my property right now or I’ll . . .”

“Or you’ll do what old man,” one of the men said cutting off Sherrial’s father.  “You aren’t going to do anything to us, but we are definitely going to do something to you.  We warned you to call off the marriage.”  The man who had been doing all of the talking walked forward to stand toe to toe with Sherrial’s father.  “We warned your little jade to stay away from the Baron’s son, but she didn’t listen,” he spat.  “Now you and the wench are going to pay!”

“I better go out there and help your father,” Blaize whispered to Sherrial.  “Have this many come together before?”

“No, usually there are only a few of them but don’t worry about it,” Sherrial whispered back.  “They’re all talk.  They aren’t going to do anything.  They’ve just been hired by some noble to try to scare me into not marrying Cecil.  I guess it really doesn’t matter now anyway.”

Blaize still felt uneasy about what was happening.  A dozen shady looking men with weapons coming in the night did not seem like nothing to him.  Seeing Sherrial’s father’s glare on the man in front of him, Blaize wondered if the old man might be able to back them off with his glare alone.  After a few more tense moments, the leader of the ruffians shrugged, took a step back, and turned to leave.  Sherrial’s sigh of relief however was cut short as the man spun back around with his blade bared and drove it into her father’s belly.  The old man gasped in surprise before slumping to the ground as Sherrial screamed from the doorway.

“Now for the wench.  Let’s be done with this,” the leader spat.

Blaize pushed the hysterical Sherrial back into the room as he slammed the door shut and bolted it in hopes of slowing the advancing mob.  Blaize looked around desperately for something to use as a weapon while Sherrial continued to weep for her father.  He found the poker next to the fire place and made his way back towards the door that was now being bombarded with hard thuds from the outside.  The old door shook with every thud, and Blaize knew that it would not hold out much longer.  Sherrial made her way to Blaize’s side and put her arms around him.

“We’re as good as dead Blaize,” she said quietly from her tear stained face.  “At least I will die beside the man I love.”  Blaize gently pushed her away from him and towards the door at the back of the room.

“We’re not dead yet Sherrial,” Blaize said with a voice of steeled determination.  “I won’t let them harm you.  I almost lost you once, and I’m not going to lose you now.”  A tremendous thud smashed into the door sending splinters flying.  “Just stay back.  I won’t let them get near you.”

Blaize turned from Sherrial’s face.  She was beautiful beyond anything he had ever seen despite her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.  No one would harm his future wife. No one!  Blaize raised the iron poker into the air as another thud almost broke the door in.  He did not know how he was going to stop a dozen men with only a poker, but he knew that he had to.  He could bear death but not the death of his Sherrial.  The door suddenly exploded inward as a man came crashing through it.  Blaize swung the poker down as hard as he could on the disoriented man’s head.  As the man collapsed to the floor, another one came in through the empty door frame waving a sword above his head.  Blaize immediately lunged forward impaling the man with his poker.  As the man slumped to the ground in surprise, Blaize snatched the sword from his hand and brought it up in front of him just in time to block the downward stroke of another ruffian’s sword.  Blaize blocked another stroke before driving his blade into the heart of his opponent.

Blaize pulled the blade quickly out of the limp body kicking it to the side to give him ground to fight on.  Another man came rushing through the doorway with a wooden club raised above his head and screaming with fury.  Blaize’s sword flashed across in front of him, ending the man’s screams.  He held his blade in front of him as this time two men slowly entered through the splintered door frame.  One of them lunged forward greedily but was stopped short as Blaize’s sword sliced into him.  Blaize leapt backwards too slowly as the second man swung his sword leaving a shallow gash across Blaize’s stomach.  Blaize immediately leaped forward over one of the fallen bodies to bring his sword crashing down on the man.  As he crumpled to join the bodies already littering the floor, two men with large clubs rushed into the room through the door.  One leaped at Blaize instantly and found himself skewered on Blaize’s sword.

Before Blaize could pull his sword free, the second man’s club came crashing down on his outstretched forearm.  His arm went numb as stabbing pain cascaded away from the strike.  Blaize screamed in pain and rage as he swung his left fist into the man’s wicked grin.  As the man stumbled back, Blaize kicked him as hard as he could in the stomach.  The man doubled over, and Blaize brought his boot up crashing into the man’s chin.  Blaize leaped to retrieve the man’s club as he fell to the ground and three more men poured through the doorway.  He gripped the club in his left hand and spun around.  The club whistled through the air before cracking into the closest man’s skull and ricocheting from Blaize’s hand.  As the man collapsed, Blaize turned to face the other two.  One of them was already upon him.  Blaize dropped to his knee as the man’s sword whistled over his head.  Blaize then jumped up catching the man’s wrist with his left hand.  The man tried to break free of Blaize’s grip but could not.  Blaize held on tightly as the man swung around behind him and tried to choke him.  Blaize threw his head backwards, smashing the man’s face.  The man let go of his sword and stumbled backwards bringing his hands up to his bloodied face.  Blaize snatched the sword as it fell and spun around quickly finishing the man off.

Blaize then turned to face the third man.  He had been standing back watching but now was ready to fight.  He drew his sword and eyed Blaize warily as he slowly moved towards him.  Blaize held tightly to the hilt of the blade and kept it between him and the third man.  The man suddenly sprang into action slashing furiously at Blaize.  Blaize deflected the first stroke but the second glanced off his sword and nicked his right shoulder.  Grimacing with pain, Blaize took the offensive and slashed back at the ruffian.  Both swords clashed together in a rain of sparks.  Blaize kept slashing with the remainder of his strength and slowly had the man backed against the wall.  Rearing back, Blaize swung his sword as hard as he could against his opponent’s blade shattering it.  Before Blaize could strike again, the man drove the jagged remains of his sword into Blaize’s thigh.  Blaize screamed in pain as his sword delivered a death blow to the man.

Trying to catch his breath and remain standing, Blaize turned towards the door and braced himself for the next attack.  He was met, however, only by the silent night.  The only sound Blaize could make out in the stillness was his own labored breathing and rapidly beating heart.  He could hardly believe that the attack was finally over.  The tranquil silence and cool air blowing through the room seemed surreal after the heat of the battle.  It almost seemed too quiet.  The silence was broken by a dull thud behind him.  Spinning around he found Sherrial’s lifeless body lying on the floor of the back room with a dagger in her heart.  Behind her stood a window yawning open to the darkness of night.  Stumbling to the window Blaize stared out into the empty night and screamed.

“NO! NOOOOO!”  Blaize searched the darkness but all was still.  As he turned haggardly from the window, he saw nothing in the room but the lifeless body of his love lying in a pool of fresh blood.  She had been his reason for living.  She had been the passion that kept him going.  She had been his happiness and his life.  Blaize slumped to the ground not having the strength to stay on his feet any longer.  He dragged himself along the floor of the room using his left arm as his right dangled uselessly at his side.  When he reached Sherrial’s body, he gently pulled the crooked dagger from her chest and stared numbly at it and the letter scratched into its hilt before letting it fall.  He then gently cradled her angelic head in the crook of his arm.  Lying down next to her, the blood from his wounds mixing with her blood, Blaize did something he had not done since he was a small child; he cried.

* * * * *

As Blaize finished his story, Traven could see tears in the magnificent warrior’s eyes.  He didn’t know what to say so he kept silent.  Blaize stood up and walked away from the fire and out into the night.  Traven watched in silence until Blaize was out of sight.  He then woefully added some more wood to the fire before lying down for the night.  With the solid ground beneath him he stared up at the stars.  They didn’t seem as bright as they had before.

14

Blaize was back to normal with the coming of morning.  He had gotten up early, kicked Traven awake, and sent him to go through his old exercises one more time.  By the time the sun was up, they were on the road headed for Calyn.  The weather was beginning to turn colder, and Traven wrapped himself up tightly in his cloak.  The weather did not seem to affect Blaize at all however.  Most of the few trees that Traven could see from the road were already beginning to lose their leaves.  Blaize said it looked like winter was going to come early this year but that they would easily be in Calyn before the first grassland blizzards came.  Traven sure hoped that Blaize was right.  It would be awful to be stuck out in a blizzard.  As the sun climbed toward the horizon, the day warmed up allowing Traven to put his cloak away.  By the time they stopped at midday, he was full of excitement.  Blaize had promised to teach him new exercises.  This would be the final set of exercises that Blaize would be able to teach him before they parted in Calyn.

“Are you ready to learn some new exercises?” Blaize asked.

“You know I am,” Traven replied.  “Let’s get on with it already.”

“Okay, since this is going to be the last set that I teach you, I’m going to teach you some things that are going to take you a lot longer to master than your previous exercises.  I’m also going to have you divide your routine into three different sets instead of just two.  You’ll start off with your agility exercises as usual, but then you will spend time on free combat before practicing with your sword.  Free combat is fighting with your bare hands.”

“Why don’t you just call it weaponless combat,” Traven interrupted.

“Because that’s not what it is.  I call it free combat instead of weaponless combat because it is not weaponless.  Your hands, your feet, your whole body becomes the weapon.  The body is the greatest weapon of all.  When you use a sword or any other crafted weapon, you are using it in conjunction with your body.  A blade is not a weapon until your body turns it into one.  A blade is merely a tool that your body uses to increase its own capabilities as a weapon.  A blade without a body to wield it is not a weapon, but a body without a blade to wield is still a weapon.  Do you understand?”  Traven nodded in affirmation.  He had never thought about it like that before, but it was definitely true.  “Now that we have that out of the way, I’ll show you your new exercises.”

To start off with, Blaize told him that he would basically be doing the same agility exercises but would need to increase their difficulty a little by sprinting instead of jogging and by jumping as high as he possibly could when diving and kicking into the air.  Traven would also need to double the amount of push-ups and sit-ups that he was already doing.  He would only be doing all of these exercises through once to leave enough time for him to add his free combat exercises.  This didn’t sound all that bad until he learned that many of the free combat exercises were merely extensions of the agility and endurance exercises that he would also be doing.  He had thought he would get a break from all of the boring exercises but unfortunately learned that now he would just be doing them twice.

His free combat exercises were, however, a little more interesting than the basic exercises, because now he was punching and kicking and could imagine that he was fighting someone.  The first exercise was merely to practice punching and blocking with his hands, doing it both with his fists and with his hands opened.  He then would practice kicking and blocking with both legs.  After that he would do his diving rolls but would come out of them in a fighting stance that Blaize showed him and immediately throw two punches before kicking strongly straight up in front of him.  He then would practice doing various types of kicks while jumping up in the air.  He would finally work on a combination of attacks and blocks that included dropping to the ground and spinning his leg around to trip an opponent.  By the time he had gone through each of the exercises he was breathing hard, and he hadn’t even done any of his regular exercises like he would be doing in his new routine.  Blaize told him to run through the free combat exercises again, and then they ate lunch and got back on the road.  Blaize said he would teach him the new sword exercises when they stopped for the night.

Traven spent the rest of the day resting upon his steed as he plodded down the road.  He was looking forward to learning the new sword exercises but knew that he was going to be sore for the next few days until he got used to all of the new exercises.  As the sun headed toward the horizon, a stiff breeze picked up.  It was cool enough that Traven had to pull his cloak back out and put it on.  They stopped with the setting of the sun and set up camp a little ways from the road.  Traven soon had a warm fire blazing and was able to shed his cloak.  After eating some dried meat, biscuits, and cheese, Blaize let out a belch and got up from the fire.

“Time to learn the new sword exercises Traven.”  Traven got up to follow and grabbed his cloak.  “Leave your cloak here.  As soon as you start your exercises you’ll just take it off.  Besides, you need to build up your cold weather endurance.”  Traven tossed the cloak back down with a sigh and followed Blaize out into the twilight.  As soon as he was away from the warmth of the fire, goose bumps broke out all over his skin as the chilling breeze made its way across the grasslands.

Under the light of the moon, Blaize drew one of his swords and began to show Traven his new routines.  Traven had expected them to be a bunch of small patterns to work on as they had been before, but he was surprised to find that this routine was definitely different than the others.  While the others had been many different exercises, the new routine was a single exercise that flowed smoothly from one type of pattern to another.  As Blaize demonstrated the new routine, Traven realized how similar this was to what Blaize himself did every day.  It was simpler of course and used only one blade but had the basic look of what Blaize practiced.  When Blaize finished going all the way through the pattern once, he broke it down into smaller parts so that Traven would be able to remember it.

The pattern began in a motionless stance with the sword held pointing up, slightly forward and off to the side.  From there, Blaize suddenly swiped his blade forward in a short arc.  After doing several more slashes, he took a defensive stance and parried imaginary slashes.  He then counter attacked.  He stopped to make sure that Traven understood all of it and then began the second part of the routine.  While the first part had been slashes, the second was all spinning and whirling as the blade cleared a wide path through imaginary enemies.  Traven concentrated on the turns and the whirling of the blade but still had to ask Blaize to show it to him a little slower so that he could get all of it.  The third part was diving and rolling, jumping back up to slash and block, and then repeating it several times using different sword patterns.  Traven only needed to see that part once because it so closely resembled earlier exercises.  The fourth part looked much harder.  It consisted of much of the whirling from earlier but added slashing leaps, rolls that ended in piercing thrusts, and weaving intricate patterns in front while leaping back and forth from one foot to the other.

The fifth and final part of the routine looked even more difficult than any of the rest.  It seemed to combine everything else into one furious attack.  It started out with a roll that turned into a whirling pattern upon regaining your feet.  The whirling pattern became even more intricate as Blaize leaped into the air in a hard kick without the blade ever slowing.  Upon landing he ducked, swiped for imaginary legs, and jumped back up to make multiple quick slashes.  It was then another diving roll in another direction and stabbing thrusts followed by more slashing.  The fifth part continued for several more minutes as Traven tried desperately to take it all in.  When Blaize finally finished, Traven had him go through it more slowly.  After that he still needed Blaize to show him a few parts before he figured out what he was supposed to do.  After assuring Blaize that he remembered everything, they headed back to the camp.  Traven welcomed the warmth of the fire while Blaize stayed back for a while letting the swift wind help to cool his body after the strenuous routines.

“If you get all of these routines down perfect before we reach Calyn, we’ll have a practice fight so you’ll see what it’s like actually facing somebody else that’s good with a sword,” Blaize said walking over next to the fire.

“You mean I’m going to practice against you?  I think that would be pretty one sided,” Traven asserted as he thought about it.  “Maybe we could find someone else for me to practice against besides you.”

“Oh brother,” Blaize said as he rolled his eyes.  “It’s not like I’m going to try to kill you Traven.  I just want to give you some practice.”

“More likely you want to give me another lesson in humility,” Traven said eyeing Blaize and thinking about the last time he had tried to fight him.

“Well that too probably,” Blaize said chuckling.  “But don’t worry about it yet.  First you have to get all of your new exercises down.  Then you can start worrying about fighting me.”

Traven just shook his head as he stretched out for the night pulling his cloak over himself.  It would be interesting to face Blaize again.  This time maybe he could hold out for a minute or two. Blaize was right though.  He needed to concentrate on his new difficult routines before Blaize would let him fight him.  It was going to take a while to get them all down, but he was determined to have them down as close to perfect as he could before they reached Calyn so that he could practice fighting against Blaize.  Then he would be able to see how much all of his hard work had really paid off.

Traven arose early the next morning and started on his new exercises.  By the time he was done with the agility, endurance, and free combat exercises, he did not feel like doing any blade work but knew he had to.  He decided to concentrate on getting the first two parts of the routine down.  By the end of the day he had the first two parts down well enough that he decided the next morning he could move on to work on the third and fourth parts of his blade routine.  By the third day, he had the third and fourth parts down and was able to combine them with the first two.  On the fourth day he tried doing the fifth part but could not remember it all, and he had to have Blaize show it to him again.  It took him an extra day to get the fifth part down, but by the sixth day he was doing the whole routine from beginning to end.  It still didn’t flow smoothly like it had for Blaize, but everyday Traven got better.  At first, all of the exercises and the blade routines left him exhausted and sore, but by about the seventh day it was no longer such an intense struggle to get through all of them, and he still had energy left to do other things.

On the seventh day of his new routine, the landscape began to change.  The side of the river that they were traveling on stayed the same but the land north of the river turned into marshland.  Blaize told Traven that they were on the outskirts of the southeastern part of the Black Marsh.  He said that the marsh covered a large area of land from where they were all the way to the coast and extended north about a four days journey.  At the same time as the marsh appeared to the north, farming communities began to appear to the south of the road.  The farmers had huge fields that extended as far as the eye could see.  Traven was surprised by the sizes of the fields but understood why when Blaize explained that it took a lot of grain to feed a city as large as Calyn.  Other travelers soon began to dot the road.  Traven was glad to see signs of civilization once again.  There were not any inns in the farming communities, but it was nice to be able to sleep in a barn and buy some fresh food.  As they got closer to the city, Traven also spotted several cattle ranches off in the distance.  By the eighth day, there were no more breaks in between farming communities.  The communities had been getting more frequent and now ran into one another.  Blaize said that it was like that all the way to the city.  Traven grew more and more excited each day as they traveled closer to the great city of Calyn.  By the time the sun began to set at the end of the eighth day, Blaize said they would reach Calyn sometime the next morning if they got an early start.

“Yep, we’ll finally be there in the morning,” Blaize said with a smile.  “It will be nice to sleep in a bed once again and have someone to talk to beside your sorry self.”  Traven pulled a face at Blaize and followed him as he turned off the main road and headed south along a country road.  They continued on down the road, not stopping at any of the farmhouses they passed.

“Aren’t we going to stop at one of these houses?”

“No, we’ll camp out under the stars one more time before we get to the city, for old time’s sake.”  Blaize tried to hold in a smile but without success.

“Alright, where are we really going?  What are you smiling about?”

“Oh we’re really going to sleep out under the stars tonight but not for old time’s sake.  You’re not perfect with your new routines yet, but you’re almost there.  Tonight, practice hard and sleep well.  We’re going away from the main road so that in the morning we can fight each other in solitude.”

Traven’s eyes lit up.  He hadn’t been sure if Blaize was actually going to let him fight him.  Blaize hadn’t said anything about it since the first time he had mentioned it, and Blaize wouldn’t answer him when he had asked about it.  When they were finally beyond all of the sprawling farms, Blaize led them out into the grasslands for a while before finally stopping to set up camp.  He sent Traven out to practice while he got dinner ready.  Traven concentrated and practiced very hard.  The routine was beginning to get easier, and he was able to do it with less and less thought every time he exercised.  It would be interesting to fight Blaize in the morning.  This time he would hopefully be somewhat of a challenge since Blaize was not going to be fighting his hardest.  Upon returning to camp, Traven ate and went right to bed.  Blaize said that he wanted to have the camp broken very early so they could fight and be ready to leave with the rising of the sun.  Traven tried to fall asleep quickly but was too excited and nervous.  After staring at the stars for what seemed like hours, he finally drifted off into a sleep filled with dreams of battle and victory.

Traven woke up with the land still shrouded in darkness.  He glanced across the dying embers of the fire and saw that Blaize was still asleep.  He tried to go back to sleep but could not.  Traven had no idea how far away dawn was, so wrapping himself tightly in his cloak against the cold he settled down to wait for Blaize to wake up and announce that it was time to get up.  Traven was pleasantly surprised when after only a few minutes Blaize suddenly stood up and headed around the fire towards him.  Traven quickly jumped up before Blaize had a chance to kick him awake.  Blaize just smiled and began to break camp.  Traven joined in and by the time the sky began to lighten, everything was loaded on the horses and ready to go.

Blaize took a long, round bundle from off of Flame.  He then led Traven out onto a stretch of level ground and turned to face him.

“Are you ready Traven?” he asked with a smile as he set the bundle down.

“I guess so,” Traven answered hesitantly as he began to draw his sword.  “Let’s get this over with.”  Blaize looked at him strangely for several moments and then started laughing as he shook his head.

“Traven, what are you going to do with that sword?”  When Traven just stared back with a confused look on his face, Blaize uncovered the bundle that he had brought along.  Underneath the cloth were two tightly wrapped bundles of reeds shaped to resemble swords.  Traven felt incredibly foolish when he realized why Blaize was laughing.  They were not going to fight using real swords; they were going to use reed swords.  “I forgot that you’ve never done any of this before Traven.  When we practice against one another, we don’t want someone to end up dead, so we use these reeds in place of our swords.  Now don’t think that these won’t hurt if you get hit by them because they will.  These will leave welts and bruises, but at least you’ll still be alive if you get struck.”

Traven nodded his head in understanding and laid his sword off to the side next to Blaize’s two blades.  He snatched the reed sword out of the air and swung it around with his hand when Blaize tossed it at him.  To his surprise, he found that the practice sword was fairly close to the weight and balance of a regular sword.  He swung it around a few more times to get used to it and then turned back around to face Blaize.  Blaize was standing motionless about ten feet away with his practice sword poised in front of him.  When he just stared back at him, Traven took up the same position and waited to see what Blaize would do.  They both stood in silence for several moments staring at each other wondering who would make the first move.

Suddenly Blaize burst into action as he lunged toward Traven with his sword outstretched.  Traven immediately brought his sword down to block Blaize’s thrust.  The two swords crashed into one another with a loud crack.  Blaize continued his attack with several more slashes.  Traven moved his sword quickly to block all of the lightning quick slashes but was too slow to block the last slash and ended up being smacked in the ribs by Blaize’s sword.  He gasped and jumped backwards away from Blaize.  Blaize followed and this time attacked with his blade whirling.  Traven blocked it and ducked to avoid being hit in the head.  He then dove to the side and came up out of the roll several yards away in a crouched defensive position.  No sooner had he set himself than Blaize was back on him.  After blocking several more slashes, Traven missed one and received a welt on his thigh.  He braced himself to be struck again, but luckily Blaize backed away.

“Traven, you’re thinking too hard.  Every time I come at you, you tense up and concentrate all of your strength on trying to block my slashes.  Don’t think so hard.”  Traven stared back at Blaize as he rubbed his thigh.  “You don’t need to think about blocking me.  You’ve been practicing blocks and already know them.  Just follow your instincts.  Don’t get me wrong.  You have to pay attention to what I’m doing, but you need to forget yourself and concentrate on the blades and striking me.  There are signs that my body gives off allowing you to know what I’m going to do.  When my muscles contract certain ways I am preparing to swing the sword a certain way.  You don’t have time to sit and figure it out, but your subconscious will in time learn to recognize every slight movement that I make.  Trust your instincts.  There’s a reason why they tell you to do certain things.  Stay calm and relaxed.  Don’t think so much, just do.”

Traven understood what Blaize was telling him, but it was one thing to understand what he was saying and another thing to actually be able to do it.  He wanted to not worry about everything and just trust his instincts, but whenever Blaize attacked he couldn’t seem to stay calm and relaxed.  All that he thought about was how much it was going to hurt when Blaize finally hit him.  Blaize backed up and took the same position that he had started from earlier.  Traven took a deep breath and assumed the same position.  He had held off Blaize for a little bit.  Maybe he actually could do okay if he just did what felt natural and stayed relaxed.  All he had to do was stay calm and trust in his instincts.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.  Traven’s thoughts were interrupted as Blaize suddenly rushed him again.

Without thinking, Traven moved his sword down quickly to block Blaize’s thrust and jumped to the side to avoid a slash.  Blaize then attacked him from several different angles.  All were stopped as they cracked with a loud burst each time the two swords met.  Blaize then took a swipe at his head.  He instinctively dropped into a diving role and came back up several yards away.  This really isn’t that bad, Traven thought as his tension and muscles relaxed.  He spun his sword around with a smile and went on the offensive.  He struck at Blaize with sharp, quick thrusts that Blaize easily parried.  Traven then began to slash back and forth.  Blaize dodged the blade and counterattacked.  Traven was suddenly on the defensive again but was easily able to deflect all of Blaize’s strikes.  He then began to use the whirling patterns that he had been practicing.

The sword fight immediately turned into a blur of whirling swords that clacked against each other almost constantly.  All sound disappeared to Traven, however, as he shut out everything but Blaize and his sword.  He pressed harder and harder into Blaize’s defense.  Traven flowed through the forms so easily that it felt as if he was merely following preset patterns that were already swirling around him.  Blaize suddenly began to attack once again, and Traven found himself on the defensive.  His sword continued to whirl through the swirling air, stopping Blaize’s advance.  Almost without noticing, Traven found himself back on the offensive.  He became lost in the dance of blades not feeling his own exhaustion or the increased warmth that was emanating from the stone against his chest.  Abruptly he felt a change in the whirling patterns.  Blaize’s sword began to crack harder and faster against his.  He quickened his own forms to match Blaize’s, and the whirling dance was once again in harmony.  Traven changed back and forth from attacking to blocking many times without even realizing it.  Suddenly after a particularly fierce attack, Blaize dropped to the ground and rolled past Traven, coming up behind him.  Traven spun with his sword already in the right position to block Blaize’s coming thrust.  The two swords cracked and the whirling of blades resumed.  Blaize again suddenly dove to roll past Traven, but in the middle of his roll his sword flew out from his compressed form.  Before Traven could bring his sword down to block, Blaize slashed his legs out from under him.

Traven fell crashing to the ground with his practice sword flying from his hand in surprise.  Lying on his back he immediately felt Blaize’s practice blade pressed against his throat.  Looking up he saw Blaize standing over him.  Sweat was dripping from Blaize’s red face, and he was breathing heavily.  Blaize’s determined visage changed to a smile as he pulled the sword back from Traven’s throat and helped pull him to his feet.  As Traven rose, he realized how tired and hungry he was.  He cringed as he rubbed the back of his legs where Blaize’s practice sword had crashed into him.  He then wiped the dripping sweat from his brow as he tried to catch his breath.  A cool breeze suddenly rose across the grasslands chilling him.  He realized that his whole body was drenched in sweat.  How long had they been fighting?  Traven glanced over at the horizon and found the sun already climbing into the morning sky.  They must have been fighting longer than he had thought.  He could hardly believe that he had lasted so long against Blaize.  He had definitely lasted longer than the first time they had fought.  Of course Blaize hadn’t been fighting his hardest, but it was still nice to know that all of his training was beginning to pay off.

“You did well Traven,” Blaize said as they picked up their blades and sheathed them.  He also took the two practice blades and bundled them back up.  “If you keep doing the exercises I showed you every morning, you’ll become a top swordsman in no time.”

“Thanks for saying that Blaize, but I know that I still have a ways to go.”  Blaize just smiled as he put the bundle of practice swords back in place and mounted Flame.

“It’s true that you have a ways to go, but remember that when we met you had barely even picked up a sword before.  That was a pretty good work out.”  Blaize stretched out his arms as Traven mounted Pennon, and they started towards the highway.  “We better hurry up.  We’re getting a later start than I wanted.”

Traven nudged Pennon into a gallop as he raced after Blaize.  They were soon pounding down the country road that led to the main highway.  Pennon wanted to run faster, and Traven let him.  They were soon past Blaize and Flame with farmhouses and fields blurring at their sides.  Traven loved riding when Pennon ran flat out.  Pennon was undoubtedly fast.  It made him feel as if he was almost flying when he was atop the swift horse.  He smiled deeply feeling the rush of the cool morning air against his face.  Blaize had actually complimented him on his sword fighting and in a few hours he would finally be in Calyn.  He had always dreamed of seeing Calyn; especially since he had first read The Wanderings of Gelan.  Now, at last, he was finally going to see the magnificent capital of Kalia.  He let out a delighted laugh and urged his mighty horse to run even faster.

* * * * *

Blaize smiled as Traven flew past him and down the road with his cloak flapping wildly behind him.  Blaize urged Flame to go a little faster so that they wouldn’t get too far behind the young man and his lively horse.  Soon he would be in Calyn once again.  It had been a while since he had been there and even longer since he had been a soldier in an army.  It would be fun to be surrounded by other fighting men for a while.  He would also enjoy the comfort of a warm barracks during the winter.  Maybe he would even end up marching for the borders of Balthus to quell the ragtag army being raised there.

Blaize’s smile then left his face as he thought some more about what had just happened.  He didn’t understand what had happened during the practice fight and it was troubling him.  At first, Traven had been fighting like the newcomer to sword fighting that he was.  Then he had begun to fight like a veteran.  Blaize had been pleased at how well Traven was doing but was shocked when he began to fight harder and still couldn’t strike Traven.  He had begun to fight with all his strength, and he still could not gain any advantage over the young man until he finally pulled a difficult trick to end the fight.  He couldn’t believe that Traven had been able to withstand his attacks.  He knew he could have ended the fight faster if he had been using two blades like he was accustomed to, but the point remained that the boy had withstood him.  The young man had seemed as though he was almost in a trance as he stopped all of Blaize’s advances and then attacked back just as fiercely.

He didn’t know what to think of it.  He was unquestionably excited for Traven.  He was very proud of the young man he had taught, but nobody should be able to become that good so fast.  Traven was definitely an extraordinary young man.  While he was fighting the boy, he could almost swear that the stone Traven always wore had been glowing brightly under his shirt.  Blaize wasn’t sure what had happened during the fight.  However, he was sure of one thing as he watched the back of Traven far ahead; there was something very special about the young man.

15

Wraith glanced back at the burning houses of the small farming community.  He had thought about bringing a few of the thieves that he had gathered but had decided against it.  He liked working alone better anyway.  He could move much faster and quieter by himself.  The bandits that he was leaving behind would continue to make trouble until the royal army came and disposed of them.  Meanwhile Wraith had more important matters to take care of.  He had wasted too much time in the last few farming communities and was sure that the two men would reach Calyn before he caught up to them.  He cursed himself for not catching up to them sooner, but they had been moving quite fast and had left a day before him.  Besides, it really didn’t matter.  He would have fun roaming the largest city of Kalia in search of the young man.  He had never been to Calyn and it would be interesting to see.

It would take a while to find the young man, but Wraith was a patient man and would find him in due time.  He would keep an eye on his seeker stone and have fun with the unsuspecting inhabitants of Calyn while he waited for it to change from black to red.  He grinned as he thought of it.  While he waited for the stone to turn from black to red, he would turn the black of the night into the rich red of blood.  Wraith let out a soft but malevolent laugh as he poked his horse with his boots and headed down the road toward Calyn.

* * * * *

Kadrak glanced up from his desk as the flap to his tent opened letting in the cold air from outside.  One of his servants set a plate of food down next to him and then left.  Kadrak pushed the plate of steaming food off to the side.  It brought to mind yet another problem facing the camp.  Kadrak’s army had grown much larger than he had expected and the food supply was almost all the way gone.  He never imagined the amount of men that would flock to him.  With such a great number, they were becoming a big problem.  Fights were breaking out every day in the camp and many were complaining for want of more food.  Kadrak hadn’t planned to move the army into action until a few weeks later but knew that if he didn’t act now the army would begin to fall apart.  Besides, it looked as though winter might make an early entrance this year, and he wanted to be in Beking when it did.

It wasn’t like there was anything else to wait around for anyway.  Shadow had returned last night, earlier than Kadrak had expected him, but then Shadow always took care of his tasks quickly.  Kadrak smiled as he thought of the four poles that were driven into the hard ground in front of his tent.  Atop each sat the head of one who used to be a wielder.  Shadow had accomplished his tasks precisely, bringing back all four heads of those who had the unfortunate blessing of being able to manipulate the ambiance.  He knew they disturbed some of the men in his camp, but they served to show that Kadrak was ruthless and ever victorious.  His smile grew larger as he thought of the time when Shaman Azulk’s head would also be displayed on a pole.  Almost everything was going as he had planned.

The only thing that concerned him was the disturbance in Kalia.  The concentrated haze in Kalia had moved from the east of Kalia to the west.  Every time Kadrak had screed into Kalia over the last few weeks the haze had been further west.  Apparently whatever was stopping him from looking upon certain areas was in the hands of someone.  He was not worried about it however.  It was probably just a merchant or traveler who had stumbled upon a rare looking stone or piece of jewelry and had decided to take it with them.  Wraith would take care of the problem and bring him back another artifact to add to his collection.  Whoever had it was now either in Calyn or one of the communities around the large city.  Hopefully Wraith would take care of it quickly and return with the artifact while Kadrak’s army was still in Beking.  His thoughts were interrupted as the door to the tent suddenly burst open and Gilrod came rushing into the room.

“Forgive me master,” Gilrod said as he bowed deeply in front of Kadrak’s desk, “But there is trouble in the camp.  Kulfor the Great is making a speech against your leadership.  With the shortage of food and the coming cold, many are actually listening to the foolish oaf.”  Kadrak stood up from his desk shaking his head.

“Take me to him Gilrod,” Kadrak commanded with a scowl.  “Kulfor has pushed me to my limit and is now going to pay for it.”

Gilrod rushed to open the tent flap for Kadrak.  As soon as they were out of the tent, the short, bony man led Kadrak through the jumbled maze of tents and cook fires that characterized the massive, disorderly camp.  Kadrak shook his head in disgust as he thought of Kulfor.  He should have gotten rid of the man a long time ago.  Kulfor had been a legend among many of the bandits, and Kadrak had made him one of the generals of his army.  Kulfor was a natural leader, and Kadrak had known he would be helpful in leading the army to battle.  Kulfor also, unfortunately, didn’t like to take orders from anyone but himself.  Kulfor had questioned his commands before, and Kadrak had heard rumors that he was secretly trying to gain control of the whole army.  Not until now, however, had the mighty man been so open in his treason.  Now he would learn what happened to those who crossed the mighty Wielder Kadrak.

Gilrod kept up a steady pace in front of Kadrak as they made their way to the east end of the camp.  Gilrod was Kadrak’s other general.  The man was only middle aged but already was almost devoid of hair.  He was devious and ambitious, but he was loyal to Kadrak.  He also headed a small spy network that he had offered up to Kadrak.  Gilrod suddenly pulled up as they emerged just outside the eastern edge of the camp.  A massive crowd of people stood outside the camp in a large clearing, listening intently to Kulfor.  Kulfor stood atop a large boulder that appeared out of place in the large clearing.  On either side of Kulfor stood several of his elite bandits that had pillaged with him before they had come to join the army.  They were all large, grizzly men, but they looked small standing next to Kulfor.  The man was a giant!  He stood a head taller than any man Kadrak had ever seen and was as wide as several men put together.  Beneath all of his extra fat were muscles of steel.  No one had noticed their arrival, so Kadrak pulled Gilrod back into the shadow of a tent and listened to what the huge man was spouting off to the roiled crowd.

“. . . not how I want to live.  Why do we sit here starving?  Is it because there isn’t enough food?” Kulfor asked the crowd.  “No!  It’s because that weakling Kadrak doesn’t care about you and is hoarding it up for himself.  Why are we just sitting around doing nothing when we could be ravaging towns and cities?  Is it because we are too weak?  No! It is because our leader Kadrak is too weak.  I am not too weak.  I am strong.  We will dispose of Kadrak, and I will lead you.  We will sweep across the land taking everything we want, satisfying our pleasures, and destroying everything else.  Why wait for Kadrak to be ready?  We’re ready.  Let’s do it now!”

As Kulfor finished his speech, the crowd erupted with cheers as men shook their fists in the air in support of Kulfor.  Kadrak could not believe the man’s audacity.  He couldn’t believe the man would spout off such words right outside the camp.  He must have known that Kadrak would find out about it.  Kulfor was too smug for his own good.  The pompous idiot would know of his mistake soon enough.  Kadrak cracked his knuckles, calmed himself, and stepped out from the shadows.  The crowd was so involved with their shouting and cheering for Kulfor that they did not even notice as Kadrak and Gilrod made their way to the back of the crowd.  Kadrak was tired of this stupidity and was going to put an end to it.  He glanced up at the cloudless sky above the crowd and suddenly there was an earsplitting boom.  The crowd grew quiet as they looked around startled.

“Kulfor!” Kadrak said loud enough for the large man to hear from across the massive crowd.  All heads turned to find the source of the name.  As recognition filled their eyes, many of the bandits began to slip away from the crowd.  The rest of them split away to leave aclear space between Kadrak and Kulfor.  “What do you think you are doing?”

“Your cheap magic tricks aren’t going to scare me,” Kulfor announced from his perch atop the massive boulder.  “Your reign as the leader of this army is over.  You don’t deserve your position, and I’m taking it away.”

Kadrak stood in amazement at Kulfor’s words.  He had never thought that the man was stupid enough to actually confront him in person.  Kadrak was not sure if Kulfor was bluffing or if he seriously thought that he could do something to stop him from staying in command.  Behind Kadrak the edge of the camp was quickly filling up as other bandits swarmed to see the showdown.  The men between Kulfor and Kadrak backed away even more, leaving a huge open space.  Kulfor’s elite stayed at his side as he stood defiantly on the boulder.  Gilrod pulled his bony form up to its fullest height as he stood with Kadrak.

“Kulfor, I had no idea you wanted to die so soon,” Kadrak began.  “I had always thought that you, most of all, valued your own life, but now I see . . .”

“It’s you who has met his end Kadrak,” Kulfor threw in with a sneer as he interrupted Kadrak.  Kadrak immediately spun around with his arms stretched forth as two men came flying out of the crowd with curved daggers raised.  Lightning leapt from Kadrak’s hands, searing the two would be killers before they even got near him.  Kadrak smiled as the two daggers hit the ground well short of him after flying from the two burnt corpses.  He turned back away from the stunned crowd to glare at the wide eyed Kulfor.

“Kulfor, you gutless scum!  You ooze villainy, and unfortunately I’m going to have to dispose of you quickly.”  Kulfor and his elite bandits paused with their swords only half bared as a huge ball of spinning fire began to grow over their heads.  Kadrak smiled as his ball of molten fire grew larger and larger.  As Kulfor’s men began scrambling away from him, trying to get off the boulder, Kadrak let the ball drop.  A huge explosion reverberated through the silent camp as flames splashed out in every direction in a blinding flash of light.  The crowd shielded their eyes and bodies, many dropping to the ground as a shockwave of heat blasted outward.  Kadrak merely leaned down and whispered orders to Gilrod.  With that taken care of, he turned around and sauntered back towards his tent.

* * * * *

Gilrod watched Kadrak as he made his way past the stunned masses at the edge of the camp and disappeared from sight.  Gilrod then turned to fully take in what Kadrak had done.  Gilrod stared in amazement at the large, blackened crater that now gaped from the area where the large boulder had been.  No trace of the boulder or Kulfor and his elite bandits was left.  Gilrod had heard of Kadrak’s magnificent power but had never seen it displayed until now.  He had never really believed in the massive power of the ambience.  He had first thought that the ambience was merely the imaginings of a storyteller.  Upon meeting Kadrak he had learned that it was actually real but had only assumed it was a tool for making small bangs and lighting candles from far away.  Now he knew first hand of the power that Kadrak actually possessed.  Gilrod was pleased with his decision to follow Kadrak.  With Kadrak as its leader, there was no way that the army would fall.

After staring at the crater for several moments, Gilrod hastened to fulfill Kadrak’s wishes.  He walked toward the blackened crater and turned to face the mass of bandits upon reaching its lip.  He smiled as the hushed crowd turned their widened eyes from the crater to him in anticipation.  He loved being the center of attention but knew when to hide behind someone greater.  That was where Kulfor had failed and he had succeeded.  When Kadrak became Emperor over all the land, Gilrod would be given a position of great power for his loyalty and would have many more chances to shine.  After dragging out the silence for a little while, Gilrod cleared his throat and delivered his master’s message.

“Our great leader Kadrak knows of our wants and wishes.  For a wise purpose he has held us back this long.  But he is now ready to move into action as he has displayed so openly and dramatically this evening.”  Gilrod paused to let what he had said sink in.  The crowd began to buzz with excitement as they realized what he was saying.  Gilrod began anew with the crowd hanging on his every word.  “Kadrak has asked me to announce that we will sweep down upon Beking as we start our massive campaign to bring the world to its knees.  Our waiting is over.  We move at dawn!”  A deafening roar rose from the bandit army at the long awaited announcement.  He beamed as the sound of cheering and yelling grew louder and louder.  The men were ready and anxious to fight; just the way Gilrod and Kadrak wanted them.

* * * * *

Kadrak smiled from inside his tent as the silent camp suddenly came alive with cheering and yelling from its eastern side.  Kadrak felt the excitement from the army wash into him as he fell back onto his bed exhausted.  Gilrod must have taken his time as usual in delivering the speech or the cheers would have started before Kadrak had even made it to his tent.  Gilrod did have a way with words.  Kadrak was glad for the man’s loyalty and the intelligence he brought with him for Kadrak’s using.  He wished he had been able to give the announcement, but his day had been long and he was too weak after his display of power.  He had not wanted the display of power to be ruined if he appeared shaky and weak while delivering the speech.  Oh well, he was sure Gilrod had delivered it nicely.  He closed his eyes and let his breathing slow to match his heartbeat.

It was just beginning to get dark, but he was tired.  Forming the flaming ball of molten fire had taken a lot of his strength.  He could have finished Kulfor and his elite bandits off much easier but had used the molten fireball to make a statement.  Hopefully no one else in the camp would so much as think of crossing him after the mighty display of power.  Kadrak began to drift off to sleep in satisfaction.  He no longer needed to worry about rebellion and the diminishing food supply.  In the morning his massive army would be on the move at last.  All of the waiting and anticipation was finally over.  In just over a week his army would bring Beking to its knees and plunder it.  They would then set up camp in the city and have plenty of food and shelter for the cold winter that was fast approaching.  He finally fell asleep.  He dreamed once again of himself sitting on the throne of Calyn with the High King’s crown pulsating atop his head.  The crown would once again be worn by a wielder.  Beking would fall first as the whole world trembled in fear of what was to come.  The pulsating crown disappeared, and Kadrak was filled with dreams of spending the long and cold winter living luxuriously in the Beking Palace.

* * * * *

Shaman Azulk shielded his eyes from the harsh light of the morning sun with his bony hand as he glanced down from the mountains at the massive human army.  The giant camp had been packed up earlier in the morning.  Kadrak had at last mobilized the army full of pathetic humans.  The shaman grinned showing his crooked yellow teeth as he watched the army begin its journey south towards where the human city of Beking rested.  The first part of his plan was finally beginning.  It would still be a while before the human army accomplished its goal, but Shaman Azulk had been waiting for this moment all of his life and could easily wait another year or two for the army to wreak its destruction.  Shaman Azulk took one last look at the human army and walked back into the cave and darkness that he had emerged from earlier in the morning.  He let out a low pleasure rumble in his throat.  When the human army was finally defeated, he and his Galdak army would be ready to sweep out of the mountains and end the pitiful existence of all the rest of the humans in the world; every single one.  He would then rule the Galdaks from atop the thrown of Calyn.  His dreams were most conclusive.  The crown of the High King would soon rest on his head.

Part Two: Learning

16

Traven slowed Pennon down when they reached the main highway and waited for Blaize to catch up.  The sun was barely clear of the horizon, but already the highway was teeming with people heading west towards Calyn.  Many looked to be farmers taking their produce to sell in the markets of Calyn.  Most were pulling carts laden with vegetables while some had full wagons of produce.  Blaize was soon back by Traven’s side, and they rode out onto the highway and joined with the flow of people headed towards the large city.  Most of the people were on foot, and Traven could easily see down the road over their heads.  He kept his eyes glued to where the highway met the horizon, eager for the first glimpse of the legendary city.  It had supposedly stood from even before Kalia came into existence.  It had withstood sieges and attacks several times and had never fallen.  He couldn’t wait to finally see the city.

“If you keep staring at the road ahead like that your eyes are going to be sore long before we reach Calyn,” Blaize said with a chuckle.  “We still have another hour or two before we reach it.”

Traven colored slightly and leaned back upright in his saddle.  He needed to remember to stay alert of what was going on around him instead of getting lost in his day dreams.  Blaize had taught him that a wary man stays alive.  When they arrived at Calyn, he would have more than enough time to stare at it.  He and Blaize talked on and off as they made their way towards Calyn, but Traven mostly just looked around at the different people traversing the highway and at all of the farms they passed.  As the sun continued to rise into the morning sky, a breeze blew in from the west, and he noticed a difference in the air.  It was fresh but seemed to smell salty.  He was confused and glanced over at Blaize who was taking in a deep breath of the salty smelling air.

“Doesn’t that smell good Traven?”

“Yes it does, but what is it?” Traven asked as he took a deep breath to match Blaize’s.

“It’s the ocean,” Blaize replied with a smile.  “We’ll be able to see Calyn soon.”

Traven glanced excitedly up the road with eagerness.  Several minutes later the road began to slope slightly upward, but there was still no sign of Calyn.  The air however began to smell more and more of what Blaize said was the ocean.  Traven was almost as eager to see such a massive body of water as he was the city.  The sun was warm on his back as he continued down the highway.  After a while, he noticed that the people in front of him were beginning to disappear down the other side of the rise in the land.  He glanced anxiously over to Blaize who smiled back at him with a nod of his head.  He then booted Pennon and quickly made his way past the people who were on foot to the top of the rise.  The view that met him when he reached the top of the rise took his breath away.

The land sloped slowly away before Traven allowing him to see the majestic city of Calyn all at once.  The vast ocean stretched out endlessly at its back.  The view stunned him.  He didn’t know whether to stare at the giant city or at the seemingly endless expanse of water.  He was still dumbfounded when Blaize arrived at his side.  Traven’s gaze finally focused on the ocean.  Behind the city the ocean seemed to go on forever.  He stared at it in awe. Never before had he seen so much water at once.  He had thought the Adrinavelle River was huge, but it seemed reduced to almost nothing as it fanned out and then emptied into the mighty ocean.  Traven’s gaze was quickly drawn back to the sprawling city that seemed to be crawling out of the ocean.  The city extended back from the very edge of the ocean far out onto the grasslands of Kalia.  What he noticed first were the towers that reached up far above the city walls, stretching into the early morning sky.  Next he noticed the walls that the towers seemed to dwarf.  They were made of pristine white stones and rose at least five stories into the air themselves.

“Come on Traven.  You can’t spend all day up here just staring at the city.  Let’s get going.”

“I haven’t even had a chance to see the palace,” he complained as he fell in step behind Blaize.  Soon the entire city was hidden by the high walls except for a few buildings and the unbelievably tall towers.

“What do you mean?” Blaize countered.  “Those four highest towers in the center of the city are part of the palace.”  Traven felt a little foolish since he could still see the towers, but he wished that he had been able to look at the rest of it.  “And don’t worry about it.  You’ll have plenty of time to see it up close when we get inside the city.”  As they continued on towards the city walls, Traven saw that the farms suddenly stopped, leaving a wide area of open grassland outside the walls of the city.

“How come there’s nothing between here and the city,” he asked Blaize.

“That’s for a couple of reasons,” Blaize began.  “First of all it keeps traffic orderly as it comes and goes from the city and second of all it allows for a better tactical advantage if the city is attacked.  An invading army has to bare itself in the open to the catapults and arrows of Calyn.”

Traven immediately saw what a good idea it was.  It took longer to make it to the city than he had thought it would.  The stretch of open grassland was a lot longer than it had looked from up on the rise.  As they rode closer to the walls of the city, he made a point to look down at the road like the other travelers were doing.  The sun bouncing off the white stones of the wall was so bright he feared if he stared at it very long he would go blind.  At last they reached the massive gate of the city and Traven looked up.  Since it was the only main gate in and out of the huge city, it was wide enough for numerous wagons to pass through at the same time.  It also towered far above their heads.  As they passed under the wall, Traven arched his head back and guessed that the gate itself must be several stories tall.  He also noticed how wide the walls were.  Passing through the gate was almost like passing through a tunnel as they were bathed in its shadow for several moments.

Coming out of the darkness and into the city, Traven once again stared in awe.  The main road remained as wide as the highway and cut straight through the heart of the city.  On either side of the road, tall buildings rose up against each other.  All of the buildings had white plastered walls, but each seemed to have a different color of slate on their rooftop.  The streets were packed with people, but Traven could easily see down the road.  Far ahead in the distance he could see what must have been the Grand Palace.  He could make out a massive building that the four huge towers reached out from.  Sun glinted off of the huge, golden dome that topped the palace.  Traven followed in awe as Blaize made his way through the throng of people.  When they reached a side street, Blaize turned and led him to a square where they could stop to talk without impeding traffic.  Blaize pulled up next to a fountain with two large statues of some fish that had fans around their necks and noses like swords.

“So what do you think of the city?” Blaize asked with a big smile.

“It’s amazing,” Traven blurted out immediately.  “I never imagined it would be so large and so beautiful.”  From what Traven had seen so far, the city was full of grand squares, beautifully elegant buildings, and an atmosphere of excitement.

“Yes,” Blaize answered, “Calyn is probably the most breathtaking city in the whole world.  Rankdra comes close and is grand in its own respect, but it just does not have the elegance of Calyn.  You think the city is wonderful already and you haven’t even seen the Grand Palace up close.  You’ll really be amazed when you get to the High King’s Square.  It’s full of statues and is bordered by the Grand Palace, the Royal Library, and several other impressive buildings.  The rest of the city is amazing as well.  All throughout the city there are squares with beautiful fountains like this one.  The docks are also interesting.  You can see people there from many different lands.  I’m sure you’ll like living in this city, but enough of that.  I don’t know about you, but after this morning I’m awfully hungry.  Let’s go get something to eat.  Down this street a ways there are several decent restaurants.”

Traven followed eagerly as Blaize made his way down the street.  In his excitement to reach Calyn he had forgotten how hungry he was and that he hadn’t eaten anything all day.  They turned off onto another side street that wasn’t nearly as busy as the two that they had previously been on.  Down the street there were several buildings that were three stories tall and had signs that were filled with pictures of food announcing restaurants’ names.  Blaize led him to one of them called The Plate of Plenty.  It had a picture of a large plate stacked high into the air with all kinds of food.  Blaize and Traven left their mounts with an attendant at the side of the restaurant and went in to quell their monstrous appetites.  The main room of the restaurant was not very full as it was past breakfast but still a little too early for lunch.  A waitress dressed in a bright green dress and a clean white apron led them to a booth in the corner of the restaurant and went to get them something to drink.

“You’ll love the food here Traven,” Blaize said with a large grin.  “It’s a bit on the expensive side, but it is sure worth it.  I figured I’d splurge on a really good meal before I start eating at the barrack’s mess.  Besides, we have a few extra coins from back in Four Bridges don’t we?” he said with a wink.

“I don’t care how good the food tastes Blaize.  I just want a lot of it.”  Blaize smiled as the waitress brought back two mugs of hot spiced cider.  Before she could ask what they would like to eat, Blaize ordered two of the chef’s special series and sent her away with a smile.  “What’s the chef’s special series?”

“You’ll find out when it gets here, but don’t worry, you’ll like it, and it will definitely fill you up.”  Traven took a drink of the spiced cider and set it down as he waited anxiously for the food to arrive.  The cider was really good, but he wanted something on his stomach before he drank the rest of it.  The waitress arrived much faster than he had expected with some appetizers.  They were strips of some clear, chewy meat covered in fried bread crumbs.  Blaize said the meat was from a sea animal that had many long, dangling arms and legs called a squid.  Traven was not sure if he believed him, but whatever it was, it was good.  Traven quickly finished his plate and drank some more of the cider.  He finished so fast that he had to wait awhile before the waitress returned again.  Blaize, on the other hand, ate slowly as Traven watched hungrily from across the table with his stomach growling.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waitress finally brought out two large platters heaped with steaming food.  He stared with wide eyes as she set the platter in front of him.  Blaize paid the waitress as Traven dug into the food.  The food was as delicious as Blaize had said it would be, and there was plenty of it.  There was beef covered in a spicy brown sauce, a lamb chop in a sweet red sauce, and several different kinds of fish in a tangy white sauce.  The platter was also heaped with vegetables smothered in butter.  There were carrots, tomatoes, and corn.  There were potato wedges covered in melted cheese and some strange orange potato-like vegetable sprinkled with sugar.  There was also a large, fluffy roll squeezed in on the edge of everything else.  The heap of food was soon reduced to nothing but some sauce which Traven promptly cleaned up with the last of his roll.  Some of the food had tasted strange to him, but it had all tasted good nonetheless.  He leaned back against the wall satisfied.  Blaize finished his food shortly after Traven and after looking around burped quietly into his hand.

“Didn’t I tell you you’d like what I ordered?” Blaize said as he rubbed his stomach.

“You’d think that I’d trust you by now,” Traven said with a smile.

“You should,” Blaize answered with mock concern.  “But to change the subject Traven, I really need to go sign up at the barracks and you need to get to your merchant school.  That’s the reason we’re here after all.”

Traven suddenly wasn’t as excited as he had been.  He’d known that when they finally reached Calyn he and Blaize would go their separate ways, but he had been so excited with everything that he had forgotten all about it.  It would be interesting and exciting to be in the merchant school, but he knew he would miss Blaize.  Blaize had become almost like a second father to him but more like a best friend.  Traven didn’t want to have to say farewell to the man who had not only saved his life but had allowed him to travel with him.  Blaize had even taken the time to teach him not only how to fight and protect himself but also about life.  Traven solemnly followed him out of the restaurant and mounted Pennon in silence.

“Oh brother Traven.  You look like you just found out that someone died.”

“I was just thinking that it’s too bad we have to part so soon,” Traven answered.

“It’s not like we’re not going to see each other ever again.”  Traven brightened up slightly.  “We’re going to be in the same city, and we can easily get together every once in a while and reminisce on sleeping out in the freezing rain and being attacked in the dark.”  Traven smiled.  “Besides, when you’re a big, wealthy merchant maybe I’ll sign on as one of your merchant guards.”

“If I become a wealthy merchant you’ll be the first choice for captain of my guards.”

“Oh I’m so flattered,” Blaize said facetiously.  They then rode in silence until they made it back to the main street.  Once back on the main street, Blaize rode next to Traven until they came to a point where a large street crossed the main one.  Blaize pointed down the street that headed south.  “The army barracks is down that way so I guess it’s bye for now.  I’ll see you around.”  With that Blaize turned with a smile and began down the street southward.  As Traven sat sadly watching him leave, he suddenly realized that he didn’t know how to get to where he needed to go.

“Wait a minute Blaize,” Traven yelled as he hurried after the warrior.  Blaize pulled over to the side of the road and looked back at Traven.  “Where are the merchant schools at?”

“I forgot that you didn’t know,” Blaize said with a laugh.  “They are right on the other side of the Grand Palace.  Just keep following this road.  When you get past the Grand Palace, go right on the first large street that crosses the one you’re on.  That’ll take you right into the scholar district.  From there you’ll have to find the particular merchant school by yourself.”

“Thanks Blaize.  I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

“You would probably just ask someone else and find it anyway,” Blaize said with a grin.  “Now get out of here.”  Traven gave a final wave to Blaize and made his way back onto the main street.

* * * * *

Blaize watched as Traven made his way down the main street and out of sight.  The young man was so out of place in the large city, but he would get the hang of it.  At least he knew how to defend himself now.  He smiled to himself.  It was too bad that they had to part.  Traven had been good company on the journey to Calyn.  Blaize had almost come to love the young man as the son that he had never had.  He would miss being able to talk with him every day.  Oh well, he thought as he started down the road towards the army barracks, I’ll see him again sometime.  And for some reason, Blaize knew he would.

* * * * *

As Traven rode closer and closer to the Grand Palace, his eyes grew wider and wider.  When the main street finally transformed into the High King’s Square, he found himself once again at a loss for words.  It was all so amazing!  There were fountains all over the gigantic square with statues of fantastical creatures and legendary warriors.  In the center of the square there was even a small grove of trees surrounded by colorful flowers of every kind.  Surrounding the square were immense buildings of stunning architecture.  Traven easily guessed which one was the Royal Library but was not sure what all of the rest of the buildings were for.  But out of all of the buildings, one of them stood out far above all of the rest, the Grand Palace.

The capacious size of the building itself was remarkable not to mention its beautiful architecture.  The Grand Palace was as wide as one whole side of the square and surrounded by a two span tall wall that was made out of the same brilliant white stone as that of the outer wall.  It was set back slightly from the square and through the open gate at its front, Traven could see that it had its own small square filled with statues of past kings and queens of Kalia.  To the sides of the palace square there were trees of every kind that offset the whites and golds of the palace with their greenery and fall foliage.  The palace rose above the trees many stories into the air.  Atop the final story there was a large dome of gold that capped the center of the palace.  Even more striking than the golden dome however were the four towers that rose out of the corners of the palace.  The two in front were extremely high, but the two in back reached even higher towards the heavens.  Traven had no way of knowing how tall the towers were but guessed that the two smaller ones in front had to be at least twenty stories tall.  He did not even want to guess at how tall the other two were.  Traven could see that the tops of the four towers were also plated in gold just as the dome was.  He had never imagined the palace being so vast and beautiful.

Traven continued to stare up in awe at the Grand Palace from the spacious High King’s Square as the flood of people in the square flowed around him.  As he stared up at the windows of the palace, he wondered what it would be like to live in such a wonderful place.  Servants would be at his beck and call and he would have all the luxuries he had ever dreamed of.  Whenever he felt like it he could climb to the top of one of the towers and look far out over the ocean or far out over the grasslands of Kalia.  It would be amazing.  Traven finally ripped his gaze away from the palace and started across the square to where the main road would emerge from it.  He really did need to get to the merchant school to check in.  He couldn’t help glancing up at the palace several more times as he crossed the square.

He reached the main road and started down it away from the palace.  He turned right on the first road that crossed the one he was on and found himself on a quieter road with less traffic that was lined with large buildings.  He rode slowly down the road so that he could read the signs on all of the buildings announcing what they were.  They ranged from elementary academies to philosophical centers.  Towards the end of the street Traven found the building he had been looking for.  A large, four story building with a bright red slate roof announced itself as Kalia’s Merchant Academy.  He smiled uncertainly at the large building that was to be his new home.  He had made it to merchant school at last.

17

Kalista gazed out from her bedroom window down at the great square milling about with people.  Different people from different lands walked freely through the square, some stopping to admire the palace.  She always marveled at the fact that they did not realize that while they were staring up at the palace she was sometimes staring right back at them.  She wondered what it would be like to be one of them.  It would be fun to be an ordinary person who could do whatever they wanted to.  What she would give to be able to go out there alone and have some fun.  She envied those who could choose to do whatever they wanted to.  With a sigh she stepped back from her window and walked over to her vanity to run a brush through her hair.  Kalista admired herself in the mirror as she sat brushing her long golden hair with her favorite ivory brush.  She smiled at her reflection, and it smiled back at her showing off its dimples.  Those had come from her dad while her hair had come from her mother.

Tears began to well up in her bright blue eyes at the thought of her mother.  She did not cry about it anymore, but her eyes sometimes still stung with tears.  She still found it hard to believe that she no longer had a mother.  All of her life her mother had been her best friend.  She had always admired her mother’s strength and beauty, and most of all she had admired her mother for always being there for her to talk to.  She wished her mother was still there for her to talk with now.  Kalista sometimes discussed her problems with her nanny, but it was never the same.  Her nanny could never compare to her mother, the High Queen Kineta d’ Roshedrian.

She had been dead for over a year now, but the pain of her death had still not worn off.  Shortly after Kalista’s sixteenth birthday celebration, her mother had suddenly fallen ill.  The royal clerics and the best physicians in Kalia had tried everything but had not been able to save her from dying several weeks later.  Kalista would never forget how her mother had reserved time, even after she had fallen ill, when they could just sit together and talk privately as mother and daughter and not High Queen and Princess.  When she had finally died, the High Queen had died with one hand clasped by her loving husband, the High King Raldon d’ Roshedrian, and one hand clasped by her only child, the Princess Kalista d’ Roshedrian.  Kalista would never forget that night for as long as she lived.  Even after her mother had fallen ill, Kalista had never believed that she would actually die.  She had always maintained the hope that her mother would miraculously be healed.  On that last night with her mother, her view of the world had changed.  She had seen how frail and special life was and how cruel the fates could be.

She had never been particularly close to her father before her mother’s death and still was not.  At first she had thought the death would have brought them closer together, and while it had at first, soon things were back to normal with the High King spending all of his time ruling the kingdom.  She had always admired her mother for balancing her duty as the High Queen with her duty as a mother.  Kalista didn’t think badly of her father for being so dedicated to his people but had always wished that they could be closer.  She set her brush down and patted her eyes softly with a silk handkerchief.  After clearing the tears from her eyes she set about weaving her long golden hair into a single, thick braid.

Kalista especially wished she had her mother to talk to right now.  Her father was talking about her getting married soon, but she didn’t know if she was ready for it yet.  He was not pressuring her into marriage.  He was just dropping hints about it.  Her nanny had also been telling her it was about time that she should marry.  Kalista had nothing against marriage.  She was seventeen and would be eighteen in the spring, but she did not know if she wanted to marry yet.  Her mother had not married her father until she was nearly twenty, so she did not feel too rushed.  But with all of the talk of marriage, she was beginning to feel a little uneasy.  As soon as she was done braiding her hair, she got up from her padded stool, grabbed a purple velvet cloak to keep her warm, and left her room.

As she made her way through her sitting room, her two chamber servants rose quickly from their embroidering.  She handed them her cloak and they deftly put it on her.  They then took her archery gloves and slid them onto her outstretched hands.  When they were sure that everything was on her perfectly, they asked if there was anything else they might do for her.  Kalista told them that she had everything she needed and thanked them for their help.  They both made deep curtsies and sat back down to work on their embroidery.  She did not know how they could spend all day just sitting there embroidering and talking to each other, but they always seemed happy.  Servants were strange sometimes.  She left her sitting room and headed for the back courtyard.

She walked quickly down the lower stairs of the southwest tower and onto the upper floor of the palace.  She had her bedroom on one of the lower floors of the tower and rarely went up to the middle and upper floors.  The southwest tower was set aside for the children of the High King, but as she was the only child at the present, most of the tower remained empty and unused.  Every once in a while she would climb to the top of the tower.  It was quiet up there, and she could sit and think while she either looked out over the great ocean or over the land of Kalia.  The top of the tower had a great view of all the area surrounding the city, and she could see for miles.  She sometimes wished that she had brothers and sisters to share the tower and view with, but she unfortunately was the only heir to the throne.

The High King had his living quarters in the northwest tower.  While Kalista used one of the lowest floors for her room so that she was near the bustle of the palace, her father had always had his rooms in the middle floors so that he could get away from the bustle of the palace and be alone when he was in his personal chambers.  The northeast tower was used mainly for storage.  There were things in there that had not been touched for hundreds of years.  Kalista had gone in that tower several times with the idea of climbing to the top floors to see what was in them, but it was so dusty in the tower that she always came back down before she had gotten past the first few floors.  The southeast tower was a whole different matter.  While the others were fairly quiet and empty, the southeast tower was always full of people and activity.  It was used for matters of state and governing.  The royal clerks, advisors, and so on lived there and had their offices on the lower floors.  The upper floors held the lodgings of all of the tower’s many servants.  Kalista sometimes wondered what it was like on the upper floors of the southeast tower since she had never been there.

She nodded to the liveried servants that bowed deeply as she passed them in the halls.  She had always made it a point to nod to them, acknowledging that she was pleased with them.  She had learned that from her mother.  While many of the nobles refused to even acknowledge the peasants around them, Kalista’s mother had taught her to show respect to those lesser than herself.  Although they were only commoners, they were still people with families and lives.  She smiled when she finally made her way down the last set of palace stairs and out onto the back courtyard.  Her archery instructor named Pegwin was already waiting happily with her bow in his hand.  He was a skinny old man with grey hair but was still one of the best shots in all Kalia.  He smiled as she approached and made a deep bow.

“Right on time as usual my Princess,” Pegwin said as he straightened himself.

“You know that I would never be late for an archery lesson Pegwin,” Kalista said with a smile.

“I do not know if they are really lessons anymore.  I think you are better than me now,” he said with a chortle.  “The only thing I can do for you now is keep you practicing so that you don’t get rusty.”  Kalista smiled as Pegwin handed her bow to her and fetched his own.  “Today I moved the target back another ten feet.  We will see if that affects your aim at all.”

Kalista smiled as she pulled an arrow out of the bucket between her and Pegwin and fitted it on her bow.  She then pulled the string back as she brought the arrow’s shaft even with her eye.  As she stared down the shaft of the arrow at the far away target, she let everything else around her fade away and disappear.  She let the target fill her vision.  When it was aligned perfectly with the bull’s-eye, she gently released the arrow from her bow.  She smiled when the sharp metal point of the arrow met the center of the target with a thunk.  She repeated her shot two more times with the same result before turning to Pegwin with a smile.  He was standing with his hand shading his eyes as he squinted at the target far away.  He whistled through his teeth and turned to Kalista with a big smile splitting his face.

“Well I guess that proves that it does not matter how far away the target is.  I guess it wasn’t just a fluke that you always hit the center of the target.”

“You knew it was not a fluke,” Kalista said.  “You were just hoping I wouldn’t be so accurate on my first try if you moved it back and then you would finally have a chance at beating me.”

“I cannot believe that you would accuse me of such a thing,” Pegwin declared looking deeply hurt.  “I am just trying to help you improve, and you accuse me, a simple man, of trying to cheat a beautiful young woman.  I just cannot believe it.”

“Don’t even pretend that you were not thinking that,” Kalista stated.  “Admit that was what you were hoping.  Come on, admit it!”

“Okay maybe I was,” Pegwin said as he cracked a smile.  “But you have to realize how I feel when you continually shoot better than me over and over again.”

“You know the only reason I shoot so well is because I was taught by the best.”

“I have to agree with you there,” Pegwin announced with a chortle.  He then proceeded to shoot three arrows.  All three of them ended up in the bulls eye of the second target that stood next to the one Kalista had shot at.

“See, you are still as good as ever.”

“Yes I am because I spent all morning practicing at this distance,” Pegwin said as he started laughing.

“I knew you were up to something you crazy old man.  I knew you had a plan to win,” Kalista said as she pointed at Pegwin with her bow and joined in laughing with her friendly instructor.

“Easy there Princess.  Do not get carried away.  I may be crazy, but I am not old.”

That sent them into another wave of laughter.  After they composed themselves, they took turns shooting at the targets.  Kalista always loved her sessions with the wizened archer.  She could pretend that she was a warrior on an adventure with her bow as a deadly weapon.  When she was concentrating on the target she could forget that she was a princess and put all of her worries behind her.  She always lost track of time and of what was going on around her, and Pegwin enjoyed archery so much that he always seemed to lose track of time also.  When they had emptied the bucket of arrows the second time, Kalista realized she was late for her governing lessons.  She quickly thanked Pegwin for helping her practice and hurried off through the palace to her room.

As she ran through the sitting room her chamber servants rose to help her, but she waved them back down.  She would be able to get ready faster without them getting in the way.  Once she was in her room, she quickly pulled off her gloves and cloak and threw them on a chair.  She grabbed her book only to set it back down as she paused in front of her mirror.  She quickly tried to fix the loose wisps of hair that had come out of her braid.  She then picked up her lesson book and hurried to where her nanny conducted her lessons on the other side of the palace.

As she burst into the study room, her nanny set down the book she had been reading and directed a stern gaze at Kalista.  Nanny Frieda was a plump, old woman who had also been Kalista’s mother’s nanny.  Frieda always had her white streaked brown hair pulled up into a perfect, tight bun directly in the center of the back of her head.  She was dressed in gray as usual and was still wearing her reading spectacles as she rose to confront her.  Kalista groaned to herself in anticipation of what was coming.  The problem with Frieda was that the plump woman continued to treat her as if she was still a child who did not know anything.

“Kalista, this is the third time you have been late in the last five days,” Frieda began.  “And from your looks and the way you are breathing, I assume you would have been even later if you had not run like a mad woman through the halls of the palace just to get here.”

“I am sorry Frieda, but I lost track of the time while I was having my archery . . .”

“I do not care why you are late child,” Frieda cut in.  “There is never a good reason for being late for an appointment.  What are we going to do if we have a queen who is always late for important meetings?”  Frieda paused to shake her head back and forth disapprovingly.  “One of these days you are going to have to learn some responsibility young lady.”  Kalista just stared back at Frieda blankly.  Frieda sighed with frustration.  “I do not even know why I bother!  Let us start on today’s lesson.”

Kalista settled down at her desk to listen to the day’s lesson.  Frieda began by reviewing what they had gone over the day before.  Luckily Kalista had actually been listening to how the customs in Balthus differed from those in Kalia and was able to answer all of Frieda’s questions.  Frieda then began to explain some more of the customs of Balthus.  Some of them were fairly close to those in Kalia while others were quite strange.  Apparently in Balthus they buried people standing up so that they would be ready to walk into a new world.  When her mother had died, she had been laid down in the earth so that her body might have eternal rest as was proper.  Kalista found many of the customs interesting and was disappointed when Frieda stopped talking about them and brought her letters to practice copying.  She hated copying the same letters over and over again.  She found no point in doing it since she already knew how to write fine, but Frieda insisted that as a future queen she must have perfect penmanship.  She insisted the only way to have perfect penmanship was to practice it continually.

Kalista was grateful when the servants delivered her lunch to the study, allowing her to take a break from her penmanship lessons.  She took as long as she possibly could in eating the small lunch of crackers, cheese, and fruit.  When she finished her spiced drink and the last of her crackers, Frieda made her resume her penmanship lessons straightaway.  Kalista muttered to herself as she once again set about copying down the letters and words.  When she finally finished copying all of the pages, she took them up to Frieda.  Her nanny set down her book and began to scrutinize all of the papers thoroughly.  She flipped from page to page while clicking her tongue.  After a thorough review, Frieda set them down in a neat pile and turned back to Kalista with a smile.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you copied your letters almost perfectly.  You are beginning to achieve a very fine hand young lady.  Maybe all of this practice is finally paying off.”

Frieda then rose and had Kalista sit back down at her desk.  She sighed as her nanny launched into a boring lecture about proper protocol.  She had heard all of this many times before and quit paying attention to her nanny.  She wished she didn’t have to sit there while her nanny went on and on about things she had been taught since she was little.  She was tired of all of the useless repetition of the lessons.  Maybe if she did get married, Frieda would have to admit she was grown up and she would finally be able to get out of these lessons.  Kalista leaned back in her chair and stared blankly at Frieda as her mind took her somewhere else far away from the study.

18

As Traven approached the steps of the merchant school, he realized that he had forgotten to change into his nice clothing.  He couldn’t believe that he had almost walked in without changing.  If he went in looking like he did now with his soiled traveling clothes, he wouldn’t make a very good impression at all.  He wondered where he might be able to change before going inside the merchant school to check in.  He turned away from the school and continued down the street.  At the end of the street there was a narrow alley that wound away from the street between tall buildings.  Traven got down from Pennon and after looking around to make sure that no one was watching, led him back into the alley.  When the alley abruptly ended at a stone wall, he set Pennon to block him from view from the front and pulled his black clothes from his saddlebag, quickly changing into them.  Once he had stuffed his dirty clothes into his saddlebag, he tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his brand new silver threaded black clothes.  He then tied his red cloth back around his arm and buckled his sword belt back on.  He then squeezed past Pennon and led him back out of the alley.  A few people looked at him strangely as he emerged from the alleyway but continued on with their business.  Traven walked down the street leading Pennon confident in his new appearance.

After leaving Pennon with a stable boy at the side of Kalia’s Merchant Academy, Traven took a deep breath and walked up the stone steps and into the reception area of the school.  The room was quite large with a fireplace at the end and several couches to sit down upon and visit.  He spotted a middle aged, overweight man doing some paperwork behind a large desk and approached him.  The man was intent on what he was doing so Traven waited patiently.  He was surprised that there were not more people checking in.  He had been told that check in was anytime during the week before the term started.  He was only a day or two early and had thought that there would probably be others who would be arriving about the same time.  From what he understood, the schooling would consist of six days in a row of classes and then he would have a day off before starting another six consecutive days.  Other than that he really didn’t know what to expect.  The man behind the front desk finally set his papers down and came over to help Traven.

“Sorry about the wait young master.  Can I help you?”  Traven was so surprised at how the man had addressed him that it took a few moments for him to answer back.  He guessed that he really did look like he was wealthy in his new clothes.

“Hello sir.  My name is Traven, and I’m here to check in for the winter and spring term.”  The man looked at Traven confused for a few moments before walking over to a notebook and opening it up.  He flipped through some pages before a smile crept on to his face.

“So you are the one who has come all the way over from Oak Tree.  My name is Mr. Kiscin, and I’ll be one of your instructors,” the man said as he came over to Traven and shook his hand.  “I am glad that you finally made it.  It is a good thing you showed up today.  The headmaster instructed me to strike your name from the role book if you did not show up by tonight.”

“Excuse me sir but I don’t understand.  I was told that registration went all the way up to the beginning of the term.  Was I misinformed?” Traven asked the man.

“You are right about that, but the term started six days ago,” Mr. Kiscin answered.  “The starting time was changed about a month ago.  We sent out notices to all of the young men who would be attending, but it probably did not get to your home before you left.”  Traven couldn’t believe that he was a whole week late.  “Do not worry about being late.  Not much has really been going on this first week except for orientation and class assignments.  You will be able to get into the swing of things fast enough.”

“Thanks, I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Oh do not be sorry.  It was not your fault.  Nobody besides you is from anywhere farther than four bridges.  Most of the young men are from Calyn itself.”  The instructor stopped and chuckled.  “Listen to me carry on.  You probably want to get up to your room and rest before dinner starts.  I am sure your journey has been long and tiring.  I will just finish up here, and then I will take you up to your room.  Go get your belongings from the stable.  I will be ready for you when you get back.”

Traven thanked the man and went back out the front doors and down to the side of the building where the stables were located.  After he retrieved his saddlebag from Pennon’s stall he went back into the building and found the instructor waiting to show him to his room.  The man greeted him with another friendly smile and led him up the stairs that were almost hidden at the back of the front room.  Once on the second floor, the man led him down a long hall lined on both sides with doors.  Towards the end of the hall the man finally stopped and opened one of the doors.  He then stood back and let Traven enter the room first.  The room was small but looked comfy.  There was a soft looking bed, a wardrobe, and a desk in the room.  The one window at the back of the room looked out over the street in front of the merchant academy.

“This is where you will be living while you are here.  It is not as spacious as most of the other rooms in the hall, but it is livable.”

“It’s just fine,” Traven told the instructor as he set down his saddlebags.

“The dinner bell will ring in a couple of hours.  Until then you can get unpacked and rest.  The other students will be done with their classes in about an hour if you want to meet any of them before dinner,” the man then paused before going on as if he was uncertain if he should say something or not.  After a moment he started up again.  “Now Traven there is something I want to tell you.  You had me fooled into thinking you were some wealthy lord’s son when you walked in at first, but I know who you really are.  I know you want to make a good first impression, but the others will see through it so do not try to fool anyone.  I have to be honest with you.  Most of the students here come from very wealthy families while the others come from fairly wealthy families.  You on the other hand are one of the few people who come here throughout the years because your family has been saving up and sacrificing for years to send you here.  Many of the teachers and students here do not have very open minds when it comes to regular peasants.  I myself am the son of a peasant who married into money and do not have that prejudice.  Some of the others might give you a hard time, but do not let it bother you.  Just keep on going and fulfill your dreams.”  Mr. Kiscin patted him on the back.  “I have to get back to my duties, but you remember that okay.”

“Thanks,” Traven said.  “I’ll remember that.”  Mr. Kiscin then left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Traven sat down on his bed to think.  Showing up a week late was not going to help him blend in with the other students, but he was sure that they all weren’t as bad as Mr. Kiscin had made them out to be.  Besides, he was here to learn how to become a successful merchant not to find a bunch of friends.  He did hope, though, that he would get along with the other students.  He got up from the bed and unpacked his saddlebag.  When he had transferred his possessions into the wardrobe and around the room, he thought about changing back into his other clothes but decided against it.  They were too dirty for him to wear around.  He decided that since tomorrow was the day off for the students he would have time to get them washed.  When he was done getting himself situated in his new room, he unbuckled his sword belt, set it down next to the bed and fell down onto his bed to get some much needed rest.

No sooner had he closed his eyes than he heard whoops of excitement as people rushed into the hall outside of his room.  He figured that the classes must be over.  He thought about going out of his room to introduce himself, but he was tired and decided to rest a little longer.  The bed was actually quite soft and it didn’t take Traven very long to get comfortable.  As he lay there with his eyes closed, he thought about the journey to get to Calyn and how it was now over.  After all of his long awaited anticipation for the time when he would actually be at the merchant school, he was finally here.  It would be interesting to see what his new schedule would be like.  He wondered when he might have time to go through his sword exercises.  Soon the noise in the hall died down, and he drifted off to sleep.

“Riiinnnnggggggg!”

Traven bolted upright in his bed at the piercing sound that had invaded his rest.  As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he realized that what he had just heard was the dinner bell.  He climbed off of his bed and tidied up his rumpled clothes.  It was then that he realized he had no idea where the dining hall was.  He quickly dashed out of his room hoping that some of the students were still in the halls and could show him where the dining hall was.  To his disappointment, the hall outside was completely empty.  He shut his door and slowly began to walk towards the end of the hall.  He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and now he was going to be late for dinner if he even found the dining hall.  His dismal thoughts were interrupted as one of the doors behind him opened and closed.  Turning around he saw a fellow about his age, maybe a little older, heading down the hall towards him.  He was almost as tall as Traven and was very skinny.  He had red hair and his face was covered with freckles.  He was wearing well cut clothes made of cotton and had on spectacles.  What Traven noticed most, however, was that the fellow was wearing a shy smile.  Traven was about to ask him how to get to the dining hall, but the fellow spoke up first.

“We better hurry up if we don’t want to be late.  I don’t think I have met you yet.  My name is Thadius, but most people call me Thad.”  Traven shook Thad’s outstretched hand.

“Nice to meet you.  My name’s Traven.  You haven’t seen me around because I just arrived a couple of hours ago.”

“A late comer are you?  Here, we can talk while we’re walking to the dining hall.  We’re definitely going to be the last in line by now.”  Traven followed Thad as he took the stairs down at the end of the hall.  “So Traven, why did you get here so late?  You don’t want to get on the bad side of Headmaster Brock.”

“Well it wasn’t my fault.  I was never informed that the term was starting a week early,” Traven explained.

“Really!  You mean that they never told you!  The staff here prides itself on never making a mistake.”

“Oh I think they probably sent me a notice, but I was already on my way here before it got to my home.”  Thad led Traven through the front room and into a smaller one.  From there he could hear the clatter of silverware and the noise of hungry young men dishing up and eating food.  When they stepped into the large dining hall, the noise was even louder.  Traven followed Thad to the end of a long line and looked out over the room.  The dining room consisted of three long tables down the center and a raised platform at the end with a podium.  The back, where they were at, consisted of a serving bar where chefs were busy slapping food onto the young men’s plates.

“So where are you from then,” Thad asked as they waited at the end of the line to get their food.  “If you had to leave before you got the notice then you must be from quite a ways away.”

“I’m from Oak Tree.”  When Thad just looked back at him questioningly, Traven elaborated.  “It’s a few days southeast of Kavar.”

“Okay.  I know about where that is.  Wow, you have come pretty far.  Most of us are from right around here.”

Thad then became distracted by a spot on his spectacles and became engrossed in wiping it off and making his glasses perfectly clean.  Traven just smiled as he resumed looking out over the room.  The first table was already halfway full.  All of the people who were sitting at it were older and appeared to be instructors and so forth.  The second and third tables were quickly beginning to fill up as people got their food and sat down.  The line was actually moving fairly swiftly, and soon Traven was up to the serving bar.  He followed Thad’s example and picked up a rectangular wooden tray.  He then placed a tin platter along with eating utensils onto the wooden tray and set it up on top of the serving bar.  As he slid the tray along, the chefs slopped down food onto his plate.  The meal consisted of some carrots, mashed potatoes, several slices of roast beef, and a chunk of dry looking bread.  At the end of the bar a chef poured a thick brown sauce over his potatoes and slapped a tin cup full of cider onto his platter.

Traven pulled down his tray and followed Thad as he made his way to the third table.  He noticed that Thad only had carrots, mashed potatoes, and bread on his platter.  He asked him about it while they were walking.  Thad explained that he did not eat meat.  When Traven asked him why, he replied that meat was not healthy for the body and that he did not think that it was right to kill animals to eat them.  Traven just shook his head.  He had never heard of anyone who didn’t eat meat.  The third table was pretty full, so he suggested that they eat at one of the other tables instead.

“We can’t do that,” Thad quickly said as Traven began to turn.

“Why not?”

“The first table is for the faculty, and you can’t eat there unless you’re invited to.  The second table is only for second year students.  The third table is for all of us first year students.”  Traven squeezed in next to Thad at the very end of the bench on the third table and immediately joined in eating with the rest of the people in the room.  The food was not the best he had ever tasted and was definitely not even close to the quality of food he had eaten earlier in the day.  But it was edible, and he was hungry, so he ate it without complaint.  He could hear others at the table grumbling about the food, but they were also eating it just as hungrily.  The bread was really dry, but it was not that bad after Traven dipped it in his extra sauce.  As he was finishing up his food, the room slowly began to quiet down.  He looked up and found that one of the faculty had positioned himself behind the podium at the front of the room and was preparing to speak.  Traven quietly asked Thad who it was.

“That’s Headmaster Brock,” Thad whispered back.  “He always addresses us after dinner.”  Traven turned back to look up at the man.  Headmaster Brock was middle aged going on old and had short, grey streaked black hair.  He was wearing a scowl and from the look of his face it seemed as though that must be his regular expression.  He was wearing a long black robe made of silk over his clothes like the rest of the instructors.  The Headmaster, however, also had a picture of a gold wagon embroidered on the front of his cloak.  After waiting for the entire dining hall to become completely silent, he began his address.

“Good evening my young scholars,” he began in a surprisingly deep voice.  “I am glad to see that you have learned how to get quiet when a speaker approaches the podium.  This has been a good first week, but now that all of the orientating is done with, you will begin to get a real taste of what it will be like for you here at the academy.  Those of you who are here for your second year already know that the courses of study are difficult but that they are rewarding.  Tomorrow you will be free to do whatever you would like, but remember that you are students of this academy and make sure you act responsibly.

Now that I have said that, I would like to make you aware of some of your shortcomings that I have noticed.  You still run to the dinner hall like a pack of savages, and the way you behaved at the end of classes today was despicable.  At this academy we will behave like gentlemen.  From now on we will walk from room to room like civilized people, and we will not yell in the halls.  Is this understood?  Good.  I am looking forward to the remainder of the year.  Overall this was a good first week, and we will work to improve upon it.  Thank you for allowing me to speak with you this evening and enjoy your day off tomorrow, because next week the real lessons start.”

Traven watched as Headmaster Brock stepped down from the platform and left the dining hall.  He was immediately followed by the other instructors including Mr. Kiscin.  After all of the faculty had left, the other students began to rise and leave.  Traven saw that everyone else was leaving their dishes on the table, so he gratefully left his also.  He talked to Thad as they made their way back upstairs to their rooms.  Most of the other students went out the front of the school to go have some fun, but Traven was still tired from getting up so early and fighting Blaize.  He decided that he would rather just go to bed early.  He told Thad he was tired and was going to bed.  Thad was going up to his room as well to read.  Traven could tell that Thad was not the type who liked to party.  When they reached the top of the stairs they ran into four fellows who were heading back down from their rooms.

“Hey Thaddy,” one of them said as he put his arm around his shoulders.  “Who is this loser you’re talking to?  I thought I told you that you could only talk if I gave you permission to.”

“I’m sorry Rudy but . . .”

“Thaddy, did I say you could talk?”  Thad shook his head.  “That’s what I thought,” Rudy said as he squeezed his arm tighter around Thad’s neck, causing his face to turn red.  “Now if you ever . . .”  Traven did not know what this Rudy was going to do to Thad, but he decided to stop it before things got out of hand.

“Leave him alone,” Traven said.

“And who is going to make me, you?” Rudy said as he pushed Thad away and started towards Traven.

“Yes, me,” Traven said with a smile.

19

Kalista sat quietly while her chamber servants undid her long braid and proceeded to brush out her hair.  She listened to them silently as they talked about how her hair was just like gold and how it was so long and beautiful and so on.  She sometimes grew tired of having so much hair and had thought of getting it cut shorter more than once but could never bring herself to do it.  It reached all the way down to her lower back, and she somehow could never go through with getting it cut any shorter.  She wondered if it was because her mother had had long golden hair too or if she was just afraid of doing something so permanent without knowing what she would end up looking like.  Once her personal chamber servants had finished brushing out her hair, they braided part of it in a crown around her head before combining the two braids into a larger one that stretched down her back.  The rest of her hair was left to flow loose down her back also.  Kalista turned and looked herself over in the mirror and found that as usual her servants had done a perfect job with her hair.

“Thank you.  You may leave now,” she said dismissing them with a wave of her hand.

“As you say Princess,” they each chimed as they curtsied and left her bedroom shutting the door behind them.

Kalista then opened up one of her jewelry boxes to find a necklace to wear for dinner.  She picked out a simple pearl necklace with a hanging firedrop in the middle and fastened it around her neck.  With a last look at herself in the mirror she left the room and walked through her sitting chamber.  Her servants were already back to chatting softly as they embroidered.  She wondered if they ever did anything else as she walked out into the hall.  She walked slowly towards the back of the palace where her father’s private dining chamber was located.  This was the one time of the day where she was sure to see her father.  The High King always made sure that he had time to eat dinner with her.

Kalista had always looked forward to dinner when her mother was still alive.  All three of them would eat together and talk about how their days had been.  After dinner they would sometimes go into the library and play a game or two of Sharks and Dolphins or just sit and read by the fireplace.  But after her mother died, evenings were never the same.  She was glad that her father still made a point to leave time so that they could eat together, but most of their dinners were now spent in an awkward silence.  After dinner he would just wish her sweet dreams before retiring to his own chambers.  She was then left to read alone in the library or play Sharks and Dolphins with Nanny Frieda.  Sometimes she just followed her father’s example and went straight to bed.  She knew that her father had taken the loss of her mother much harder than she had, but he wouldn’t talk about it and never had showed any public emotion except at her burial.  He hadn’t been the same since then, though most people probably couldn’t tell the difference.  Kalista wished that she could do something to make her father happier but didn’t know what.

When she reached the dinning chamber, a servant held the door open for her, and she walked gracefully into the room.  Her father was not there yet, so she sat down next to the head of the table to wait for him.  She looked down the length of the table and wondered as she often had what it would be like if the table was actually full.  It could probably fit twenty people.  The only reason she thought it was strange was that this was her father’s private dining chamber, and he only allowed family to eat there.  She moved on to wondering what would be served this evening for dinner when her father came in and sat down at the head of the table next to her.  After they had given each other welcoming smiles, the High King clapped his hands and the servants swiftly brought in the first course of the meal.  It was a lite salad with leaves of seaweed.  Kalista and her father began to eat in silence after the servants splashed a zesty dressing over the salads.

“How was your day my dear?” the High King suddenly asked.

“Fine,” Kalista answered back quickly.

“Did anything exciting happen today?”

Kalista thought about her day before answering.

“My lessons were boring as usual father, but I did do well at archery.  Pegwin moved the target back, and I was still able to hit the bull’s-eye without any problem.”

“That is nice to hear,” the High King said as the second course was brought in.

They again began to eat in silence.  Kalista remembered fondly that when her mother was still alive there had rarely been a pause in the conversation all through dinner.  Of course that was probably on the account that there were three people to keep it going instead of just two, but she still wished it could be more like it used to be.  The second course was consumed in silence and then the main course also.  The awkward silence lasted all the way until dessert was served.  She tried to think of something to say to break the silence, but her father spoke up first.

“So Kalista, have you thought anymore about marriage?” he asked trying to hold back a grin.

“Father, I told you that I do not know if I want to get married yet,” Kalista replied.

“Do not become so defensive.  I was simply wondering, because Baron Mikel from Candus is bringing his son along to the winter ball.”  Kalista felt butterflies in her stomach.

“Why did you not tell me about this sooner?” she said eyeing her father.  “I did not know that you had invited them.”

“Well I did not exactly invite Barron Mikel for the ball.  We need to talk about what is going on over in the borders of Balthus, and since he was going to be here around the time of the ball, I told him to bring his son along.”  The High King paused taking on a mischievous grin.  “You did know that he is looking to get married soon.  I thought maybe he could be your escort for the ball.”  Kalista tried to hide her excitement with a mask of disapproval.

“Father, you know that I am old enough to choose my own escort.”

“I was just making a suggestion my dear,” he said with a knowing smile.  Kalista waited a few more seconds before she said anything.

“I guess I will take your suggestion and allow Baron Mikel’s son to escort me to the ball,” she said trying to hide her smile.  “But only to make you happy.”

“I am sure that is the only reason,” the High King said as he rose from the table smiling.  “I think I am going to retire for the night.  Sweet dreams Kalista.”

“Sweet dreams to you too father,” Kalista replied as her father walked out of the room.  She watched as the door closed behind him.  That was one of the longest conversations that they had had in a long time.  Maybe things would finally change back to the way they used to be.

* * * * *

The High King Raldon d’ Roshedrian walked quietly away from his dining chamber with a smile.  Kalista had tried to pretend as though she did not care one way or the other about Baron Mikel’s son, but he knew his daughter better than that.  The last time she had seen him a few years ago, she had all but melted.  Maybe he would have a grandson soon after all.  Raldon walked in silence up the circular stair case towards his bed chambers.  Upon arriving in his antechamber, he sent his chamber servants away for the night.  He would have no need of them until the morning.  He untied his purple cape and tossed it over the back of a chair before heading into his bedroom and sitting down at the foot of his bed.

It was completely silent in his bedchamber.  He enjoyed the solitude.  Ever since his dear Kineta had died, he had drawn in on himself.  The experience had left him with a great void in his life.  He had buried himself in matters of state and could lose himself in all of the work.  However, at night when he went to bed he could not hide from the emptiness.  At first he had moved his bedchamber higher in the tower so that no one would hear him expressing his anguish.  Now he kept it so that he could be free of the world below him when he slept.  While he removed his boots, Raldon glanced across the room at the portrait of his wife that hung above the fireplace.  She had been so beautiful, so full of energy, and so sweet.

When he looked at Kalista, he was always reminded of his beloved wife.  At first it had been almost too painful to be around Kalista because of the constant reminder.  When he had begun to overcome the pain of his wife’s death, he had wanted to repair the damage he had done by distancing himself from his daughter but did not know how to do it.  He had decided that he would try to talk with her more even though it had become awkward.  He wanted to do something to make his daughter happy and had decided that she might be happiest if she were to find a husband and marry.  Raldon wanted her to be as happy in her marriage as he had been in his.  He remembered the way Kalista had acted upon last meeting Baron Mikel’s son and knew that the baron’s son would be a good choice.

Not only did he need to think of a man who would make his daughter happy, but he also needed a man who would be strong enough and wise enough to rule at her side as the future king of all Kalia.  His wife had been healthy when she was struck suddenly by a devious illness which had killed her.  He did not know when the same thing might happen to him and did not want to leave Calyn without a strong ruler by his daughter’s side.  Raldon had been impressed with the young man from Candus the last time he had seen him and hoped that he had continued to mature.  The Baron of Candus had long been a good friend of his, and he knew that if his son was anything like him, he would make a good king.  Raldon hoped that by helping to fill Kalista’s emptiness, he could begin to fill his own.  It had felt good to talk with her at dinner, and he was determined to spend more time with his daughter.  It was sometimes hard for him to look at her and remember her mother, but he had learned there was also joy in seeing a part of his beloved Kineta living on in their child.

As Raldon changed his clothes and got into bed, his thoughts turned to the other reason why Baron Mikel was coming to visit.  The reports from the border of his land were disturbing, and to add upon it was the rise in bandits along Kalia’s highways.  Baron Mikel would return to Candus with a large detachment of royal troops, leaving a few along the way to quell the rash of highway banditry.  If the rogue army in Balthus dared to cross into Kalia, the Baron would be ready to stop them at Candus.  If everything worked out as he hoped, Mikel’s son would stay at the Grand Palace and follow with another large detachment of soldiers at the end of winter.  This would not only give the new recruits in the army more time to train, it would also allow Kalista to become better acquainted with who he hoped would be her future husband.  The High King smiled as he rolled over to fall asleep and thought that maybe things were not so bad after all.

* * * * *

Kalista let out an excited giggle when she was sure her father was far enough away that he would not hear her.  She had been looking forward to the winter ball like she always did, but now there was even more of a reason to look forward to it.  She had always loved the balls that were held in the palace’s giant ballroom, not to mention the feast that always took place before the balls.  The balls gave her a chance to get dressed in one of her nicest gowns and to wear her hair up elaborately.  It also gave her the chance to dance.  She loved dancing around the ballroom to the music.  When she was little, her mother and father would allow her to stay up late so that she could attend part of the ball.  They would take turns dancing with her to a song here and there.  She had loved it so much and had always been disappointed when she was sent up to bed long before the ball was over.

Several years ago she had finally been allowed to attend the ball as an adult.  She had never missed a ball since then.  Usually one of the noble’s sons was picked by her father to be her escort.  The last ball he had allowed her to pick her own escort.  She had seen a rather dashing young man who came to the palace sometimes and had chosen him.  He had turned out to be the worst escort she had ever had.  He was quite handsome, but he had spent the whole night yapping about how much money his family had and how much more he was going to add to the fortune.  He had never quit talking for more than a few seconds the whole night.  That was when Kalista had discovered that just because a man was handsome it did not necessarily make him fun to be around.

She had no worries about Baron Mikel’s son however.  When she had seen him several years ago, she had been struck with his incredibly good looks.  She also remembered that he had been very polite and talked intelligently.  Her mother had always said that if you could find a man who had good looks, was intelligent, and loved you, you should snatch them up before they got away.  She knew that Gavin was definitely good looking and intelligent.  All she had to do was to work on the third part, and she would have a husband in Gavin.  Maybe she was about ready for marriage after all.  She could not believe that her father had invited Baron Mikel and his son without saying anything.  Though, he had unquestionably made a good choice.

Kalista rose from the table filled with excitement and left the room.  She thought about going to the library to read a book, but she didn’t think that she could manage to concentrate on a book at the moment.  She decided that she might as well just go up to her room.  There she could relax and think about the good news that she had just learned.  Before she went to her room, though, she took a walk through the palace’s majestic halls.  She saw a few servants, but other than them she didn’t run into anyone.  After her stroll, she continued on to her room with a smile still gracing her face.  When she entered her sitting chamber, she was surprised to find that Nanny Frieda was sitting with her regular attendants.  Frieda rose as Kalista came into the room.

“Where have you been young lady?” Frieda began in her usual chiding voice.  “I stopped by the library, but when I found it vacant I assumed that you would be here.”

“I was taking a walk around the palace before coming up to bed Frieda.  It is no big deal.”

“You do not think anything is a big deal, do you?  I needed to speak with you, but you were nowhere to be found.  What if it had been something important?”

“But it is not anything important is it!” Kalista exclaimed irritated with her nanny.  “If it was important somebody could have found me easily enough.  It was not like I was hiding.  I was just roaming the halls in plain sight of anyone who bothered to look.  Frieda, I am not a little girl anymore.  I do not have to tell someone what I am doing every second of the day.”

“Calm down Kalista.  I would think that you could control your emotions better if you were as grown up as you say you are.”  Kalista threw up her hands in exasperation.  She then calmed herself down before saying anything else.  Nanny Frieda would just continue to stand there berating her without telling Kalista what she had come to say if she did not calm down.

“I am sorry Frieda,” Kalista said pretending not to be upset any longer.  “What did you come here to tell me?”

“That is better.  I knew you were a civilized young lady.”  Kalista gritted her teeth but kept a smile.  “I was looking for you because I needed to let you know of a change we will be having in your studying schedule.  The High King thinks that you should know everything that you need to by now.  We will review for a while, and then you will take a test on all of the material.  If you pass all of the tests that I give you to my satisfaction, your schooling as you now know it will be over.”  Kalista’s mood changed back to happiness as she listened to what Frieda had to say.  She was ecstatic that her schooling was at last coming to an end.  She had thought the day would never come.

“It is about time,” she said happily.

“Do not get too excited Princess.  You still have to pass all of the tests that I administer to you.  I also said that your schooling would come to an end as you currently know it.  You will still continue to study in many other ways.  You will regularly attend audiences at the High King’s side and will be expected to spend a certain amount of time each day in the southeast tower learning firsthand how the matters of state are taken care of.”  Kalista’s happiness only dropped slightly.  If Frieda was administering the tests, they would definitely be hard, but after she was done passing all of them she would be free of the boring lessons.  At least she would be able to see the things she had learned about actually being used.  Even if she would still have to keep to a schedule, anything was better than Frieda’s boring lectures and penmanship lessons.

“Thank you for informing me of this tonight,” Kalista said expecting Frieda to leave.

“I am not done yet,” the old woman said.  “Since we will be reviewing so much material, you will not have time for your archery lessons or anything else.”  Kalista’s eyes widened in disappointment as Frieda continued on.  “You will be mine from right after breakfast until midday.  You will then have an hour break before returning to the study until dinner.  We will keep this schedule until we are done reviewing and you have passed all of your exams.”  Frieda paused as she continued to stare at Kalista.

“Is there anything else?” Kalista asked hesitantly.

“No Princess, that is all.”  Frieda then gathered herself and strode for the door.  “I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning.  Come prepared to work hard.”  Kalista watched in silence as her nanny left the sitting room and strode out into the hall.  She let out an exaggerated sigh and headed into her bed chamber.

She motioned for her chamber servants to follow her in and prepare her for bed.  They followed immediately and began to prepare her for sleep.  One of them removed her necklace while the other undid her braid and began to comb her hair out.  She stood silently as they finished up pulling down a silk nightdress gently over her head.  Kalista then dismissed them and crawled into her bed.  She shivered as she pulled her blankets up tightly under her chin.  It was beginning to get cold at nights.  She would let her servants know in the morning to start preparing a small fire in her bedchamber’s fireplace to take the chill out of the air in her room.  They had begun making fires in the sitting room fireplace but had been waiting for her command to begin to make them in her bed chamber.

Kalista’s thoughts then turned to all that she had learned throughout the evening.  While she was not excited about her new studying schedule, she knew that when she was done it would be worth it.  How wonderful it would be to not have to spend her days shut up in the study listening to repetitious lecturing.  Not only did she have her new freedom to look forward to, she also had the winter ball and Gavin’s forthcoming visit.  She smiled with the thought of seeing Gavin once again.  She giggled to herself as she moved around in the large bed trying to get comfortable.  She usually didn’t particularly like the coming of winter, however, this winter was going to be wonderful.

20

Traven stood as tall as he could, rising to his full height as Rudy moved to stand directly in front of him.  Rudy was half a head shorter than him but stocky and easily wider.  The other three students who were with Rudy stepped up behind him, offering their support as Thad leaned back against the wall breathing heavily, staring with wide eyes at the scene before him.  The other three were all smaller than Rudy.  Traven watched silently as Rudy cracked his knuckles and brought his hands up in fists.  Behind him, all three of his friends grinned.  Traven kept his palms open at his side, ready to deflect Rudy’s attack if he tried anything.

“You are new around here, so I am going to assume that the only reason you are acting the way you are is because you do not know who I am,” Rudy stated.  “My name is Rudy, and I make the rules around here.  You follow my rules, and you have nothing to worry about.  You break my rules, and I’ll break something of yours.  Do you understand?”  Traven just stared back at the snob in silence.  “I’m going to take that as a yes.  Now for wasting my time, how about you hand over that sword of yours?  These halls are safe.  I do not think you will be needing it.  As soon as you hand it over I will let you leave, but Thaddy is going to stay here so I can talk to him.”  Traven saw Thad gulp from the corner of his eye.  Rudy opened his hand confidently waiting for Traven to hand him his sword.  He just stared back at the bully.

“Didn’t you hear what Rudy said?” one of the fellows behind Rudy spat.  “Hand over the sword!”

“No thank you,” Traven said as he quickly stepped around Rudy and, grabbing Thad, headed down the hall towards their rooms.

As soon as Rudy recovered from the shock of having someone disobey him, he turned and ran with a yell at Traven.  Traven waited until the last second before shoving Thad gently to the side of the hall and dropping to a knee.  The startled attacker found himself flying over Traven as Traven brought his shoulder up hard against his stomach.  Rudy came to a crashing stop against the wooden floor a span or two down the hall.  Traven positioned himself sideways in the hall so that he could easily see both Rudy and his three friends.  Behind him Thad was trying to disappear against the wall.  Rudy pushed himself up off the floor and turned a murderous gaze upon Traven.  Snarling, he started slowly towards Traven.  On the other side, the three fellows recovered from their shock and also began to advance toward him.  Traven readied himself to strike.  He knew if he waited for them to all attack at the same time, he would be in trouble.  Blaize had taught him that soetimes the best defense was to attack.  Traven figured this was one of those times.

He sprang towards the three advancing friends of Rudy without warning.  He landed with a kick to the chest of the closest one.  As the fellow fell backwards stunned, another one swung at Traven.  Traven ducked and dropped to the ground.  He immediately spun his leg around in an arc tripping both of the other students.  He then jumped away from the three on the floor towards Rudy.  Rudy took a furious swing at Traven.  Traven was too fast, however, and ducked under the swing.  He countered with a quick jab at Rudy’s jaw.  Rudy tried to duck but ended up being hit square in the eye.  Traven smiled as Rudy stumbled backward with his hand over his eye, screaming like he was going to die.  Traven’s smile was replaced by a startled yelp as he was suddenly hit from behind.  He barely had time to get his hands out to brace himself before he crashed down against the wooden floor with someone on his back.  He swung his elbow backwards, knocking the assailant from his back.  Traven grunted as the other two were immediately on top of him, pinning him to the ground before he had time to stand.

“What is going on here!” a booming voice yelled from the front of the hall.  The two fellows on Traven’s back immediately scrambled off.  Traven pushed himself up from the floor to stand beside the other young men as Headmaster Brock stomped down the hall towards them.  “Right after I give a speech about acting civilized I hear what sounds like animals banging around up here and find you young men rolling around like swine!  Now someone tell me what is going on!” Headmaster Brock demanded as he stared sternly at all of them.  Traven opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Rudy before he could say anything.

“I am very sorry about this Headmaster Brock,” Rudy began while dabbing at his puffy eye tenderly.  “We came up here to get some money before heading out, but when we started back down the hall this guy in black attacked us and tried to take our money.  We could not just let him so . . .”

“That’s not what happened,” Traven cut in.  “These fellows just walked up and started . . .”

“Enough!”  Headmaster Brock exclaimed cutting both of them off.  “I do not care what happened!  You boys can head up to my office where I will tell you what is going to happen.”  All of the young men including Thad started up the hall towards the stairs.  “Thadius, where do you think you are going?  I can see that you had nothing to do with this.  You can head back to your room.”

Thad gave Traven a sympathetic look and headed towards his room.  Traven followed the four fellows in front of him with Headmaster Brock at his heels.  Traven smiled as he watched all four of them rubbing sore parts of their bodies.  He on the other hand was feeling perfectly fine.  His moment of happiness was cut short as he thought about what might happen when he got to the headmaster’s office.  He hadn’t even been there a day, and he was already in trouble.  Hopefully Headmaster Brock would listen to what he had to say and wouldn’t punish him.  Traven continued to follow in silence as they took the stairs up to the third floor and walked up the hall until they arrived at a door with the word Headmaster engraved on it.  Headmaster Brock then opened the door motioning for all of them to go in.  After they were all inside the small room, he shut the door behind him and walked over to his desk.  All four of the young men shot angry gazes at Traven while the headmaster’s back was turned.  When Headmaster Brock reached his desk, he sat down in the chair and stared at them with a very stern expression.  All five students stood in front of the desk in silence.  Finally, Headmaster Brock opened his mouth and spoke.

“I am very disappointed in you boys,” he began in a stern tone.  “This is an academy of learning, not an alley.  When you are within these walls, I expect you to act like gentlemen.  If you must act like animals, do it somewhere else!”  He then looked directly at Rudy.  “Rudyard, I know that your father would not be pleased if he heard of this incident.  If you and your friends promise that this will never happen again, I will not inform him of it.  Nonetheless, you four will spend your free day tomorrow in your rooms thinking of how this kind of a thing can be avoided.  Is that understood?”

“Yes Headmaster Brock,” they muttered in unison.

“Good!  You may now head down to your rooms.  You four have already had enough excitement for one night.”  All four of them grumbled quietly under their breath as they walked past Traven and out of the office.  Traven then found himself standing before the headmaster’s desk alone.  Headmaster Brock shook his head before going on.  “Your name is Traven.  Am I correct?”

“Yes sir,” Traven replied.

“You just got here today.  You should be glad you made it today instead of tomorrow.  If you had not made it today, you would not be attending here.  As it is, you made it barely in time so you are a student.  Our problem now is that not only are you a peasant and showed up late, you also got into a fight immediately upon arriving.”

“I am sorry sir, but I can explain about . . .”

“There is nothing for you to explain,” the headmaster said cutting Traven off.  “I really could care less as to why you were late or how you came to be involved in that brawl.  What I do care about is that you understand that we do not like trouble makers here.  I allowed you to be enrolled here because this year we have a small group of students.  Usually I would have refused your kind.  I run a very respectable school.  Many of the wealthiest merchants and nobles send their sons to this academy.  That young man that you apparently punched in the eye is of noble blood and is the son of one of the wealthiest traders in all of Kalia.  You on the other hand are no one.

I do not know how your family got the money to send you here, but they did.  Now I do not like to kick anyone out of the academy once they have paid, but if you are involved in any other problems I will be forced to.  Out of all the students there were no fights all week until you arrived.  I do not want you blemishing my academy.  If you are involved in any other problems or even think of causing problems, I will not hesitate to throw you out of my academy.  So Traven, do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes sir,” Traven answered quietly with downcast eyes.

“Then make sure you are on your best behavior, and we should not have any more problems.  You will also spend your free day tomorrow in your room and be thankful that that is all.  I will hopefully not be seeing you in my office again young man.  Now head down to bed.”

“Yes Headmaster Brock.”

Traven walked out of the room and headed for the stairs.  He could not believe the way the headmaster had talked to him!  He hadn’t thought he would be treated any worse by the headmaster than anyone else.  Mr. Kiscin had warned him about the prejudices, but he hadn’t fully believed him until now.  He was mostly upset at the fact that the headmaster hadn’t cared about what had really happened.  He didn’t care who started fights, he just cared that there weren’t any more.  Traven knew that he’d better be extra careful if he wanted to stay at the school.  He decided to do his best and steer clear of the four troublemakers.  He would show Headmaster Brock that he was as well behaved and just as intelligent as any of the richer students.  As soon as he got to his room, he got ready for bed and went to sleep.  He hoped that today’s events weren’t an indicator of how the term was going to be.

Traven woke early the next morning.  He was used to getting up to do his exercises and wondered if it would violate the headmaster’s commands if he left his room to exercise.  He seriously thought about risking it but decided that it was not worth it.  He did not want to take the chance of getting kicked out of the academy.  Instead of going outside to practice, he just practiced stationary sword patterns in his room.  When he was done he washed up with the water in the wash basin and got dressed in his black clothes once again.  He had planned on washing his riding clothes, but he wouldn’t be able to if he was stuck in his room all day.  He sat down on his bed and waited for the breakfast bell to ring.  Traven waited for what seemed like forever, listening to his stomach growl.  At last the breakfast bell finally rang.

He waited a while before leaving his room, being careful to avoid anyone that might be a problem.  When he came out of his room, the hall was empty except for Thad who appeared to be waiting for him.  Traven shut his door and walked over to Thad.  They then headed towards the dining hall.  They arrived there at the end of the line as they had the previous evening.  After getting bowls full of a steaming porridge, they slapped butter on the top and some sugar before sitting down at the end of the table.  They ate mostly in silence with only a few comments about the food.  When they were done, they headed back up to Traven’s room.

“So what happened up in Headmaster Brock’s office,” Thad asked as soon as the door was shut.  “I have heard that Rudy and his friends are quite upset.”

“Brock just revoked our free day.  We have to stay in our rooms for the whole day.  I guess that really isn’t all that bad.  I also got warned that if it happened again, I’d be kicked out of the school.”

“What about the rest of them?”

“They were just asked not to do it again.  Oh well, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway.”  Traven shrugged and sat down on his bed.

“I am sorry about everything,” Thad said after a minute.  “I never got a chance to thank you.  Rudy has been bothering me and some of the other students since the beginning of school, but none of us was brave enough to stand up to him.  Thank you.”  Thad patted Traven’s shoulder before turning to leave.  As he was going out the door he turned back around.  “I have a book you could borrow if you want so that you are not just sitting here doing nothing.”

“That would be nice,” Traven answered with a smile.

Thad came back a few minutes later with the book.  He left it with Traven and headed out to go and buy some things he needed.  Traven read the book for a little while but eventually had to put it down.  It was a book on philosophy.  It seemed like it might be interesting if you understood what you were reading, but most of the ideas mentioned left him confused.  He decided to just lie down on his bed and rest.  He spent the rest of the day sleeping, trying to read Thad’s book, and practicing some of his exercises.  The day dragged out forever, but at last it came to an end.  When Traven went to sleep for the night, he was anxious for the morning to come and to finally be able to get his schooling underway.

He woke up early as usual and went down to the backyard of the school.  It was empty since it was so early in the morning, and there was plenty of room for Traven to do his exercises.  When he was done, he headed back up to his room.  He passed a few teachers in the halls as they were heading down for breakfast.  They all gave him strange looks as he passed.  He figured that they were not used to seeing any of the students get up to exercise early in the morning.  He knew that he would never have done it before he met Blaize.  Ever since he had started, however, if he missed practicing in the morning for more than a day or two he began to feel sluggish and lazy.  By the time he had cooled off, the breakfast bell rang.  He waited outside Thad’s door for him, and then they went down to the mess hall.

When they were done eating, Traven didn’t know what to expect.  He still didn’t know what his schedule was or what classes he would be taking.  Thad told him that all of the students in their hall followed the same schedule and to just follow him.  Traven got up after eating breakfast and followed Thad back to his room.  After Thad retrieved some books and papers, Traven followed him up to the third floor and into a classroom.  The class was filled with large, wooden desks all facing the front of the room where there was a blackboard.  The room was devoid of people except for the instructor.  Traven was happy to find that the instructor was actually Mr. Kiscin.  Mr. Kiscin greeted Thad and Traven.  He then got the books and paper out that Traven would need.  After receiving his supplies, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Thad in one of the front desks.  Pulling out the drawer under the desk, he found several extra quill pens for the bottle of ink that was already in the upper right hand corner of his desk and some extra paper.  After pulling out one of the quill pens, he leaned back in his chair and waited for class to start.

Soon other students began to slowly file into the room in small clumps of threes and fours.  When the bell rang for the second time that morning, almost all of the desks were occupied by sleepy eyed students.  Traven, however, was wide awake and ready to go.  The lesson was an overview of different products to trade in different seasons.  They then went over the biggest trade routes in Kalia, Balthus, Selba, and Cydus, including sea routes.  After Mr. Kiscin was done teaching the class, they all moved down the hall into another classroom.  This class consisted of arithmetic and penmanship while the rest throughout the day focused mainly on the value of products, including how to purchase them at low prices and sell them at high prices for a profit.  By the end of the first day, Traven’s head was swimming with newfound knowledge.

The second day of school was much the same as the first.  He was happy to find however that his classes were different and that there was even a physical fitness class.  Many of the other students didn’t seem to enjoy it, but Traven was grateful for the physical activity after the long hours spent sitting in class.  The third day was like the first and the fourth like the second.  Traven learned everything from the names of spices and herbs to the qualities and value of different types of fabric.  He began to learn why certain things were worth so much while others could be bought for next to nothing.  As the weeks went by he soon had a firm grip on what being a merchant was all about.  It really didn’t seem all that difficult to him.

Traven worked hard at his classes and behaved well.  Rudy and his friends continued to jeer at him and do small things when no one was watching.  He shrugged off the annoyance and concentrated on his classes.  He was learning many new things but the classes got to a point where they were almost all exactly the same.  The concepts were repeated with slightly different details and examples.  Traven kept up with his work and grades, but the confined academy slowly began to get to him.  He felt that he needed some kind of change.

At first the classes had been new and interesting, but as the days went by he found himself more and more often daydreaming during the lessons.  He still found the knowledge interesting, but he felt the need to be out actually doing something.  Spending all day listening to lectures and completing assignments at nights was too boring and dull.  Traven began to spend much of his time dreaming of adventures or of becoming a wealthy merchant instead of paying attention in class and to his work.  He was still able to pass all of his exams with relative ease, but he was beginning to get extremely restless.  He began practicing his exercises both in the mornings and in the evenings, but even that could not quell his need for action.  After his days with Blaize, the merchant academy just seemed dull.

Winter came with its freezing winds and snowstorms.  Traven found himself more and more often cooped up inside the school.  The merchant academy was not as fun as he had at first thought it would be.  He kept himself going, however, with the hope of a good job when the two years of schooling were over and with his adventurous daydreams.  After a week of a particularly harsh blizzard, the clouds lifted and the air was crisp and clear.  There was a cheerfulness in the air that Traven could not help but feel.  It was their free day, and he convinced Thad to roam around the city with him.  Maybe out in the city he would find something to satisfy his hunger for action.  Nothing exciting, however, happened during their trip into the city.  Thad showed Traven the royal library of Kalia and some of the interesting sculptures in the plazas.  It was still nice to have a change of scenery.  Traven returned back to the academy in the evening feeling slightly refreshed and dived back into his studies.

21

“I think I see one,” Kalista exclaimed quietly as she pointed at a large snowdrift in the distance.  The High King brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun as he peered where his daughter was pointing.

“I do not know if I can see anything over there dear,” he said apologetically.  “It is about time we head back to the palace anyway.”

“No father, I am sure that I saw something move.  Please keep watching for a little longer.”  The other men in the hunting party joined in staring at the far off snowdrift.  The glare of the sun off of the freshly fallen snow made Kalista’s eyes water as she continued to stare.  She was sure she had seen movement earlier.  She was sure of it.  Just when she began to question if maybe her mind had been playing tricks on her, a gust of wind blew into their faces and the hunter dogs began to get excited as they sniffed the air. She suddenly saw another burst of movement in front of the large snowdrift.  Looking around she smiled seeing that several of the other men in the party had also seen the movement.  “I told you.”

“Yes you did dear.  Well I waited did I not?  Now let us go and bag our first snow lion of the year!” he said excitedly.

The hunting party quickly moved to surround the beast.  Three men rode far to the left of the large snowdrift while three others rode to the right.  Another man made a wide circle around the snowdrift to the back, bringing all three hunting dogs with him.  Kalista, the High King, and his two personal bodyguards stayed in front of the drift.  She joined in with the rest of the men as they strung their bows and all began to move slowly towards the drift, tightening their noose around the snow lion.  After they had gotten a little closer to the drift, the man with the hunting dogs released them.

The three dogs immediately began to bellow as they ran for the snow drift.  As the hunting dogs got closer, Kalista waited anxiously for the lion to try to make its escape.  Suddenly a gray blur erupted from the edge of the snow drift flying in her general direction.  The hounds began to run faster as their prey was now in sight.  Kalista stared in awe as the large cat bounded over the snow away from the hounds on its large, padded feet.  The magnificent creature’s pure white coat blended in with the white snow while its black mane created a sharp contrast.  The creature’s escape from the hunting dogs, however, only brought it within the range of the hunters’ bows.  Kalista raised her bow and locked on to the swiftly moving target.  When she was sure it was close enough for her to hit, she let her arrow fly.  The pure whiteness of the snow-covered grasslands suddenly burst with bright red, but the snow lion barely flinched as it let out a snarl.  It changed directions effortlessly even with her arrow sprouting from its chest.

Kalista strung another arrow as she watched the creature head for the gap between her and the three men on her left.  Several arrows from the other men struck the powdery snow behind the bounding lion before one of the men’s arrows found its mark.  The animal kept up its speed, however, as she once again hit the target.  She did not think that the arrows were having any effect on the beast, but then realized that the hunting dogs were beginning to close the gap.  One more arrow from the hunters hit the noble creature before it was through the large gap and charging out into the white plains away from them.  Behind the snow lion the pureness of the snow was stained with an ever lengthening trail of scarlet.

Kalista watched with excitement as the hunting dogs broke the gap and began closing the distance between them and their prey faster and faster.  She saw them catch the snow lion far in the distance.  She booted her mare to join in with the men as they hurried to get closer to the struggle taking place in the distance.  Kalista stared in amazement at the scene before her as she got closer.  The hunting dogs had the beast surrounded, but it would not surrender.  Even in its weakened state, the snow lion sent a careless hunting dog sprawling backwards with a swipe of its massive paw.  It let out a ferocious growl as it tried to watch all three dogs at the same time.  The three dogs continued to circle the creature, taking turns at jumping forward to damage their prey.  Anytime one of them was too careless, it was sent sprawling backwards by the snow lion.  Kalista watched as the snow lion’s blood continued to stain the snow around it.  The loss of blood was slowly beginning to take effect as the snow lion became more and more sluggish.  He began to miss the hunting dogs with his swipes and to waiver on his feet.  The dogs sensed his weakness and began to step up their attacks.  They were soon attacking the creature incessantly.  The magnificent beast finally let out one more snarl of defiance before crashing to the trampled red snow beneath its feet.

The hunting dogs were immediately upon the defeated animal.  The hunters quickly dismounted and hurried to pull their dogs away from the dying creature.  As soon as the dogs were under control, one of the men carefully approached the snow lion and ended its lamentable wheezing.  The creature then lay silent and still in the soft snow now stained with its blood.  Kalista almost felt sad for the noble creature as she sat watching the men gather its lifeless body.  Her father had taken her hunting since she was little, so she was used to it, but she had never quite been able to get past the sadness that she always felt when she watched an animal die.  This was the first time, however, that her father had allowed her to go snow lion hunting with him.  He had always said that it was too dangerous.  Kalista glanced at the creature that was now not even dangerous enough to disturb a newborn.  She shook off her feelings of sadness and smiled as her father approached her with a congratulating grin.

“Your shooting was superb,” he announced as he reached her side.  “I have never seen better.  If not for you, I believe the snow lion would have gotten away.  I should have brought you snow lion hunting a long time ago.”

Kalista smiled as she watched her father’s beaming face.  The High King gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before he walked off and proceeded to brag about her marksmanship to the rest of the hunters.  She shook her head but could not help from feeling proud of her shooting.  She watched as the large creature was slowly pulled onto a sled by several of the hunters.  She noticed how big the snow lion actually was upon seeing several strong men all struggling just to drag the creature onto the sled.  Kalista realized that she still had her bow out and quickly put it back where it belonged.  She then donned her hood and pulled her velvet cloak lined with warm fur tighter around her body as the wind picked up.  It was going to be a very cold winter.  She watched from inside her hood as her father remounted and came trotting towards her with his guards following closely behind.

“I think it is about time for us to head back,” he said.  “I was having so much fun that I forgot how late it was getting.  The sun is almost directly over us.”  The High King paused but then continued with a smile.  “I need to get back so that I can change and eat before Baron Mikel and his son arrive this afternoon.”

“They are arriving today!” Kalista exclaimed in excitement before catching herself.

“Yes they are dear, though I did not think that you really cared when they were coming.”  The High King chuckled as he began to make his way back towards the city with his daughter following close behind.

Kalista did not really care that she had slipped.  She was too excited and nervous to worry about that.  Gavin was arriving today.  What a day it was turning out to be!  Not only had she gotten her first snow lion, but the man who might be her future husband was also arriving.  She had known today was going to be special but not this special!  After weeks of being stuck with Frieda from morning until evening, she had finally passed all of her tests and had been freed from her boring studies.  Her father had promised to take her with him snow lion hunting today in celebration of the completion of her studies.  She was so happy.  She had known that Barron Mikel and his son would be arriving sometime soon since the winter ball was only three days away but had thought it would still be a day or two since her father had not said anything about them.  She would have to get ready quickly when she got to the palace.  She wanted to look her best when the Baron and his son arrived.

Kalista held onto the reins with one hand and clasped her cloak tight with the other as their horses plodded through the deep snow towards the city.  Upon reaching the small south gate, she set both hands gently upon the reins and made sure she was sitting perfectly straight.  She had been taught by her mother that she must always look regal when in the presence of her subjects and had never forgotten it.  Kalista also noticed her father straighten slightly in his saddle as they passed into the city.  The people on the streets stepped off to the side and lowered their heads in reverence as the High King of all Kalia and his daughter, heir to the throne, rode past them.  They rode in silence down the street between their respectful subjects as they made their way to the Grand Palace.  Upon reaching the busy square, the crowd parted and bowed their heads in silence. As soon as they were within the gates of the palace, the people in the square erupted back into motion, going about their daily errands.

Kalista pulled up in the quiet palace courtyard behind her father.  Servants were immediately at their sides helping them dismount from their horses before leading the animals to the royal stables.  She followed her father up the steps and into the palace.  She let her hood drop with a smile as she felt the warmth of the palace fires warming her numb cheeks.  She began to head off towards her bed chamber when the captain of the City Watch bowed to her in passing and strode over to her father.  She stopped to listen to his report.  Over the last few weeks there had been a rash of killings within the walls of the city.  At first there had been one and then after a few days another.  The reports had been disturbing but not unheard of in such a large city.  That changed, however, when several days later there was another murder followed by another later in the week.  The city watch had been increased and an investigation started, but the murders had not ceased.  In fact, now they were happening almost every night.  Kalista was anxious to hear if the Watch had learned any information about the murderer.

“You may speak your report freely,” the High King said to the captain of the City Watch, raising him up from his knees with a flip of his wrist.

“Thank you, my High King.  I fear that I only have bad news to report.  All of the murders appear to be random.  This deranged killer has dealt equally with barmaids, children, and stablemen alike.  I am sad to report that last night an old man and his wife were killed in their very beds.  The only thing consistent about the murders is that all of the victims have their throats cut neatly with no other markings on their body, and nobody around the victims has ever even glimpsed the killer.  With last night’s double murder, the total number of victims is now up to fourteen.  I am sorry to make such a dismal report my High King.”

“It is not your fault,” the High King said as he laid a strong hand on the captain’s shoulder.  He continued, “However, this must come to an end.  “I will not have the inhabitants of this city living in fear.  I want you to take recruits from the army and double the watch at night.  You are to issue a proclamation declaring that anyone wandering the streets after midnight will be arrested.  Also add that everyone should make sure to secure their doors and windows before going to bed at night and that no one should traverse the streets after dark alone.  I want these murders to stop and the killer found.”

“Yes my High King.  It will be as you command.”  The captain then bowed before departing to fulfill the High King’s wishes.

Kalista watched sadly as her father turned with a troubled look on his face and headed slowly towards his own chambers.  She could imagine how he must be feeling.  She herself was greatly troubled by the rash of killings.  Never before had something like this happened in Calyn.  She shook her head in frustration as she made her way to her chambers.  She hoped the increase in the Watch and the new proclamation would cut down on the murders until the killer could be found.  The killer could not hide forever.  Sooner or later he would slip up and the City Watch would find him.  Kalista dismissed her thoughts about the killings as she waltzed into her room.

“I need to look perfect,” she said to her chamber maids upon entering her sitting room.  “The Baron Mikel and his son will be arriving shortly, and I want to look my best when I meet them.”

Both of her servants hurried behind her into her room with knowing smiles.  They quickly got her out of her hunting clothes and into one of her favorite dresses.  The long blue dress slashed with cream fit her perfectly and the color accentuated her bright blue eyes.  Kalista sat impatiently while her servants deftly braided her hair into one long, intricate braid with a blue ribbon woven through it.  When they were done with her hair, her servants put a simple golden necklace around her dainty neck.  She thanked them as she looked over herself in the mirror and walked over to the window.  She wanted to be able to see them before they arrived so that she could get down to the throne room just before they were presented to her father.  As she stood looking out the window, one of her servants asked her if she would like them to bring her midday meal.  She quickly refused the offer and turned back to the window.  She was too excited to eat anything.

After waiting next to the window for almost an hour, she watched eagerly as a procession finally entered the square.  It was headed by twenty soldiers.  The soldiers were followed by three carriages that were then followed by another twenty soldiers.  Kalista watched eagerly as the procession passed through the palace gates and into the front courtyard.  She wanted to wait and catch a glimpse of the occupants of the carriages as they got out but needed to hurry down to the throne room if she wanted to be there when they arrived.  She turned away from the window and with a quick gait made her way to the throne room.  Upon arriving, she found her father already sitting upon his thrown patiently waiting for the arrival of the Baron of Candus.  He brightened when he saw Kalista enter.  She quickly walked over to him and took her place, standing to the right of the throne.

“I was not sure if you would make it,” the High King whispered to his daughter.  “They are already being escorted to my presence.”

“I know that,” Kalista whispered back.  The doors to the throne room began to open, and Kalista turned to face them anxiously, but not before she noticed her father’s mischievous grin.  She watched as the large bronze doors opened to expose the waiting party.  Her heartbeat quickened at what she saw.  The Baron Mikel of Candus stood foremost of the group with his wife at his side.  Directly behind them stood Gavin, looking even more handsome than she remembered.  He was the same height as she remembered and had the same jet black hair.  He had the same hazel eyes and the same firm jaw.  He was better muscled, however, and had more of a commanding air about him.  She felt her face grow warm as all three of them approached and bowed before the High King.

“Your humble servant the Baron Mikel of Candus bows before the great High King, may he live long and prosper, in answer to his majesty’s summons.  With your majesty’s blessing, I ask that I be allowed to rise with my wife and son.”

“You may rise to speak with your High King.”

“Our humblest thanks to . . .”  Kalista tuned out the rest of the welcoming ceremony.  She did not know why it had to be so long and boring, but that was the way that it had always been.  Instead of listening to the ceremonial words, she stole glances at Gavin.  He was as good looking up close as he had been far away.  Gavin glanced up at her, and she quickly averted her eyes, hoping that he had not seen her looking at him.  When the ceremony was over, the Baron, Baroness, and their son left the throne room to rest from their journey and get cleaned up before dining with the High King for dinner.  Kalista watched them as they walked back out of the room.  She sighed as the doors were shut behind them.

“I am glad that boring ceremony is over with,” Kalista said leaving her father’s side and heading for the side entrance to the throne room.

“I am not sure if I believe you,” the High King said.  “It looked like you were enjoying staring at the Baron’s son.”  Kalista missed a step as she left the throne room.  She felt her face color as she walked down the hall back towards her chambers.  Behind her in the throne room she could clearly hear her father chuckling cheerfully.

22

Kalista looked at herself in her bedchamber mirror, and was greeted by her radiant reflection.  Her chamber maids had done a beautiful job with her hair.  It was pulled up on her head in a pile of golden curls with a few curls straying from the rest to frame her face.  A sapphire sat on her forehead dangling from the silver thread that helped to hold her hair up.  Around her neck was a silver chain cascading with firedrops.  She took a step back from the mirror to admire the dress that had been made for her to wear to the ball.  The dress stretched all the way to the floor.  It was made of bright blue silk and fanned out from her small waist.  At the waist, the dress was clasped by a thin belt of small silver flowers linked together.  From the long, tight sleeves of her arms, white lace fell to envelope the tops of her hands.

She turned from the mirror with a smile on her face.  She looked absolutely gorgeous.  Tonight would be her big chance to get to know Gavin better and win his love.  The only times that she had seen him in the past few days were at dinner.  She had not been able to talk to him, however, because he sat far from her, and her father and the Baron carried most of the dialogue of the conversations.  Tonight she was guaranteed to have him for almost the entire ball since he was her escort.  After tonight he would be hers forever.  At least that is what she hoped.  One of her chamber maids had bought a perfume for her that was guaranteed to enchant any man.  She pulled out the small bottle of the sweetly scented perfume and dabbed some on her wrists and neck.  After putting the bottle down, she checked in the mirror once more to make sure that everything was perfect.  She then gave her golden curls one more pat before leaving her bedchamber and walking through the sitting chamber and out into the hall.

At the bottom of the stairs of the southwest tower, she found Gavin waiting to escort her to the dining hall.  He looked absolutely dashing in his white pants and dark blue shirt.  His silk shirt, almost completely covered on the front in beautifully embroidered golden thread, seemed to shimmer in the light of the chandelier as Kalista gracefully descended the staircase.  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Gavin stared back at her for a moment before snapping out of his daze and offered her his arm, which the Princess gracefully accepted.  He then led her slowly towards the grand banquet hall.  Kalista walked alongside her dashing suitor with a pleasant smile.

They were soon seated at the head of the banquet table just to the side of the seat reserved for the High King.  The Baron and Baroness were on the other side of the chair.  After a few moments the High King made his grand entrance, and everyone rose to their feet.  After thanking all for coming, he sat down.  The High King then clapped his hands.  Everyone resumed their seats and the food began to flow into the immense room.  The silent air was soon full of melodious chatter and the clanking of silver on china.

The servers brought in foods from all over the land.  There were dishes from Balthus, Selbus, and the far parts of Kalia.  There were also many traditional dishes from Calyn itself.  There were spiced wines to drink and creamed soups to spoon.  There were breads and fruits.  But the best of all were the meats.  There was roast, ham, chops, turkey, duck, fish, and lobster to name a few.  The vigilant servers were ever ready to slice off whatever the guests wanted.  The grand table soon became a smorgasbord of brilliant colors and smells.

Some of the guests devoured great quantities of food while others seemed content with just a bowl of soup and a freshly baked roll.  Kalista was one who ate little.  She had been quite hungry earlier but was nervous of eating a lot in front of Gavin.  She decided it would be best to only eat a little now, and later she could request some of the leftovers for a late night snack.  She was immensely enjoying the aroma and atmosphere of the table.  Tonight, all worries were forgotten as the guests lost themselves in the food, drink, and cheerful conversation.  Kalista was slightly jealous to see everyone at ease and so happy.  She was quite happy but still had butterflies in her stomach.  She really had not had the chance to talk much with Gavin.  She was anxious for the opportunity to get to know him better.  Her chance would come once the food was taken away and later when the festivities moved to the ballroom.

While taking a furtive glance at Gavin she saw her father’s beaming face watching her and quickly turned back to her food. She sliced another small chunk of ham from the thin slice on her plate and popped it into her mouth.  Her mind floated off with the anticipation of what the rest of the night would bring.  As her thoughts returned to the present, she noticed that even the most avid of the eaters were beginning to slow down.  The High King also noticed and signaled for the servers to take the food away and refill all of the glasses.  The guests would now have time to let the food settle and to talk before they would all follow the High King into the ballroom.  Kalista shifted in her chair and began a conversation with Gavin.  She knew her chance had come at last and had been practicing what she was going to say for the last couple of days.  She hoped that when their conversation was over and they headed out to the dance floor, Gavin would be all hers.

* * * * *

The High King smiled grandly once again as his future son-in-law turned toward his beautiful Kalista and gave her his full attention.  The High King had noticed them stealing glances at one another during the whole meal and was sure that by the time the night ended nothing would stop the marriage.  The High King chuckled and began to pay attention to his new in-laws, leaving Kalista and Gavin engrossed in whatever they were talking about.

After listening to several amusing stories about hunting trips and lost bows, the High King decided it was time for the dance to begin.  He excused himself from the conversation and gathered his dignity.  Standing from his seat, he waited as the room quickly quieted down.

“Honorable Guests and Friends,” he began.  “Let the annual Winter Ball begin!”

At his cue, the large doors connecting the dining hall to the ballroom were swung wide open, and the guests were bathed in light and music as the orchestra began to play.  The High King walked nobly into the ballroom and was quickly followed by everyone else.  He sat down in his throne and with the nod of his head, the orchestra changed from their intro into a magnificent waltz.

Soon the room was full of swirling dresses and even grander smiles.  The High King sat contentedly in his lavish throne watching his subjects enjoy themselves.  Balls always had a way of making him cheerful.  Seeing the happiness of others under the brightly lit chandeliers chased away his worries, at least for a while.  As the night went on he was even happier to notice that Gavin and Kalista were still dancing together with smiles on their faces.  They had not stopped to rest since the ball began.  Things were working out wonderfully!  The High King settled back in his chair but then jerked back forward.  Gavin and Kalista had stopped dancing.  What had happened?  After watching for a moment, he settled back down with a mischievous grin on his face as Gavin and Kalista walked into a private side room, hand-in-hand, with smiles still on their faces.  Things were working out better than wonderfully!

* * * * *

Traven peeked over a fountain that stood towards the middle of the grand square and watched as another noble family arrived for the grand ball.  He had been watching all evening as the endless line of carriages rolled up to the palace, were relieved of their owners, and continued on.  Earlier in the evening, the most elect had arrived for the feast, and now many others were arriving for the grand winter ball.

All of the students of the academy were free of their classes.  They had finished their winter exams and had a week off before the next phase of classes would begin.  Traven had heard of the grand ball from many of the wealthy students of the academy and had come to get a look at all of the excitement.  He had been studying so hard for the exams that he had not had any time to enjoy himself for a while.  His monotonous studies had only been interrupted by several trips into different parts of the city on his free days.  After watching for a while longer, Traven heard movement behind him.  Turning around, he saw the City Watch coming into the square.  He knew that he was not supposed to be wandering the city after dark and decided to slip up closer to the palace to avoid any unnecessary problems.  He nonchalantly made his way over to a group of servants that were just outside the palace to the side of the front gate.

There were servants from many different households, and no one was paying attention to them.  Traven smiled as the Watch made a sweep of the square and then headed off down another street.  He then turned and looked up at the palace.  He had never been this close to the palace before.  It truly was amazing, and from here he could even make out the music being played deep within.  It would have been amazing to be in there dancing, but he definitely was not on the invitation list.  He decided that he better head home before it got too much later and turned to leave.

“You in the black,” snapped a man who had just gotten out of a carriage.  “Hurry up!”  Traven realized the man was talking to him and quickly walked over without thinking.  “Take this to the conductor of the orchestra immediately.”

Traven wanted to say that he was not a servant, but before he could make the words come out the man had already gotten back into the carriage.  Traven looked down at the slip of paper that the man had given him and wondered what he should do.  After debating for a few moments, he decided that he might as well deliver the message.  If anyone tried to stop him he could just tell them he was delivering a message.  Besides, this would probably be his only chance to ever see the inside of the palace!  With servants from so many different houses, no one would be able to tell that he really didn’t belong to any of them.

Traven took a deep breath and hurried through the open gate and across the front courtyard.  As he walked up the steps of the palace, he lifted the small paper up in front of him and the doormen waived him past.  He then found himself in the grand hall of the palace.  It was even more splendid inside than it was outside.  The ceiling soared far above overhead.  In its center a large chandelier with numerous crystals dangled.  In front of him two immense stairways led up to the second floor on either side of the hall.  A set of doors also led off to the right and left of the large front room.  Several large tapestries draped down from the walls showing off the brilliant crest of the royal family.  Traven stared at it all in awe.  He finally snapped out of it and decided to hurry and complete his errand.  Looking around he was not sure where to go.  He was about to panic but then his senses returned. He realized that all he had to do was follow the music.  As he continued straight down the hall, the music grew louder and louder.  On either side of him golden candlesticks curved out from the walls to brightly light the hall.  In small shelves cut into the walls all kinds of treasures were displayed.  There were antique pottery and ornately jeweled statues among other things.  Traven tried to take it all in as he continued down the hall in the direction of the music.

After turning down a large corridor, he found himself right outside of the immense ballroom.  Traven took a deep breath and stepped into the exuberance.  His senses were immediately assaulted with flashing colors, warmth, and sound.  The brightly lit room was full of swirling couples taking advantage of the glorious music.  Many others lined the walls of the room content to cheerfully talk and enjoy the atmosphere.  The large domed ceiling was painted a peaceful blue with wispy clouds that gave the impression of a spring day.  At the far end of the room he could see the High King sitting in an elaborate thrown.  Traven could not help the large smile that split his face.  It was all so splendid.

After locating the orchestra Traven cautiously made his way along the wall all the way around to the director, careful not to disturb anyone.  When he arrived at the dignified man’s side, Traven handed him the note quickly with a small bow and began making his way back around to the entrance before anyone noticed him.  When he was almost there, somebody snatched a hold of his arm.  With dread he turned to receive whatever punishment necessary for being in the palace without permission.  What met his eyes was a startling yet pleasant surprise.  It was only an attractive young woman.  She curtsied with a warm smile and pulled him out onto the floor.  He tried to explain that he was not a guest, but she just giggled and kept leading him farther into the swirling crowd.  He tried to resist, but the music and excitement stopped his feeble resistance.  Before he knew what had happened, he found himself spinning around with the attractive young woman to the rhythm of the song.

When the music paused Traven tried to excuse himself, but the girl would not let him go.  As the music started back up, she pulled him in and started dancing again.  His nervousness soon floated away on the music, and he smiled as the sweet scent of the attractive girl enveloped him.  He allowed himself to be lost in the music for a while before he remembered that he did not belong at the ball.  After a few more songs he was finally able to get away from the young woman.  He wished that he could have enjoyed the dances more.  She was attractive, and he enjoyed dancing, but Traven couldn’t stop worrying what would happen to him if he was caught.  As he looked for the entrance, he found that he was now almost on the opposite side of the ballroom.

His astonished gaze also found Rudy entering the ballroom with his parents!  Now Traven knew he was going to be caught.  If Rudy saw him, he would definitely have problems.  Looking around worriedly, he realized that along the wall behind him there were several doors.  Hoping that they were unlocked, he hurried to try and open the closest one.  The doorknob clicked and the door swung in easily.  He slipped into the room quickly with a big sigh of relief and shut the door behind him.  It was only a small sitting room.  He quickly started off for the door on the other side of the small room hoping that it led out to the main hall.  Upon reaching the door, he realized that he was not alone in the room.

Turning from the door, his gaze fell upon an extremely fair young woman.  Her beauty far surpassed that of the other young lady with whom he had just danced.  In fact, this young woman’s beauty was not matched by any of the women he had seen in the ball.  She wore an exquisite blue dress that fanned out from her waist to cover the sofa that she was perched on.  Her dainty neck was draped with priceless firedrops and her delicate face was framed by golden curls.  Traven found her staring back at him with a quizzical smile and mesmerizing bright blue eyes that left his mouth dry.  He felt his legs go numb.

“F-f-forgive, please intrusion my.  I mean that sorry I am for. . .”  Luckily his legs finally moved into action quicker than his tongue.  Ripping his gaze from the beautiful young woman’s eyes, he slipped out the door and happily found himself in a main hall.  Breathing heavily, he quickly trotted down the hall and found the main entrance.  Leaving the palace, he was greeted by the biting cold of a winter night against his burning face.  The cold did not bother him nor was it noticed.  The only thing that occupied his mind as he hastily made his way back to the academy was the constant image of a stunningly beautiful young lady with bright blue eyes.

23

Traven arose early as always and ran through his exercises.  When he was finished with his morning routine, he sat down on the edge of his bed to think.  Almost all of the students were away from the academy spending the short vacation with their families.  Traven was one of the few that lived too far away to visit his family.  He decided that if he was not able to visit his grandparents, he could at least write them.  He started writing a letter to them, but his mind kept wandering off to the royal palace, the grand ball, and the beautiful girl he had accidently walked in upon.

He finally gave up on the letter when he saw that he could not focus enough to finish it and decided to go for a walk in the city.  He had been cooped up for so long in the academy studying that he really hadn’t had a chance to explore the city very well.  Besides several short excursions into the city, he had spent all of his time within the academy’s walls.  Grabbing his heavy cloak and sword, Traven left his room and the unfinished letter and headed outside.  Walking down the front steps of the entrance to the academy, he decided that he would head over to the docks.  He had never been down there before and had heard that there were lots of things to see from other places.  He headed off across the great square excited to see something new and different.

“Stop immediately!” screamed a shrill voice.  “You in the black, stop!”  Traven turned around shocked.  “You must follow me!”  Traven stared as the short, balding old man hurried past him and began across the square.  The old man had not gone far when he turned around and pointed his walking staff at him.  “Hurry up!”

Traven had no idea who the man was or what he wanted but decided that he might as well follow him and find out.  He ran to catch up to the man and followed in silence.  They were soon through the crowd and across the square.  Traven followed the old man up the large stairs that led into the grand library of Kalia.  He had been there a few times with Thad and had admired it from the outside many times.  It contained a vast collection of books and old manuscripts and was reported to be the largest library ever created.

The old man was soon far down the main hall.  Traven stayed close on his heels and pulled up as the old man stopped at a door at the end of the hall.  He had never been this far back before.  The old man looked around cautiously, snatched a key from a pocket on the inside of his robe, and deftly unlocked the door.  He then slitted the door open and squeezed in.  As soon as he was inside he beckoned Traven in.  Traven slipped inside quickly, wondering what was going on.  As soon as he was clear, the old man shut the door and locked it again.  With a loud sigh of relief, he put the key away and smiled.

“You can never be too careful,” he said pointing at Traven.  “A careful man lives long.  Then again some say that a careful man never really lives at all.  Of course that is ridiculous since being careful does not mean that you cannot have adventure.  And what more could a person want than . . .”  The old man trailed off as he realized that Traven was quite confused.  “Sorry, sometimes I get carried away.  Let me introduce myself.  I am Philosopher Cornelius Malcolm Studell of Kalia’s Knowledge Academy.”  The old philosopher then bowed.  “At your service.”

Philosopher Studell then straightened up and waited patiently for him to speak.  Traven just stared back at him still confused.  At least now he knew who the old man was, but he still had no idea what he wanted.  What confused him was that the philosopher seemed to be waiting for him to say something so at last he did.

“Why did you ask me here?” Traven inquired.  The old man gave a start and then started laughing.

“You are right.  I asked you here,” he said while still laughing.  “I forgot!”  Traven could not help smiling as the old man continued laughing hysterically.  Finally he calmed down and wiped the tears from his eyes.  “Sorry.  Sometimes I just get excited and carried away.  Have a seat please.”

Traven took the seat that the philosopher offered in front of a large desk.  He peered around the room as Studell sat down in front of him on the other side of the desk.  Traven realized that the room was actually a private study.  All around the room there were crooked towers of books and old manuscripts.  In the very center of the small room was the large oak desk, which surprisingly enough had nothing on it.  He returned his attention to the philosopher who was clearing his throat.

“Oh yes.  I was taking a walk and meditating on some very interesting theories of mine when you walked past me.  At that very moment, the sunlight glinted off the hilt of your sword and seemed to be sucked in by the stone on the hilt.”  The philosopher paused with a look of excitement and anticipation.  “May I see your sword?”

So that was the reason.  He wanted to see the sword.  Traven could understand why someone would want to see it but didn’t see why it was such a big deal to the philosopher.  Traven unsheathed it and laid it lengthwise on the desk in front of him.  “Here it is.  Something special isn’t it?”

“Shhhh,” Studell said with an intense look in his eyes.  Pulling out large eyeglasses from another pocket in his robe, Studell donned them and began to intently study the sword.  After inspecting the sword from top to bottom, Studell turned back to Traven.  “When was the last time that you oiled this and sharpened it?”

“Never,” Traven replied.

“Ah ha, just as I thought.”  He then sank back into silence and began to intently stare at the dark blue stone in the hilt of the sword.  After a few moments, he pulled a candle from the corner of his desk and ever so slowly drew it closer to the stone.  “Watch closely,” he said without looking up.

Traven leaned over the desk to get closer and watched as Studell continued to slowly bring the candle closer to the stone.  Traven’s mouth dropped as the flame of the candle began to bend in the direction of the stone when it was still a small distance away.  Studell held the candle still, and a smile spread across his face as the flame continued stretching towards the stone until it was long enough to touch its surface.  Studell then blew the flame out.  Traven stared in amazement as the stone continued to shine slightly for a few moments without the light of the flame.  It then darkened again, and Philosopher Studell set the sword down gently on the desk.

“Now I am sure of it,” the philosopher said confidently.  “This is definitely a might stone.  And since the sword is in such perfect condition, it must be ambience wrought.  This sword is ancient and appears brand new!  This is amazing.  I saw an ambience sword once many years ago, but this is the first time I have seen a might stone!”  Traven watched as the old man shook with excitement.

“What is a might stone?” Traven asked.  Blaize had already told him that the sword was ambience made, but he had said nothing about the stone.  The philosopher sat up straighter and began to explain.

“Well son, many years ago a group of the great wielders got together and gave up their lives to make the might stones.  Not many were made, so they are all very special.  In fact, as legend has it only twelve were made.  Each one contains the essence of the wielder who gave up his life to create it and contains special powers.  The stones are said to have different powers depending on the certain desires of the wielders who sacrificed themselves to make them.”

“Why did they give up their lives to create them?” Traven inquired.

“Well, Faldor, he was one of the greatest of all, had a dream about the importance of the stones, and so they were made.”

“Why were they important?”

“Actually I do not know.  All of this happened so long ago, and there are very few records left.  Most people don’t know anything at all about the ambience and those that do usually believe that the ambience is just something made up.  I am not sure how much of the stories I believe, but I know that there is some truth in them because of the special artifacts that have lasted until now and because of the writings that have been found.  And now at least I know that there is some truth in the might stone story since we are looking at one right now!”

With the talk of stones with special powers, Traven had unconsciously closed his hand around the amber stone hanging around his neck.  He realized what he was doing and pulled the stone from around his neck.  “What about this?” he asked handing the stone to Studell.  Studell’s eyes widened as the stone touched his hand and he felt the warmth that emanated from it.

“This is one too!” he shouted excitedly.  “I cannot believe that we have two of the twelve in this very room!  How did you come to have them?  Are you a treasure hunter?”  Traven smiled at Studell’s question.  Then he realized how strange it was that he had two of them in his possession.

“I am not a treasure hunter.  This was my father’s, and I stumbled across the sword on my way from Oak Tree to Calyn,” Traven answered.  With that out of the way he had questions of his own.  “You said that the stones had power.  What do these stones do?”

“I have no idea,” the philosopher said with a frown.  “The only thing that I know about the stones is what I told you.  What I do know is that you should take good care of them.  They are definitely special.  It is sad that so little information is left from the ages of the great wielders.  So little is known.  I have spent a great deal of my life studying the past, and I suppose that I know more than most on the subject.  I have read all of the existing manuscripts and even those in the old tongue.  Sadly though, I still only know bits and pieces.”

Traven stared at the stone that was back in his hand and slowly tucked it back in his shirt with new found respect for the stone that he had always known to be special.  The amazement he had felt was beginning to be replaced more and more by curiosity.  Might stones, magic, lost history!  Traven decided that he really didn’t need to see the docks, so he asked the philosopher a question that he hoped would lead to a lengthy discussion.  “So the stones were made by the ambience.  What exactly is the ambience?”  Traven was happy to see the philosopher’s countenance brighten at an opportunity to share what he knew.

“As I said, nobody knows much, but I will gladly share what I do know.  The ambience, well now . . .”  Traven leaned forward and listened with interest as the philosopher began to unfold what he knew.  “. . . it is what we would call magic.  But it really is not magic.  It is just powers above what we as mere humans understand.  Our minds are very finite you know.

“The basic idea of the ambience is creating something ethereally and then wrapping tangible elements around it to bring it into our reality.  Much more than that, I cannot say.  It is pulling something beyond our five senses into our normal realm.

“I can explain a bit more of its properties however.  Supposedly, the power to manipulate the ambience is an inborn ability.  It does not, however, manifest itself until a certain age.  Accounts vary, but as far as I can tell the power was manifested sometime between late adolescence and early adulthood.  Once the powers had been manifested, the wielder could use them at will.  With them, he could do many incredible things.

“A wielder could see the future.  He knew what was going to happen before it happened.  I suppose that is why the might stones were created.  Faldor had seen that they would be needed through his dreams.  And stones were not the only things that were created by the great wielders of old.  Weapons, like your sword, jewelry, and other artifacts were made.  You have to understand however that not many things were actually made.  It was incredibly difficult for a wielder to create something solid that would last.  That is why there are so few relics left to us.  It is not that we cannot find them.  It is because there were not that many created in the first place.

“The High King, may he live long and prosper, does have several pieces of jewelry and some other interesting artifacts in the halls of the palace.  They are worth much, for they never tarnish nor break.  Your sword is worth more than you know boy!  The ambience created some wonderful things.  It also could be used to heal, although that too was apparently something difficult.  With the ambience the wielders could heal far past what our physicians do now.  Some say that the ambience could bring those on the very edge of death, yea, even the dead back to life.

“But not all of the powers of the ambience were used for good.  Just like all power, the ambience could be wielded for good or evil.  With the ambience the dark wielders entrapped the souls of men in the ambience-created bodies of horrific beasts.  The ambience was used many times to deceive and destroy.

“The ambience is the power to create things, but it was often used to destroy.  The wielders could most easily create elemental things such as fire and ice, lightning and water; things that only lasted for a brief moment.  But what they did in that brief moment had much longer consequences.  A bolt of lightning could destroy in an instant a cottage that had taken much time and work to build.  A wisp of flame could rapidly spread, destroying everything in its path.  The power of the ambience certainly was wonderful and terrible.  Many great cities and lives were destroyed thanks to the ambience.

“In the hands of the dark wielders the ambience was a weapon beyond compare.  Nothing could stop it.  Only other wielders could fight back.  In the end, the wielders killed themselves off, leaving much destruction behind.  The ambience was a very great power indeed, both for evil and for good.”

“Tell me more of the wielders,” Traven requested excitedly.  He had never really imagined that things such as this really existed, even if it had been so long ago.

“Well, they in themselves were quite extraordinary.  It is said that they could see for hundreds of miles and hear a twig snap in the middle of a tremendous battle.  They talked with the wind, reacted before things happened, and had incredibly long lives, living several life spans.  They were almost, immortal.  Or at least that was what many thought.  They do not think that anymore I imagine,” Studell smiled at his wittiness and continued on.    “In the end, the great wielders met the same fate as us all.  Some died of old age, while the rest died in battle.  Great armies of men and elves following the great wielders into battle also perished.”

“Elves?” Traven interrupted.  “There were really elves?”  As a child, he, like so many other children, had been told that the elves would come, take him away, and eat him if he behaved badly.  People also often blamed misplaced items on the mischievous elves.  They were said to be small and quick with long curved teeth.  As a child he had been terrified of them until he was old enough to know that they did not exist.

“I am not sure.  Almost all stories and legends hint at truth.  Some of the most ancient manuscripts do mention them, but if there were elves I do not believe them to be how we imagine them.  Several writings mention them in the battles of the great wielders.  Many years ago I read a particularly old manuscript in the old tongue that described them.  Only part of it was still readable, but from what I could make out the elves were not so different from humans.  Though, they did have special abilities like the wielders.  They were said to have heightened senses, were very loyal, and the manuscript even referred to them as ‘Children of the Wielders.’  It is a shame that the manuscript was not fully intact.  It would have been interesting to read more.

“I do not know if there really was a magical race of elves or not.  If you believe in them you might as well believe in the galdaks.”  Seeing the blank look on Traven’s face, Studell elaborated.  “The galdaks were supposedly another race that once lived amongst humans but were also destroyed long ago.”

“All of this is so amazing,” Traven uttered impulsively.  “I never imagined that there were so many things like this that I didn’t know about!  Maybe the rumor of a wielder raising an army in Balthus is really true.”

“If there is one thing that I have learned in my long years of studying it is that we do not know anything.  There is so much left to be discovered and so much left to be learned.  Some are happy to go along living the same lives as those before them, but others were born for greater things.  My family was not happy when I left the farm to study, but my thirst for knowledge has always caused me problems.  And as for the rumors of a wielder in Balthus, it is just a rumor.  All of the wielders died long ago, and most of what I have told you probably is not true.  I am sure that there were wielders, but as to the extent of their power I think most of the writings blow their powers out of proportion.  I think it is more legend than fact.  In fact, one of the great wielders supposedly buried treasure out in the marshes of Calyn.  There are many rumors and legends out there.

“As I have already said though, behind every legend or rumor, there is a spark of truth.  It is a fact that there is a large army of thieves in Balthus, and that is why the High King is strengthening his army.  In life, you will hear many fantastical and astounding things, what is important is sorting out the fact from the fiction.”

With that, the philosopher was done.  He thanked Traven for his attention and for letting him see the sword and stones.  He admonished Traven once again to take good care of the stone and sword.  He also told him that he was always welcome.  Traven thanked him for everything and then left, leaving the old philosopher alone with his books.

Traven’s thoughts swam with all of the things that he had learned from Philosopher Studell.  He began to wonder more and more if there really wasn’t magic anymore.  After all, he supposedly had two magical stones in his possession.  With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he crossed the square.  Passing in front of the palace, he felt a peculiar sensation.  He felt strongly that he was being watched from above.  Looking upward, his gaze came to rest on a window up in the southwest tower.  While he was staring at it the sensation suddenly vanished.  Shaking his head, Traven continued on to the academy.  All of the excitement, royal balls and talk of magic, must be getting to him.  Soon he was back in the academy and into reality, but his thoughts continued to float back to what the philosopher had said and his imagination began to soar to new heights.

24

Kalista slowly opened her eyes and sat up in her bed.  With a sigh she sank back down onto her luxurious pillow.  She felt so wonderful.  Her thoughts drifted back to the night before and how wonderful it had been.  She had enjoyed her time immensely with Gavin.  Her love for him had only grown as she came to know him better.  He definitely was charming and handsome, but that was not all.  After they had danced for what seemed like an eternity of bliss, they had gone into a small, side room to rest and talk.  That is when she really came to admire Gavin.  She had found him to be quite an intelligent person and very interesting.

He was not just a pretty face who hung to his father’s coattails.  As the subject had turned from royalty to politics and the possibility of a war, she had found that Gavin was very levelheaded.  He was also very confident but not arrogant.  Just as her father thought, she too agreed that Gavin had the qualities to be a great leader.  She would not mind ruling alongside someone as talented as he.

They had talked far into the night.  They had lost track of time and by the time they went back to the ball, many of the guests had already set out for their homes.  The only time that they had been separated the whole night was when Gavin had left to get some spiced wine for them to drink while they talked.  While she had anxiously been waiting for him to return, a young man had stumbled into the room.  He had been dressed all in black, except for a bright red cloth on his left arm.  He had actually been quite handsome, but the young man did not have the commanding air about him that Gavin did.  In fact he had babbled something that Kalista could not make sense of, and then he had almost tripped over his own legs as he hurried out of the room.  She guessed that he had been startled or embarrassed.

She was sure that Gavin would never do anything like that.  He was always so calm and kingly in his manner.  Later in the afternoon, she was going to meet up with Gavin again.  They were going to have a little archery contest.  Somehow Gavin had found out that Kalista was an accomplished archer, and he had said that he wanted to find out if it was really true.  Kalista was happy for the opportunity to show off.  It would give her a chance to spend more time with Gavin, and it would also give her another opportunity to impress him.

Finally deciding that she better get out of bed, Kalista rose up and walked over to her window.  Throwing back the curtains, she was surprised to find that the statues in the square were casting no shadows.  It was already midday.  She must have slept in longer than she had realized. She called for her chamber maids who hurried in and began getting her ready for the day.  Kalista had not imagined that it was so late in the day, but considering how late she had been up, she did not feel bad for sleeping in.  When she was ready, her lunch was brought to her.  She ate slowly and then headed down to the back courtyard.

Gavin was already there waiting patiently for her along with her archery instructor.  Gavin was wearing a light blue cloak with the hood down.  Kalista watched the two men from a distance.  They were joking around about something when they realized that she had arrived.  They both quieted down immediately and turned to greet her with a small bow.

“We thought you might have chickened out and were not going to come,” said Pegwin with a wink.

“I am right on time, as always,” Kalista replied with a smile.  “I suppose Gavin came early to practice for the competition.”

“I just barely arrived, your highness,” Gavin said mocking a shocked look.  “I cannot believe that you would accuse me of trying to take an unfair advantage.”  Pegwin looked on with a smile as the two bantered back and forth.

“All right you two, enough of that.  Let us get this underway.”  Kalista smiled as Pegwin laid out the rules for the match.  Gavin listened intently to the instructions.  Kalista had already heard these instructions many times and contented herself with watching Gavin as he listened to the instructions.  He had a focused look on his face, and she could tell that he was taking this match very seriously.  When Pegwin finished with his instructions, he announced that Gavin would be going first.  Gavin picked up his bow and stepped up to the shooting line.

“I am sorry that I am going to have to win,” Gavin said as he cocked an arrow, “But I cannot let you win just because you are the Princess.”  Kalista watched with a smile as the arrow flew through the air and thunked into the bull’s-eye.  The next arrow hit the outer line of the bull’s-eye and the last three came to rest in various places in the bull’s-eye.  Gavin stepped back from the line with a smile.  “Your turn my Princess,” he said with a confident smile.

Kalista stepped up to the line and concentrated.  She had played with the idea of letting Gavin win but had decided against it.  It would be a lot more fun beating him.  Shutting out everything around her, including her feelings for Gavin, she focused on the target and let loose her first arrow.  The arrow found its way to the center of the second target.  Her next four arrows soon accompanied the first in a neat, small cluster in the bull’s-eye.  Kalista turned with a wide smile on her face and found Gavin with his eyes wide.

“I am sorry that I had to beat you Gavin, but I could not let you win just because your father is a baron.”  Pegwin started laughing in the background, but Gavin had already composed himself.

“You shot masterfully my Princess,” Gavin said with a bow.  “I must admit your superiority with a bow.  Your father was not exaggerating when he spoke of your skill.”  Gavin then shook his head, “I believe that this is the first time I have lost any contest to a lady.”

“Do not worry,” Kalista replied.  “It will not be the last!”

“Next time we will have a sword fight, and we will see who wins that one.”  They both laughed as they handed their bows to Pegwin and thanked him.  He nodded and then went and gathered up the arrows, leaving Kalista and Gavin alone.

“Would you like to accompany me on a walk through the gardens?” Kalista asked.

“I would love to,” Gavin answered.  The Princess took the arm that Gavin offered her, and they headed off down the path that led to the gardens.  After a short walk, they passed through the arch in the tall shrub wall that surrounded the entire gardens.  Since it was wintertime, the gardens were not full of color like they were normally, but Kalista still found the snow covered trees and the tranquility of the gardens very refreshing.  It was one of the only places where she could walk around freely without an escort of guards, and when she was there she had always liked to pretend that she was outside of the palace walls in the countryside.  Of course this time she was not alone, but that did not bother her at all considering the company.  After walking quietly for a while, Kalista broke the silence.

“I have always loved walking through these gardens.  When I was a child, I did not like the gardens in the winter, I used to wait anxiously for spring to come so that all of the flowers would come into bloom once again.  During winter the gardens always seemed so sad and lonely.  It was only several years ago that I realized that the gardens held a stark beauty during these winter months.  I found that they were not lonely but serene.  Not sad but pure.  I still enjoy them the most in the spring, but I have learned to love them year round.”

“That is an interesting way of looking at it,” Gavin said gazing around the gardens.  “When I was a kid I used to love playing outside right after it snowed.  It was so cold but so clean.  I was just thinking about the lack of flowers, but I should have noticed the beauty of the snow.  I guess that is one of my flaws.  Sometimes I am so intent on what could be better that I forget to enjoy what is already there.  I had been thinking that I did not like winter because it slows everything down, but now I realize that if it were not for the winter I would not have had the opportunity to have this conversation with you.  Now that I am thinking about it, there are many great things about winter.”  He then paused before continuing.  “If it were not for the cold, you would not be walking so close to me.”

Kalista blushed slightly and looked forward as they continued on through the garden.  They walked on in silence for several minutes before Gavin began to talk once again.  She listened intently and continued to hold on tight to his arm as they made their way back out of the gardens.  She dropped the hood of her fur cloak with her free arm as they entered the palace and were greeted by its warmth.

“I would enjoy talking with you all day Kalista, but I need to be present at a meeting that the High King is going to hold with my father.”

“Do not worry.  I will not keep you any longer,” Kalista said as she pulled her arm out of his.  “Thank you for accompanying me through the gardens.”

“Thank you for letting me,” Gavin said with an endearing smile.  He then bowed to her and kissed her hand.  “You were definitely right about how losing to you in the archery match would not be the last time I lose to a lady.”

“Why do you say that?” Kalista queried.

“Because I am losing something once again to a lady,” Gavin said with a smile.

“And what is that?” Kalista inquired.

“My heart.”  With that, Gavin turned and was soon around a corner and out of sight.  Kalista stood motionless for a few moments as what he had just said sunk in.  If she was not mistaken, and she knew she was not, the Baron’s son had just professed his love to her.  She half walked, half floated up the stairs and back into her room.  Things were better than she had imagined.  The ball the night before must have had as much of an effect on Gavin as it had had on her.

Kalista removed her cloak and gloves, handing them to her chambermaids.  She then dismissed them and closed the door.  She walked over to her window and stared out over the grand square.  Maybe she really would end up marrying Gavin soon.  If things continued to flow so smoothly, Kalista would not be against a marriage in the spring.  The Princess now knew that Gavin would not be against it either.  She was feeling things that she had never really felt before.  She had experienced crushes but had never felt as she did now.  It was an interesting and exciting feeling.  Maybe it really was time for her to get married.

Kalista’s thoughts were pulled away from marriage and drawn to the square as a flash of black caught her eye.  A young man, all in black, was crossing the square from the direction of the library.  As he got closer, she could make out the bright red cloth tied around his left arm.  She was certain that it was the same young man that had walked in on her the night before at the winter ball.

The only thing that was different about him was the way that he moved.  Kalista had gotten the impression the previous night that he was somewhat clumsy, but she now had to change her mind.  The young man walked with a measured gait and a fluid grace.  She stared down at him as he passed the palace below her window.  Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks.  Kalista gazed around the square to see why he had stopped but didn’t see anything unusual.  As she looked back at him, she was startled to find that he was looking straight up, directly at her.

She jumped back from the window as a small gasp escaped her throat.  How could he know that I was looking at him?  After a few moments she peeked back out the window.  The man in black was nowhere to be found.  Kalista’s heart began to slow back down as she turned away from the window.  It had to have been just a coincidence, but for some reason she was sure that he had been looking directly at her.  She shook away the thought and walked from her bed chamber and out into her waiting room.

Sitting down near the fireplace her thoughts returned to Gavin, and she began to discuss the pros and cons of marriage with her ladies in waiting.  It was times like these when she really missed having her mother to talk with, but she was thankful for the company and advice that her ladies in waiting were always more than eager to give her.  She lost track of time once again as the fire behind her flickered with excitement, just like her heart.

25

Traven arose early and ran through his exercises.  He then washed up and headed down to breakfast.  After eating, he went back up to his room, retrieved his materials, and headed to class.  With only five days back into classes, he was already tired of studying.  He did enjoy learning new things, but didn’t enjoy his assignments and tests.  The material was not really all that hard, it just seemed somewhat monotonous.  His whole daily routine seemed monotonous.

Traven constantly found his mind drifting away during lectures.  He supposed that all of the talk over the break about magic was to blame.  He tried to forget about it, but it would always creep back into his thoughts when he was least expecting it.  It had been the fulfillment of his dreams to come to Calyn and study at a merchant school, and now that he was here living his dream he was dreaming of something else.

He entered the classroom and slumped down into his desk next to the window.  Soon after, the professor entered the classroom and began his lecture on bookkeeping.  Traven was able to remain focused for about ten minutes before his mind once again began to drift off as his gaze drifted to the window and far beyond it.

Splack!  Traven shot up straight in his chair as something slammed into the back of his neck.  Pulling the soggy wad from off of his neck, he turned around to find Rudy with a big grin on his face staring straight forward intent on the lecturer.  Traven threw the soggy wad of paper to the ground with disgust and tried to focus on the lecture once again.  But as hard as he tried, he could not focus.  This time, however, he was not being distracted by daydreams.  He was being distracted by thoughts of Rudy and his three friends.

Ever since his first run in with the rich bullies, they had been harassing him.  They wouldn’t do anything too big since Headmaster Brock had warned them of what would happen if they got caught again, but they took advantage of every chance they could to bother him.  It was either a shove while passing through the halls, taunts, or a spit wad in the middle of class.  Traven had kept his calm, knowing what would happen if he fought back again.  He just didn’t know what to do.  At first he had figured that if he ignored it, they would grow tired of it all and leave him alone.  Instead, it had only caused them to continue and look for even more opportunities to harass him.  Traven was not sure how much more of it he could take.  Of course, if he did something about it, he knew what the consequences would be.  The thought that he would be thrown out and all of his grandparents’ sacrifices would be for naught kept him from reacting.

Splunck!  Once again he reached up and pulled a disgusting wad off of his neck.  Looking on the bright side, at least this was keeping him awake.  Trying to ignore the snickers of Rudy and his friends, Traven concentrated on what the instructor was saying for the remainder of the class.  He had learned quite a bit since he arrived at the academy.  He really never had to pay much attention during the lectures as long as he studied before the exams.  He had received some of the highest marks out of the first year students on the tests at the end of the first semester.  That probably had Rudy and his friends upset also, that a commoner got better scores then they.

Thad walked over to Traven at the end of class as the rest of the students filed out of the classroom.

“Sorry about them,” he said shaking his head.  “I know what you are feeling.  Just ignore it.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” Traven replied with an irritated look on his face.  Thad offered a shrug of helplessness.

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor.  If you don’t want to, you do not have to.”

“Don’t worry about it Thad.  I’ll do it.  What do you need?”

“Well, this morning I received this package from my uncle,” Thad said raising a large package wrapped in brown paper.  “I don’t want to carry it around until lunch, but I need to get to next period early and don’t have time to take it up to my room.  I was wondering if maybe you could . . .”

“No problem,” Traven said taking the package from him.  “I’ll leave it on your desk.”

“Thank you,” Thad replied gratefully handing Traven the key to his room.  “I will take your books to class for you.”

Traven let him take his books and watched as his friend trotted out of the room and down the hall.  He decided that he better hurry up so he would have time to drop off the package and make it to class before the bell rang.  He hefted the package onto his shoulder and hurried over to the stairs.  Halfway up, he let out a groan.  Rudy and his three friends were just about to descend.

“Well what do we have here,” said Rudy with a smirk.  “The peasant is carrying up the package of Thaddy.  At least he is beginning to learn his place in life.”  All four began to laugh as Traven reached the top of the stairs.  He ignored them and continued past.  At the last second, Rudy stuck out his leg catching the tip of Traven’s foot.  Traven fell forward and without thinking of the package, threw out his arms in time to break his fall.  He landed gently without a problem, but the package unfortunately did not.  He cringed as the package crashed into the ground with a shatter.

Traven slowly pushed himself back up off the ground filled with rage.  It was one thing to trip him, but now whatever was in the package for Thad was broken.  He had had enough.  Something in the distance told him to walk away, but he just couldn’t do it.  This time they had gone too far.  He walked straight up to the laughing Rudy and backhanded him across the face.  Rudy stared back in amazement at him.  Silence filled the hall as the tension in the air became tangible.  Rudy’s gang watched on as Traven and Rudy stared at each other.

“You are dead!” Rudy yelled lunging at him.  Traven jumped to the side and stuck out his leg letting Rudy trip and fall to the ground.  Traven remembered what had happened the first time that they had met and didn’t wait for Rudy’s friends to make a move.  Before Rudy had hit the ground, Traven was in the middle of his friends, punching and ducking.  Soon all three were on the ground.  He then jumped back away and unleashing his pent up fury, slammed his foot into the stomach of Rudy who was charging towards him.  Rudy let out a grunt as he crashed to the ground once again.  This time he stayed there.

Traven spun around to face the others who were beginning to rise.  Instead of attack, they ran down the stairs leaving their leader out cold on the floor.  Traven’s breathing began to slow as his eyes brimmed with tears.  He hated Rudy.  Why could he have not just left him alone?  He walked over to Rudy and nudged him with his foot.  The bully made no response, but Traven could see that he was still breathing.  He would be okay.  Traven’s ears perked up as he heard footfalls coming up the stairs.  He let out a groan and turned around with dread, waiting for the oncoming consequence of his actions.

* * * * *

Kalista pushed herself up from the lunch table with a satisfied stomach.  She walked back to her room and had her chamber maids dress her in warm outdoor clothing.  She slid into her thick boots and donned a long, purple velvet cape lined with fur.  She was excited for the afternoon.  Gavin was going to go down to the docks and then do an inspection of the royal army barracks, and he had invited her to accompany him.  She did not often have the opportunity very often to be among her subjects and was grateful for the chance to get out of the palace.

Feeling snug and warm, the Princess descended the stairs from her chambers and made her way across the palace to the royal stables.  The horses were saddled and her escort of guards was patiently waiting atop their mounts, but Gavin still had not arrived.  She walked over to her white mare and stroked its nose lovingly.  After she had been waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Gavin hurried into the stable.

“Please forgive me my Princess,” Gavin said apologetically.  “The High King had several last minute instructions for me concerning the army.  I hope you have not been waiting too long.”

“Do not worry about it,” Kalista said with a wave of her hand.  “As long as it will not happen again.”  She tried hard to keep a stern look on her face but could not keep the smile back that crept onto her face.

“Never again,” Gavin said with a wink.  “If you are ready, we will continue.”  Gavin climbed gracefully onto his tall, brown horse as Kalista nodded her acceptance.  She was soon atop her mare and the stablehands threw open the stable doors.  She pulled her cloak close around her face as the cold, winter air rushed into the warm stable.

Four guards filed out of the stable two by two.  Gavin and Kalista dropped into place behind them and were followed by four more guards.  Kalista never understood why she had to ride with so many guards.  The city was safe enough and it was during the day.  She did know, however, that it was important to keep up an appearance and to show strength.  The people in the square parted and paused for a moment to offer respectful bows of their heads as the Princess passed.  They were soon through the grand square and heading down the avenue towards the port.  She had not been down to the port for over a year and was excited to see the ocean and all of the ships up close again.

They rode all the way to the very edge of the ocean.  The sea was restless like it always was during the winter months.  Kalista stared out over the choppy surface at the whitecaps that constantly crashed back and forth.  Gavin reached out and took a hold of her hand as they sat atop their horses side by side watching the majesty of the restless ocean.  Her heart was much like the ocean.  It was quite restless.  Gavin did not hide his love for her anymore, and she did not hide her love for him.  She wondered how long it would be before he asked her father for her hand in marriage.  Kalista knew that her father would give it happily since it had been his idea in the first place.  She was restless for the engagement to be announced.  There were already whispers everywhere in the palace and she would rather have the truth put out in the open.  They sat next to each other in silence listening to the crashing waves.  After enjoying the majesty of nature and one another’s presence, Gavin announced that it was time for them to continue on.

They left the ocean and headed back down the avenue.  They then turned off of the avenue and headed towards the royal barracks.  Kalista could soon see the large structure made of huge grey stones in the distance.  The royal barracks made a sharp contrast against the white city wall of Calyn that rose up directly behind it.  The main building was quite large, yet the open fields that extended out from the barracks were much larger.  The large fields that kept the barracks isolated from the buildings of the city were used for the training of the royal troops.

Kalista marveled at how full of soldiers the fields were.  She could not remember ever seeing them so full of activity.  She knew that her father was building up the army in preparation for the possibility of a war, but she had not realized just how much the enlistment in the royal army was being increased.  Her father acted as though the threat from Balthus was nothing, but seeing such a large increase in troops made her realize that the High King was preparing for something larger than a small border skirmish.

“I have never seen so much activity down here,” she remarked to Gavin.

“Many troops are being trained right now, and many others are preparing to march with my father to Candus next week.  It looks quite chaotic, does it not?”

Kalista nodded in the affirmative.  As they began to cross the field, all of the activity suddenly stopped.  All of the troops turned and dropped to a knee with their fists clenched over their hearts.  Kalista was impressed at how fast all of the troops showed the proper respect and their sign of loyalty to the crown.  There was no army that matched the discipline and loyalty of the royal army of Kalia.  She could clearly see that such an increase in numbers had not changed that.

“At ease!” Gavin said in a loud, clear, and commanding voice.  “Continue!”  As fast as they had stopped their activities, they took them up once again.  Kalista looked at Gavin adoringly.  He definitely was a natural born leader.  As they finished making their way to the barracks, Kalista watched the troops performing their various routines.  In the distance a large group of archers were practicing long range shooting, and closer to the road footmen were practicing formations.  She could also see horsemen in the distance practicing maneuvers in the snow covered fields.

As they entered the courtyard of the barracks, they were stopped by the commandant of the barracks.  He bowed quickly and motioned excitedly towards a large circle of soldiers.  From atop their mounts, Kalista and her party could easily see over the heads of the soldiers and into the center of the circle.  There was an incredible fight taking place.  Four soldiers were all attacking one other soldier.  Kalista wanted to ask why someone did not stop it, but then she realized that they were only using practice swords.

She watched, amazed as the mountain of a man in the middle held the other four soldiers at bay.  The swords in each of his hands swirled so quickly that Kalista could barely make them out.  One of the attackers lost his sword and fell backwards as one of the large man’s swords slammed into his chest.  The others picked up their attack but to no avail.  The large man seemed untouchable.  Soon two others were down and out of the fight.  The only attacker left broke off and sized up the large man.  The brief pause was soon over in a whirl of blades as the large man attacked.  The lone attacker held off for quite a while before the large man ended the fight with an unexpected swipe to his opponent’s ankle.

The crowd of soldiers burst into cheers as the large man stood alone with clouds of fog rising from his mouth in the cold air.  He then reached down to help his opponent up.  The large man shook hands with his other opponents as they exchanged quick words.  Several of the on looking soldiers started to slip away, hurrying back to their training.  It was then that they noticed the presence of the Princess, and all in the courtyard quickly dropped to a knee and saluted.  The commandant waved them to their feet with a snap of his fist.  Soon there were only a handful of soldiers left in the courtyard, one of them being the large sword master.

“I am sorry for the wait Princess and Commander General,” the commandant apologized.  “I figured that you would enjoy seeing that.”

“It was quite amazing,” Gavin answered.  “I do not know if I have ever seen someone with skills to match his.  Who is he?”

“His name is Blaize.  He arrived here several months ago.  I was instantly impressed by his fighting ability and even happier to find in him strong leadership qualities.  He is a very interesting man.  He came here as any other regular soldier.  He mentioned when he enlisted that he had experience in warfare but said nothing else.  When he began training it was instantly obvious how good of a fighter he was.  Those over him promoted him quickly to the most advanced group of soldiers.  Even amongst them he continued to shine.  He was respected by all in his group and took extra time to help them improve.

“I could see that all of the men looked up to him but was cautious of promoting a Balthan to a leadership position.  After talking with him and getting to know him however, I changed my mind and promoted him to an officer.  He was incredibly respectful, and I felt that I could trust him with my life.  As I got to know him better through tactical discussions and the such, I learned more of his background and of his keen intelligence on the battlefield.  General Blaize served in the Balthan army for many years and helped to quell several rebellions in Balthus.  He was also the captain guard for a wealthy merchant caravan for many years.  Other than that I do not know what he has been doing for all his life.  He is not married and has no family.  I am not sure why he decided to join the royal army being a Balthan and all, but I guess he just wants to fight for a good cause.  After several weeks as an officer I asked him to be a general, and he humbly accepted.  I will call him over so that you can meet him.  He is one of the two generals who will be marching with you in the spring.”  The commandant walked across the courtyard and returned with the large general.  General Blaize saluted with hand over chest when he arrived in front of her and Gavin.

“That was a superb display of sword skill,” Gavin said congratulating the soldier.

“Thank you Commander,” General Blaize said with a nod of his head.

“I am informed that you will be marching with me in the spring as one of my generals.  From what I saw, I am pleased to have you on my side.”  The large man smiled.  “We will talk more later.”  The large man bowed and left as Gavin turned back to the commandant.

Kalista watched as the man walked away.  She had never seen such a large man.  What fascinated the Princess the most however was not his size, it was how light he was on his feet as he walked away.  Watching him walk away reminded her of the snow lion she had hunted with her father.  At her side, Gavin was questioning the commandant about certain preparations for the upcoming march to Candus.

“Things are going as planned.  Two thousand troops are ready to march with the Baron, including two hundred horsemen.  Another four thousand troops should be ready to march in the spring.  Many of the troops are young and inexperienced, but the veterans are helping them.  If this magician in Balthus thinks that he can step into Kalia with his army he will be in for an unpleasant surprise.”

“That is nice to hear,” Gavin said with a smile.  “Let us proceed with the tour.  We can talk more of these things later.”

Gavin slipped off his horse and helped Kalista off of her mount.  They fell into step behind the commandant as he led them from the courtyard and into the buildings.  As they entered, they were passed by the soldier who had lasted the longest of the four against the large general.

“Commandant,” Gavin said, “That soldier is a blademaster is he not?”

“You have a good eye Commander,” the commandant replied with a smile.  “He is one of the best swordsmen I have ever seen.  But so were the other three that General Blaize defeated.”  Kalista’s eyes widened slightly as the full meaning of what the commandant said donned on her.  The large general was not just a blademaster.  He was a master of masters!

26

Traven listened with dread as the footsteps continued up the stairs.  Out of the stairwell popped one of his fellow classmates.  He sighed with relief.  His classmate looked from Rudy to Traven and then from Traven to Rudy.  He then broke out with a large smile.  As he continued past Traven, he congratulated him with a pat on his back.  Traven watched as the young man continued on down the hall.  Traven then bent over to retrieve Thad’s package.

“Traven!” a voice boomed from the top of the stairwell.  “What have you done!”  Traven arose with horror to face the oncoming Headmaster Brock.  The headmaster brushed past him and bent over Rudy.  After checking to make sure that he would be all right he snapped at the other student who had reached the end of the hall to go and bring a physician.  “This is the last time!  I tried to be lenient before and help you out even though you did not deserve it.  This time you will receive no mercy.  You have one hour to be out of my academy.  If I see you here again after that, I will turn you over to the City Watch!”

Traven stared back at the headmaster stunned.  Headmaster Brock turned and knelt down over Rudy.  The headmaster did not even care about how it had happened.

“Headmaster,” Traven began, “Rudy was . . .”

“Enough!” Headmaster Brock stated, cutting Traven off.  “You heard what I said.  I want you out of here!”

Traven thought about trying to explain again but knew that it would get him nowhere.  He picked up Thad’s package and walked numbly the rest of the way to his friend’s room to leave it there.  He left the key, the package, and a short note explaining what had happened.  He then left Thad’s room and went to his own.  As he shut the door he could hear the other student returning with a physician.

Standing alone in his room, the full import of what had just happened finally sunk in.  He had less than an hour to be out of the academy.  He had been kicked out of the academy!  Traven could not believe that he had destroyed his chance at becoming a merchant and had wasted so much of his Grandparent’s savings.  He insensibly walked to his closet and began to pack his belongings.  In a few short moments, all of his possessions were packed in his saddlebag.  He was reminded once again of how few belongings he actually had.

Looking once more around the room, he saw himself in the mirror.  His sad visage stared back at him.  He decided to change out of his nice black clothes and put on his traveling clothes.  After changing and re-packing his saddlebag, Traven sadly looked around the small room that had been his home for the last several months.  The room looked as it had when he first arrived.  How many hours had he spent in it pouring over books and studying for exams?  How many hours had he laid in bed imagining the future?  What was he going to do now?

He stepped from the room sadly.  He shut his door and walked down the now empty hall.  His footsteps rang loudly in his ears.  He descended the stairs and made his way to the stables.  He found Pennon and saddled him slowly.  After securing his saddlebag, Traven opened the stall door and led Pennon out.  He then clicked the stall door shut and mounted his steed.  The stablehand opened the doors, and Traven headed out into the cold winter air.

Pennon trotted down the street and stopped as Traven pulled up at the grand square.  He could feel Pennon’s restlessness beneath him.  He had not taken him for a ride in a while, and the horse was anxious.  Traven held Pennon at bay, however, for he didn’t know where to go.  When the headmaster had denounced him, he had focused on leaving as soon as he possibly could.

Traven now realized that he had nowhere to go.  The thought of heading back home as a failure was unbearable.  He couldn’t face his grandparents like this after all that they had done for him.  He sat silently atop Pennon and considered what other options he had, if any.  He knew how to work with lumber, but there was no work for a lumberman in Calyn.  He did know how to use his sword now and maybe could sign on as a guard for a merchant caravan.  The problem with that was that it was winter and almost no caravans would be leaving Calyn until closer to spring.  What could he possibly do until then?  Maybe he could sell one of his stones for enough money to live off of for a while.  Philosopher Studell had said that they were very valuable.  The thought of selling either stone however made Traven uncomfortable, and he dismissed the idea.

He slumped down in his saddle despairingly.  Everything had been so good, and he had just ruined it.  If he could only have controlled himself he would not be without a home or occupation.  What was he going to do now?  Blaize had taught him that self-control was essential.  Why had he forgotten that?  Why?  Blaize had . . .

That was it!  Blaize!  Blaize had gone to enlist in the royal army.  Traven had heard many times that the army was enlisting new soldiers in preparation for the possibility of a clash with the rogue army that had been raised in Balthus.  He hadn’t heard anything about the enlistment for over a month but decided that he could still give it a shot.  He couldn’t think of any other possibility.  Once he was enlisted, he would have the chance to practice his sword skills all of the time and would be able to see Blaize again.

He kicked Pennon with his heel lightly, and the horse leaped forward.  Traven steered him across the square and to the road that led to the barracks.  He had never been there before but knew where they were.  In fact he had never really been on this side of the city before.  The streets were much quieter with less people.  He noticed that this part of the city had no stores or markets.  This section of the city contained the homes of the majority of the inhabitants of the city.  As he crossed side streets, he could see many houses that were palaces themselves.  They weren’t nearly as large as the Royal Palace but were quite large nonetheless.  This must have been where many of his ex-classmates came from.  He wondered if Thad lived nearby.  Shaking those thoughts from his head, Traven focused on what was ahead of him.

The houses lining the street suddenly stopped at the edge of a huge field.  In the cold, white field there were many soldiers running through drills.  At the far end of the field and against the pristine walls of Calyn lay a large grey building that he assumed was the barracks.  Traven continued down the field towards the barracks hoping that he would be allowed to enlist.  If not, he had no idea what he would do.

As he rode through the large field, several of the soldiers near the road glanced over at him, but the majority were so focused on their exercises that they did not even notice him.  Traven watched as the men practiced sword fighting, archery, and different maneuvers.  Maybe this really wouldn’t be bad after all.  He thought it would definitely be better than sitting in a classroom all day.  He slowed Pennon as he arrived at the front of the barracks.  Through the front arch, he could see a large courtyard.  A guard broke away from the arch and stopped Traven with a raise of his hand.

“What do you want kid?” the guard asked bluntly.

“Excuse me sir, I was wondering if you could direct me to where I might go to enlist.”

“Kid, I am afraid that we stopped recruiting a month ago.  The barracks are full and no more recruits are being accepted,” the guard answered.  And with that the guard turned to walk back to his post.

“Wait, please,” Traven implored.  “Is there any way that an exception can be made?  It is really important to me.”  The guard just stared back at him.  “I have come all the way from the other side of Kalia and . . .”

“All right, all right,” the guard said in exasperation.  “If you want you can enter through that door over there and plead your case at the clerk’s desk.  It’s the first thing you’ll see when you walk in.”

“Thank you,” Traven said as Pennon walked under the arch and into the courtyard.  He could hear the guard behind him mumbling about crazy village kids looking for adventure and that they would all learn that the army was not as fun as they imagined.  Traven smiled as he pulled up next to the small wooden door that the guard had indicated.  He hoped that the clerk would be as easy to convince as the guard had been.

Traven dismounted and tied Pennon’s reins.  He then took a deep breath and pulled open the door.  He shut the door behind him blocking out the cold winter air.  He had expected to find a small waiting room or something like it, but instead he found himself in a narrow hall leading back into the barracks.  The hall was lit by the torches that lined the walls.  Several feet down the hall, an older man with a weathered face and a patch over his left eye sat behind a desk.  He had looked up when Traven walked in but was now back to scribbling away on the sheet of parchment in front of him.

Traven approached him and opened his mouth to talk, but the clerk stopped him with a raise of his finger.  He waited quietly and listened to the flickering torches and the scratching of the clerk’s quill against the rough paper.  The clerk finally finished whatever he was doing and set down his pen and pushed the paper aside.

“How may I help you?” he inquired in a deep voice that did not seem to match his scrawny frame.

“I would like to enlist in the army,” Traven replied.

“Didn’t the guard tell you that we are not accepting new recruits anymore?”

“Yes he did, but I came from very far, and I was wondering . . .”

“What is your name?”

“Traven.”

“And where are you from Traven?”

“Oak Tree.”

“Oak tree, that is quite far.  And I would almost believe that you were from a small lumber community because of your clothes, but I am afraid that your sword gave you away son.”  Traven looked down at the hilt of his sword and back at the clerk.  The man thought he was lying!

“I really am from Oak Tree,” Traven said before being cut off.

“Look son, I do not want to argue with you.  The fact of the matter is that we are at capacity.  Even if you were really a poor kid all the way from Oak Tree, I don’t know if we could let you in.”

Traven stared back at the clerk.  What could he say?  He had to convince the man to let him in.  If not, he would not have lodgings or an occupation.  He quickly decided that maybe if he could convince the man that he really had come all the way from Oak Tree, he would have a chance at convincing him to let him enlist.

“I can prove that I’m from Oak Tree.  I know a soldier in the army, and I know that he will vouch for me.  His name is Blaize . . .”

“General Blaize.  You are a friend of his?” the clerk asked skeptically.

“Well I don’t know if it’s the same one, but he is taller than me, with long dark hair, and he has a gold hoop earring in both ears.”

“He’s the same,” the clerk said nodding but with a skeptical look on his face.  “All right son.  I will go and send for him, but if what you say is not true, we are going to have some problems.  You wait here.”

Traven watched as the man walked down the hall and disappeared around a corner.  He could hardly believe that Blaize was a general!  Things would work out better than he had hoped for.  He was now guaranteed to be enlisted.  Traven watched eagerly as the clerk returned.

“I sent him the message.  Now we’ll wait to see what he says.”  They didn’t have to wait very long.  Soon Traven could hear footsteps, and then Blaize rounded the corner.  Traven’s face broke into a large smile at the sight of his friend but slowly faded away as he saw the scowl on Blaize’s face.  “Here’s the boy General.  He says he’s from Oak Tree and that he knows you.”

“I have never seen him before,” Blaize said gruffly.  “Get him out of here.”  Traven’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as Blaize turned to leave after having denounced him.  He couldn’t believe it!  Blaize then turned back around with a grin on his face and started laughing.  “I’m just kidding,” Blaize said between laughs.  “I know him.  He’s a good friend of mine.  Enlist him.  I’ll show him around and get him what he needs.”

“Yes sir,” the clerk replied as he picked up another paper and quickly asked Traven several questions.  When he was done, Blaize led him down the hall.

“You had me scared there for a second Blaize,” Traven said trying to sound completely at ease.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t see your face.  I thought you were going to cry!”  Blaize added a few more chuckles before growing serious.  “I’m glad to see you, but what are you doing here?  You should be back at the academy.”

Traven briefly related everything that had led up to his expulsion from the academy.  Blaize listened quietly and nodded when he finished by explaining that after leaving the academy he had thought of Blaize and had decided to try and enlist in the army.

“Well, sometimes life doesn’t turn out as we expect it to.  That’s definitely for sure.  It is a shame that you were kicked out of the academy.  You had a bright future in front of you.  You could have been wealthy, but I know that money is not everything.  We can find happiness in whatever, if we choose to.  Many find the life of a soldier hard while others love it.  Since the merchant academy was not right for you, maybe the life of a soldier will be.  And here at least you can beat people up and get away with it!”

Traven joined Blaize in his laughter as the large man slapped him on the back.  He was feeling much better already.  Maybe it was not such a bad thing that he had been kicked out of the academy, though he still felt guilty about it.  A new door had been opened in his life and maybe this one would lead to more satisfaction for him.

Turning a corner, Traven slammed to a halt.  He found himself face to face with the young woman who he had walked in on at the palace.  He stepped back quickly.  The woman was as beautiful as he remembered.  Her soft face was framed by her golden curls, and her mesmerizing eyes once again held him speechless.  Traven was pulled out of her spell as Blaize nudged him in the ribs.  He realized that Blaize was bowing slightly and followed his example.  He then followed as Blaize stepped to the side to let the small party of people continue down the hall.

Traven watched as they continued on.  The young woman had her arm linked through the arm of a dashing man and they were followed by several royal guards.  A man walking at their side was pointing out things as they continued.  Traven figured that they must be on some type of tour of the facilities.  His eyes wandered back to the beautiful young woman, and he watched her as the party continued down the hall.

“You should not be staring at the Princess like that Traven, especially when she is on the arm of her future husband.  What if someone besides me saw you?”  Traven jerked his eyes away from the Princess and turned a brighter shade of red.

“She’s the Princess!” he managed to yelp.

“Yes, that is Princess Kalista and the man she is with is Commander General Gavin.  He is the son of the Baron of Candus and will be leading us when we march to Candus in the spring.  Rumor also has it that the two of them will be getting married although no official engagement has been announced.  You better forget about her Traven.”

“I wasn’t thinking about her,” Traven began as Blaize gave him a knowing look and started to laugh.  “Okay, maybe I was, but that’s just because she’s so beautiful.  I had no idea she was the Princess.  The Commander General is a lucky man!”

“He might not be as lucky as you think.  The Princess Kalista is definitely beautiful, but she is also royalty and the only heir to the throne.  That means that she is most likely always used to having her way.  Women like that can make a man’s life horrible.”

“My grandfather used to tell me that all women are like that,” Traven replied.

“He’s probably right,” Blaize admitted as he started laughing once again.  “Stay away from them Traven.  They only make life complicated.”

Traven smiled as Blaize once again began to lead him around the barracks.  Traven was sure that women made life more complicated, but for some reason he could not quit thinking of the Princess’ eyes as Blaize began to explain the daily routine of a soldier in the Royal Kalian Army.

27

“I am glad that your son finally got the nerve to ask my daughter for her hand in marriage,” the High King said to Baron Mikel.  “When Gavin finally came to me asking for my permission and blessing, I almost leaped for joy.”

“I am glad that your daughter was as pleased as you were and accepted,” the Baron replied.

“I told you a long time ago that she would accept.  I have known that for years.”  The High King then raised his fist in the air.  “When you are the king, you have to be able to recognize these kinds of things!”

Baron Mikel joined in laughing with High King Raldon.   The High King was feeling better than he had felt in a long time.  Things were not perfect of course, but it gave him joy to see his daughter happy.  It also relieved the burden of worrying about what would happen to his kingdom when he died.  Gavin had the qualities necessary to become a great king.  It was relieving to have those two things taken care of.  He had enough other problems to worry about.

The city murders had stopped suddenly about a week ago, but the murderer had never been caught.  The High King did not know why the killings had stopped.  Perhaps the murderer had died.  Perhaps he had moved on to another city.  Perhaps he was merely waiting to strike again.  The last thought weighed heavily on his mind.

His other great worry was that of the army in Balthus.  At first he had thought that it would not be a problem for Kalia, but with the recent reports he worried that it would come to war.  He was glad that he had taken the safe path and recruited new troops at first reports of the rising army.  He did not fear for the safety of his country.  The troops he had at his command were sufficient to stop the army from invading Kalia, but he did fear for the casualties that war always brought.  Many troops would end up giving their lives to defend their country.

The High King still had hope of avoiding the war.  The Empress of Balthus had a large army surrounding her in Rankdra.  The High King hoped that she would be able to put an end to the rogue army.  She had plenty of soldiers, not nearly as many as he, but more than the rogue army.  The only disturbing thing was the news of how Beking had fallen.

“Do you really believe the reports of what happened at Beking?” the High King asked Baron Mikel.

“I do not know if I believe them or not.  What do you think about it?” the Baron returned.

“I do not want to believe them, but I am compelled to,” the High King replied with a shake of his head.  “I would not think such things were possible, yet several trustworthy spies all gave basically the same version of the fall of the city.  I cannot disregard their reports as untrue, and I cannot fully accept what they said either.  All that I can do is prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”

The reports that had reached them over the last few days had definitely been disturbing.  He had not believed the first report, but when he had received a second, he had considered some of it to be truthful.  With the arrival of the third report, he was convinced that somehow his spies were telling the truth of what they had seen.  He only wondered if it was possible that their eyes had deceived them.

According to their reports, the army had approached the north wall of the city of Beking in a very disorderly manner in the early afternoon.  The army pulled up a considerable distance from the city and waited.  As the few troops in Beking watched from atop the walls, a lone man broke away from the army.  The tall, light haired man advanced unaccompanied several yards towards the walls.  He then stopped and raised his hands into the air.  There was suddenly a rush of mighty wind and then lightning struck down from a clear sky.  Bolt after bolt slammed into the city with loud booms destroying houses and buildings.  As the inhabitants of the city began to run in chaos, the troops watched dumbfounded and helpless atop the walls.

The lightning then stopped and only the screams of the frantic inhabitants could be heard.  The tall, light haired man smiled and clapped his hands together as two gigantic bolts of lightning met at the center of the city wall.  With a deafening crash, that section of the wall exploded as the troops above it flew into the air along with its stones.  As the debris settled, the inhabitants of the city watched the gigantic gap in expectation and horror.  The sound of a deep horn broke the tangible silence, and the rogue army rushed forward and poured through the gap in the wall.

The inhabitants had run for their lives as the city’s troops tried to buy them time, but the thieves had shown no mercy.  The majority of the city dwellers escaped to the south towards Rankdra, but many others were slaughtered.  As the thieves defiled the city and its inhabitants, their leader watched from without the walls with a smile on his face.  He had remained outside the city with only two other men, confident that he faced no danger as his army razed the once grand city of Beking.  By nightfall much of the city had been burnt to the ground.

The night air had been full of tainted celebration as the rogue army reveled in the spoils of Beking.  The next day the army had moved their camp into the city and taken possession of everything left that the city had to offer after the destruction that had befallen it.  All three reports that the High King had received had agreed on how the city had fallen and all of the destruction that had followed.

The High King could not deny the fact that the city had fallen and the devastation that had ensued.  There had been rumors for months that a mighty wielder led the army, and now he was inclined to believe that there was some truth in the rumors.  He supposed that the leader was a skilled magician, but the power that he had supposedly unleashed was far beyond the skills of a simple magician.  The High King of course knew the basic history of the wielder wars, but that had been so long ago.  Most did not even accept the stories as factual.  The High King did not know if it was possible for a man to command the powers of nature, but he would be ready for anything.

“With your permission my High King.”  The High King Raldon left his troubled thoughts and beckoned the messenger into the room.  “The troops are ready and waiting outside the east entrance.”

“Thank you,” the High King said as he turned from the messenger to the Baron.  “Shall we go?”  Without waiting for an answer, the High King walked through the door with the Baron at his heels. Both were dressed in armor and warm cloaks.  The first detachment of troops would soon leave for Candus to guard the gateway into Kalia.  Baron Mikel would be leading the troops, and Gavin would follow in the spring with a larger group.  The High King was confident that the rogue army would not reach the borders of Kalia until at least late spring, and by then sufficient troops would be in place to stop the rogue army’s advances.

They were soon in the courtyard and regally mounted their steeds.  Kalista, Gavin, and the Baroness were there and ready, along with the royal escort.  At the command of the High King the party rode out of the courtyard and towards the main gate of the city.  The Baron knew what his orders were and the preparations that he must make before the rest of the army arrived in the spring.  The High King was confident in his abilities and was glad that he would not have to worry about that aspect of the impending conflict.

The party pulled up in front of the waiting troops outside the grand city wall.  The High King raised his fist into the air and all of the troops dropped to a knee and saluted.  He then raised them and offered the customary sending off speech.  When he was finished, he handed the ceremonial command staff to Baron Mikel.  The Baron accepted the command and saluted.  He then rode down to the front of the small army.  When he was in place at the head of the army, the trumpets were blown and the army began its wintery march to Candus.

The High King watched as the disciplined army marched away in unison in a tight formation.  At his side, his daughter and future son-in-law watched on; Gavin watching his parents ride away, and Kalista rubbing the new diamond ring on her dainty hand.  The High King smiled as the sun reflected off of his daughter’s engagement ring.  Despite all of the troubles in his life, he believed that things were going to work out fine.  With a last glance at the army marching into the sun, the High King Raldon d’ Roshedrian turned his horse and led the party back into the city.  With the seeing off of the troops completed, he now had other tasks to see to.

* * * * *

Wraith looked out the window of the ancient tower.  With the light of the rising sun, he could see across the steamy marsh to the edges of the grand city of Calyn in the distance.  He had not been in the city for almost a week.  Even with the increased security in the city it had been too easy to kill, and he was getting more and more restless.  He hadn’t had any luck in discovering what it was that Kadrak had sent him to find.  The stone had not changed colors since he had been in the city.  He was sure that the young man must still be in the city for almost no one traveled at this time of year, but among so many people it was next to impossible without the help of the stone to find someone he had never before seen.

Wraith left the window and descended the stairs of the ancient tower.  The ruins he had found deep in the marsh were quite fascinating and made an excellent hide away.  No one ventured this deep into the marsh, so here he was free of unwanted disturbances.  He had been pleasantly surprised when he stumbled upon the rumored ruins.  As for the supposed treasure and monster that guarded it, he had seen no signs.  Several buildings were still intact enough to be used for shelter.  The tower was amazingly almost completely whole along with the adjacent building.  He had taken a room in the lower part of the thin tower for his personal quarters.  There were enough other rooms and supplies for his guests that would soon be joining him.

He would be venturing into the city today but with a different purpose than before.  He had decided to do something a little more exciting than kill regular citizens in their sleep; something a little bigger; something that would really send the city into an uproar.  But to implement his plan he would need a little help.  Today he would begin to recruit some followers.  When he had the numbers he wanted, he would act.  And then the grandest city in the world would really question what was happening to their peaceful land.

* * * * *

The fire raged in the hearth lending heat to the lone person in the room.  Kadrak sat, lounging in a plushy cushioned chair.  The amenities of the small palace of Beking were much better than living out of his tent.  He had enjoyed sleeping in a luxurious bed once again.  He wished however that all of the servants had not been killed.  He made a note to remember that when they took Rankdra.  It would have been nice to dine on gourmet food and to be waited on by professional servers.  His army cook was competent, but Kadrak was growing tired of his cooking.  The variety of food had at least improved since he had taken Beking.

Kadrak pushed himself out of the chair and strode out onto the balcony to view what was left of the city.  Most of the city lay in ruins.   What was left looked quite desolate in the cold, morning light.  He chuckled as he thought of how easy it had been to take the city.  A decent show of his power had sent the city into chaos and his undisciplined army had easily destroyed the confused and frightened troops of Beking.  His thieves had then destroyed just about everyone and everything else.  Kadrak had given them free reign this time.  He had even encouraged the destruction, but the fall of Rankdra would be slightly different.

Kadrak had wanted the news of what happened at Beking to spread.  He wanted all to know that he was not to be trifled with.  The destruction would not be repeated unless there was resistance.  He had already sent messengers to the Empress in Rankdra giving her the opportunity to surrender before he descended on her lovely city with his troops in the spring.  If she gave him the throne and the supplies he needed, the city would be left intact.  If not, Kadrak and his army would once again descend in their fury.

His army would be under stricter orders of what they could and could not do, though.  A city without inhabitants to work it and keep it productive was not that great of a prize.  Kadrak wanted respect and power, but he also wanted the love of the people who would be his subjects.  He would show mercy on those who asked for it and reward those who were loyal to him.  His army had already tasted the spoils that he had promised them.  They would be ready to follow his leadership once again in the spring.  By the end of winter they would be restless and eager to fight.

After gazing over his prize for several moments longer, Kadrak returned to the cushioned chair.  Things were working out exactly as he had planned.  Beking had fallen easily and his fame was spreading like wildfire.  When the prideful Empress of Balthus refused his demands, which he was sure she would, her precious army would be defeated, and he would take her city from her.  And when the mighty army of Balthus had fallen and the Empress knelt at his feet, all the land would fear the mighty Wielder Kadrak!

Part Three: Awakening

28

Crack!  The practice swords smashed together once again.  Traven pressed the attack as his opponent strained to repel it.  Then Traven was on the defense, blocking slashes and dodging swipes.  He jumped back as a swipe nearly snagged his clothes and then dove forward in a burst of speed, surprising his opponent.  Traven slashed with his sword into the back of the other soldier as he flew past.  He then tucked into a roll and popped back up to his feet with a smile.  This was the third time that he had beaten a blademaster!  The small crowd of soldiers watching applauded as Traven shook hands with his opponent, Captain Kalthor.

“You got really lucky that time Traven,” Kalthor said.  “You are getting better and better.  Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you sir,” Traven said as his captain saluted him and left.

A few soldiers came over to congratulate Traven before heading off.  When everyone had left, he gathered up his things and headed into the barracks still breathing heavily.  By the time he arrived at his bunk, his breathing was back to normal.  He plopped down on the short, narrow bed to rest for a while.  He had been training harder than ever and it was definitely paying off.  He had now beaten three of the seven blade masters in the royal army.  He had no hopes of beating Blaize but wanted to beat the other three before the army marched for Candus in a couple of weeks.

Traven let his body fall back on his bed and tried to get comfortable.  He had slept well since joining the army because he was always tired, but he was not sure if he had ever really been comfortable.  That was what he missed about the academy, the comfortable living conditions.  His bed had been so comfortable, and he had had his own room.  In the barracks he shared his room with nineteen other soldiers and only had a small cupboard for his personal space.

When he had joined the army, he had not really thought about the difficult living conditions.  He had adjusted however.  After Blaize had helped him enlist, Traven had been assigned to a squadron of new recruits.  They all had over a month in the army, and at first Traven had been afraid that he would have trouble catching up to them.  It turned out almost opposite.  His physical fitness and his skill with the sword were already far past that of the new recruits.  After a couple of weeks when he had learned the basic procedures and drills, he had been moved from the beginning class into a squadron of regular soldiers.

Traven had been excited for the advancement but was saddened by the coldness of the other soldiers who were still in the beginning class.  He had hoped for a warmer reception among the normal soldiers and had found it in part.  Some made it a point to let him know that if he thought he was something special he was not, while others actually sought him out to practice against.  Traven found that he got along the best with the older veterans.  They respected his skills and were willing to offer advice and help him.  Many of the younger soldiers seemed to only care about the fun that they could have when they were allotted leave time.

Traven opened his eyes as the first dinner bell rang and closed them again.  He was definitely getting tired of the mess food.  At the academy many of the students had complained about the food that they were served, but compared with the barracks’ mess the academy was fine dining.  The food in the army was to give energy and strength, not to please the palate.  Traven had first thought it strange that the mess served basically the same food that the soldiers would eat when traveling and when fighting battles.  However, he had soon realized the wisdom of it with the help of Blaize.  Blaize had explained that if you could learn to go without certain things when they were available, then when they were not available, you would not be affected by a loss.  It helped the soldiers to endure war better and be more disciplined.

Kalia’s royal army prided itself in its discipline.  Traven had learned the truth behind it.  The soldiers had a very structured day and were obligated to show proper manners and obey their officers immediately and without question.  How they spent their nights and their free days was a whole different matter.  All of their disappointment, anger, pride, and rambunctiousness burst forth.  Many soldiers used their deprivations as an excuse to party excessively when they had a chance.

He supposed that they weren’t really deprived at all in the royal army.  They had shelter, food, and clothing provided for them and a salary to boot to use as they desired.  The soldiers with families usually sent most of the money home, while the younger soldiers and the older bachelors wasted their money on drinking and gambling.  Traven had saved most of the money he had received.  He really didn’t have any expenses since he didn’t have a family yet and didn’t enjoy drinking or gambling.

“Traven!  Hurry up or you’re going to miss dinner.”  He opened his eyes and sat up with a yawn.

“I’m coming,” Traven replied as he stood up.

“You might be a good swordsman, but if you don’t eat you’ll not last very long against anyone.”

Traven smiled as he followed Luthor to the mess hall.  Luthor was probably one of the oldest soldiers in the army.  He was one of the few that had actually fought in a war before.  He had fought thirty years earlier when Argont tried to separate itself from Kalia.  Traven liked him a lot.  Luthor had taken it upon himself to look out for him.  Traven found it amusing since he didn’t need anyone to look out for him.  He enjoyed the friendship, however.  He liked listening to the older man’s stories.  In him Traven had found someone that reminded him of his grandfather.  Soon they both had their steaming food, and they sat down at a table with some of the other veterans.

“So I heard you beat Captain Kalthor today,” Wenry said.  “He’s a blademaster for those of you who don’t know.”

“Yes, we all know that Kalthor is a blademaster,” Luthor replied.  “When there are only seven in the army it is easy to remember.  Though soon there might be eight!”  Traven smiled as Luthor winked at him.

“Well I think that Captain Kalthor is getting rusty,” another soldier said.  “I saw the fight, and he didn’t look as quick as he used to be.  No disrespect to you Traven, but I think I could have beaten him too.”

“If you think you are so good Tom, why don’t you fight Traven tomorrow?” Luthor returned.  “The Captain only looked slow because Traven’s so fast!”

Traven smiled as the veterans began arguing over who could beat who and who had fought better in actual battles.  He listened as he finished his food.  Luthor and Tom had been friends forever, but sometimes it was hard to believe since they were always arguing.  Someone who didn’t know them might even think that the two were actually upset at each other, but Traven knew that it was just their way of joking around.

“Did ya all hear about the army in Balthus?” Wenry interrupted.  “They’re moving on Rankdra.”  Traven perked up at the mention of the rogue army.  He had heard many fantastical rumors since being in the army, but after questioning Blaize he had learned that some of what he had heard was actually true.  “The Empress thinks she’s safe in her great city surrounded by her poorly trained soldiers, but she’s in for a surprise.  She’ll realize her mistake soon enough.  When that wielder leading the rogue army starts to throw his . . .”

“Now you don’t still believe that the rogue army is led by a wielder?” Luthor interjected.  “There’s just no such thing as wielders!”

“Yes there is and you are going to find that out when Rankdra falls just like Beking did!”  Traven quit paying attention as Tom joined Luthor in trying to convince Wenry that there were no such things as wielders.  Traven kept quiet on what he thought.  He wasn’t sure if all of the stories were true, but he couldn’t dismiss them as easily as Luthor.  Blaize had confirmed certain things from the rumors, and Traven himself possessed two might stones.  There was some truth there.  Time would tell whether or not the rumors were actually true.  As amazing as it would be to see a real wielder in battle, Traven didn’t want to be fighting against him if the rumors that circulated in the barracks were true.

When dinner was over the three veterans invited Traven to a game of cards.  He declined the offer so that he could get to bed early.  He had been getting up earlier than usual in the mornings so that he could get in extra practice, and with the extra matches at the end of the normal day’s training, he found himself incredibly tired.  He left the others behind and went to the bunks.  Once there, he quickly washed up and then slipped under the thick covers of his bed.  As usual he dropped off to sleep almost immediately.

Morning, as always, came too soon.  Traven got out of bed and quietly put on his clothes in the dark.  All around him he could hear the slow breathing and the snores of the other soldiers who were still fast asleep.  He grabbed his sword and silently left the room.  He continued down the hall and past the sleepy-eyed guard.  The cold air of late winter slammed into him as he left the barracks and made his way to the nearest training field.  He tossed off his cloak and shivered in the morning breeze.  He was always cold when he started his routine, but by the end he was always plenty warm.

Traven stretched and started out slowly, allowing his muscles to warm up.  He soon had his routine in full swing as he calmly went through his exercises.  After about half an hour Blaize made his way out to the field and began to practice alongside him.  Traven enjoyed Blaize’s company.  After they were done working out they would talk for a while before beginning the day.  It was about the only chance that Traven ever had to speak with Blaize.  As a general, Blaize was always busy doing something.  When he was free it wasn’t really proper for him to associate so much with a regular foot soldier.  Nobody, however, said anything about them practicing early in the morning together.  Almost all of the soldiers were still sleeping, and they could care less about what went on.

Traven finished his routine and watched Blaize finish up while he sheathed his sword.  His routine was now almost the same as Blaize’s but with one sword instead of two.  Blaize finished his routine almost immediately after Traven and walked over to join him.  The cold breeze was very refreshing as it ran over their sweating bodies.  Traven covered a yawn with the back of his hand.

“You know Traven, you look wasted.  You shouldn’t be getting up so early.”

“I don’t like to, but I need the extra practice,” Traven replied as he muffled another yawn.  “Did you hear that I beat Captain Kalthor yesterday?  Three down and three to go!”

“Four to go!”

“I am not going to try to beat you again.  I just want to beat the others.  If I keep on getting up extra early, I think that I will be able to beat the others before we march.  And then Luthor says that I will gain the title of blademaster!”

“You spend too much time with Luthor,” Blaize said rolling his eyes.  “He is too free in his praise for your skills.  You are very good, but you are not a blademaster yet.”  Traven looked down.  “How many times did you have to fight Captain Kalthor before you beat him?”

“Five times,” Traven muttered.

“Exactly!  Four times too many,” Blaize said harshly.  He then took a breath and continued in a friendlier tone.  “You probably don’t realize this, but I watch all of your matches with the blademasters. That’s how I knew that you beat Captain Kalthor yesterday.  I’m usually not in the crowd gathered around you, but I make it a point to watch from somewhere.”

“You’ve seen all of them?” Traven said raising his gaze from his feet.

“Yes I have, and I know what your problems are.  You don’t need more practice.  Your muscles know what to do before you do it.  Getting up earlier than me is just robbing you of needed sleep and your muscles of needed rest.  You can only work your muscles so hard.  They need rest.  What you lack is concentration and patience.”  Traven listened intently as Blaize continued.  He knew that it was one of the rare moments when Blaize opened up and passed along wisdom.  “As far as your form and skill, you already match the blademasters.  One of your shortcomings is that you look so hard for the opportunity to strike and win that you give your opponent an opportunity to strike you.

“You need to be patient and wait for the opportunity to come to you.  Keep your guard up and wait for the right moment to win.  When it presents itself you must act lightning quick.  If you miss it, patiently wait for another opportunity.  If you are good enough, you will last long enough to have many opportunities.  Don’t try to rush them.  They will come to you.  You have lost many times because you are being hasty.  You nearly lost again to Captain Kalthor yesterday because you were looking too hard for that moment.  You forgot that he too was watching you for that moment.

“You have to always concentrate Traven.  If your opponents are inferior, you can make a few mistakes and not have to worry.  But to be a blademaster you cannot make those mistakes.  While your skills match those of the other blademasters, your concentration does not.  When you fight another blademaster, slip out of concentration for a moment and the match is over.  You have to clear your mind and focus.  You shouldn’t feel the desire to win or feel the fear that you will lose.  You shouldn’t feel fatigue or pain.  Your mind must be clear of everything else.  You must focus on your opponent and your goal.  Nothing else matters.  When you learn to do that, then you will truly be a blademaster.  And I shouldn’t say this because you get enough praise from Luthor, but I think you have the potential to be one of the best blademasters.”

“Thanks Blaize,” Traven said grateful for the criticism and the praise.  Blaize always had a way of finishing on a high note.

“So will you trust me and stop getting up so early in the morning?”

“If you say so Blaize,” Traven said clapping Blaize on the shoulder.  “You haven’t given me any bad advice yet.”

“You got that right,” Blaize said with a grin.  They then headed back to the barracks to get ready for the day.  “Oh yeah, one more thing,” Blaize said as he headed down an opposite corridor to the officer’s quarters.  “The Commander General and the Princess are going to be stopping by in the afternoon, so be on your best behavior.”  Then he finished with a wink, “And try to control your emotions if you run into the Princess again.  She’s engaged now!”

Traven shook his head as Blaize trotted off down the hall chuckling to himself.  He still liked to bring up the time that the two of them had run into each other months before.  Traven didn’t think that it had been that amusing.  He did hope however that he would get a glance at her when she visited.  Just because she was engaged didn’t mean that she was no longer as beautiful as the first time that he had accidently stumbled upon her.  He dismissed the thought and returned to his bunk.  He was in a good mood.  Blaize had praised him highly and helped him out once again.  He would try to remember to follow Blaize’s advice in his next match.  He would also definitely remember to sleep in an extra half hour in the morning!

29

Kalista and Gavin pulled up along with their escort in the barracks courtyard.  Waiting for them was the large General Blaize.  As they dismounted, Kalista pushed back the hood of her thin cloak, allowing her golden hair to tumble out across her shoulders and back.  It was not as cold as she had thought it would be today.  Spring was definitely on its way.  As they had ridden across the fields to the barracks, she had noticed that almost no snow remained.  Soon the blossoms of spring would burst forth.  The coming march to Candus should not be too unpleasant.  After the normal greetings, General Blaize led them into the front room of the barracks.

“As we were crossing the field, I noticed that all of the soldiers still do not have full uniforms,” Gavin commented as they continued into the barracks.

“We do have enough uniforms ready, but we are waiting to issue the new ones until just before the march,” General Blaize replied.

“Good, good,” Gavin said nodding his head in approval.

Kalista let her thoughts wander as Gavin and the general discussed what needed to be done before the march to Candus.  She looked around at the stone walls of the barracks while holding tightly to Gavin’s arm.  They had decided to wait until the summer to be married.  The rogue army would be crushed by then, and they would be able to have a peaceful wedding.  Kalista was excited for her marriage but maybe not as excited as her father.  He had been a lot happier since they announced their engagement.  He had even agreed to allow her to march to Candus with Gavin after only a few pleas.

Gavin and the general stopped as a group of soldiers marched across the corridor in front of them.  Kalista watched as the small troop passed.  Most of them were middle-aged, but there were also many that were younger.  At the back of the troop was the youngest looking of all.  He appeared familiar to her, and after a little thought, Kalista realized who it was.  The red armband triggered her memory.  It was the same young man who she had seen at the winter ball and when she had last visited the barracks months earlier.  She thought it strange that their paths crossed once again.  As the troop passed the corridor, General Blaize continued leading the way.

“That is one of our more advanced units.  Many of the soldiers in it are veterans and have quite a bit of experience.”

“What of the younger ones?  One of them in the rear looked like he could not be any older than the Princess,” Gavin questioned.

“Some of the younger ones lack a little discipline, but their training is going well.  All of the younger soldiers in the advanced groups can handle a sword well in battle,” the large general replied.  “And the young one at the rear is one of the best swordsmen in the whole army.  He will be a blademaster soon!”

Gavin raised his eyebrows at the announcement, obviously surprised that one so young could already be a blademaster.  Kalista not only noticed Gavin’s surprise, but she noticed that the large general had made the statement with more pride than usual for a general complimenting one of his soldiers.  She would have sworn that he said it with almost fatherly pride.

When they had finished touring the barracks, General Blaize led them out the side of the building and past some of the training fields.  Kalista watched as a long line of soldiers fired arrows at targets that were set back a considerable distance.  Almost every arrow ended up in the bull’s-eyes.  The general commented that these happened to be the best archers in the army, which also meant that they were the best archers in all of Kalia.

“General Blaize, did you know that the Princess is quite an accomplished archer herself?” Gavin stated.  “One of the best in Kalia for certain.”

“Is that so,” the large general said looking at her.  Kalista could see in his eyes that he was weighing the truth of what Gavin had said.

“What is the matter General?  Do you think that your Commander General is lying?” Kalista challenged.

“Why do you say that, my Princess?  I said nothing.”  Kalista grew even more upset at the denial of what he had been thinking.

“All right, I will prove it to you!”  And with that Kalista headed down on to the archery field.  “We will have an archery contest!” she announced for all of the archers to hear.  As they realized who was addressing them they all dropped to a knee.  “Master archer,” Kalista said to the archery instructor.  “Pick your three best archers to shoot against me.”

“I beg your pardon my Princess, but I don’t think . . .” the instructor stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed the look that Gavin was giving him.  “Yes my Princess.”  Kalista took a bow from one of the archers and watched as the instructor called out the names of three of his best archers.  “General Blaize will explain the rules for the competition.”

The large general smiled with an amused look and began to set out the rules of the contest.  At General Blaize’s command four targets were set up side by side.  Each archer would have five arrows.  The archers would then take turns shooting all five of their arrows in a row.  The archer with the lowest rate of accuracy would be dropped from the competition, and the remaining archers would continue as the targets were moved back to a farther distance.  This would be repeated until the winner was the only one left.

As the first archer began shooting, Kalista noticed that a crowd was already beginning to gather at the side of the field.  She would show all of them that she really was the best archer.  Men always thought they were so superior.  She would show them.  Two of the three archers landed all five arrows in the bull’s-eye while the other had a stray arrow in the second ring.  Kalista smiled as she pulled back the bow and let her first arrow fly right into the center of the bull’s-eye.  Her smile grew larger as the crowd hushed with wide eyes.

* * * * *

“Hurry everyone!  They’re having an archery match.  The Princess Kalista is shooting against the archery masters!”  Traven watched as the younger soldiers dropped their swords and ran after their excited comrade.  The older soldiers smiled and followed a little more slowly.  Traven sheathed his sword and joined them.  This would be interesting to see.  He was also happy for the opportunity to see the Princess’ beauty once again.  He wondered if the master archers would lose on purpose so as not to upset the Princess.

By the time he reached the archery field, there was already a large group gathered.  Traven watched as the arrows were pulled from the four targets.  One of the archers walked away with his head down as three of the targets were moved farther back.  Traven watched as the two remaining archers took their turns.  The first left all of his arrows in the center of the target while the second had an arrow touching the thin black ring around the bull’s-eye.  He could tell that the archers were not going to let the Princess advance another round.

Traven soon realized how mistaken he was as the Princess began her turn.  One arrow after another landed in the bull’s-eye.  He stood with his mouth open along with the other newcomers at the back of the crowd as the soldiers in the front clapped nodding their heads.  The arrows were retrieved and two targets were moved back.  The Princess announced that the targets were still too close and ordered them to be moved back even farther.

The remaining archer took his turn first.  He released his arrows slowly, taking his time.  All five of his arrows ended up in the bull’s-eye despite the long distance to the far away target.  He smiled and stepped back from the shooting line with a bow for the crowd.  The soldiers clapped as the master archer backed off the line, and the Princess moved up to take her shots.  She also took her time and calmly sent arrow after arrow into the bull’s-eye.  Traven’s eyes widened at her accuracy.  Even with the great distance to the targets he could see that her arrows were closer together than those of the master archer.  All of the other soldiers however waited in suspense as Blaize walked the long distance to the targets to examine the arrows.

Blaize returned and after stretching out the silence, announced that the Princess Kalista was the winner.  The crowd erupted in cheers as the master archers bowed to the Princess with new found respect.  The Princess beamed and graciously accepted the bows.  The soldiers were about to leave, but the Princess stopped them with a raise of her hand.

“Who is next?” she asked in her melodious voice.  The crowd quieted down as the soldiers looked at one another to see who was daring or stupid enough to accept the challenge.  All of the master archers wisely declined to accept the offer.  Traven was sure that the challenge was going to go unanswered, but then a young haughty soldier looking for glory broke away from the crowd and picked up a bow.

Traven turned from the match shaking his head.  He couldn’t believe that someone would challenge the Princess after seeing her skill with the bow.  He also couldn’t believe how good the Princess was with a bow.  He hadn’t imagined someone so beautiful to have such surprising other qualities.  He had heard many soldiers say they envied Commander General Gavin because he held her love.  He decided that he envied the Commander General even more now.

Looking around at the empty training fields, Traven noticed a bow lying solo, clearly forgotten by some soldier in all of the excitement.  He reached down and picked it up.  He hadn’t held a bow since he was young when he used to hunt with his father.  He tested the string and wondered if he could shoot at all anymore.  Looking around he found several arrows that were stuck in the ground.  He walked over to them and pulled one out.  He fitted his arrow and looked down the shaft.  It did not feel like it would be too hard to shoot decently even though it had been so long.  Traven decided to try and looked around for something to shoot at.  His eyes came to rest on a tree that was not too far away.  He picked out one of the knots in the tree and casually let go of the bowstring.  He blinked in surprise and smiled as the arrow came to rest in the knot.  It was nice to know that he was still a decent shot if he ever had the need to use a bow again.

“Wait!  He wants a chance too!” someone yelled from the crowd.  Traven somehow knew that the soldier was referring to him.  He began to feel sick as he felt eyes on his back.  Slowly turning around with the bow still in his hand, his fears were confirmed.  The whole crowd was staring at him.  Traven stood speechless as the crowd opened up creating a clear path to the Princess.  A young soldier clapped him on the back and began to help him down the path.  Traven tried to protest but nothing came out.  He wanted to turn and run, but his shocked body continued to move slowly though the center of the crowd.  In the distance he could hear shouts of encouragement and shouts of ridicule.

Traven tried to make his face smile as his legs brought him closer and closer to the Princess.  After an eternity, he found himself at the shooting line next to the lovely Princess.  The Princess stared at Traven with a quizzical look, and he stared back with a weak smile.  After several moments Traven ripped his gaze from the Princess and found Blaize shaking his head with a sigh.  Blaize then bellowed out the rules.  When he was done, the Princess stepped up to the line.

“After I beat this soldier, I will have to stop so that you may all return to your training,” she announced.

Traven looked on as the beautiful princess gracefully knocked an arrow and pulled back the string.  He stared at her, mesmerized to see her graceful beauty up close.  With wisps of her hair flying in the afternoon breeze, the Princess sent arrow after arrow into the center of the target.  Traven watched in wonder as the arrows left the dainty hand of the enchanting princess and slid into the bull’s-eye, one right after the other.  The crowd was left in awe as the arrows were in such a tight cluster at the center of the target that some were even touching one another.  The Princess smiled triumphantly and waved with a smirk for Traven to step up and take his turn.

Traven took a deep breath and stepped up to the shooting line.  He looked at the target far down the range.  How had he gotten himself into this?  He should have stopped it.  Why had he not said something and refused to shoot?  It was too late now.  Everyone was watching, and he was going to look like a fool in front of all of the soldiers and the Princess.  He was going to be a laughing stock after this.

With effort Traven dismissed those thoughts from his head and tried to focus.  Blaize had given him good advice earlier in the day, and he intended to follow it.  He knew that the advice was as good for an archer as it was for a swordsman.  Blaize had told him that he needed to concentrate and clear his mind.  Traven tried to do as Blaize had instructed.  Out went the jeers and encouragement from the crowd.  Out went the frustration.  Out went the nervousness.  Out went the fear.  He continued to shut out everything, clearing his mind and focusing only on the target far down the range.

Traven stared at the small red circle in the center of the target as hard as he could.  As he concentrated on it, the world around him slowly faded away.  In the far distance he could feel the familiar warmth against his chest that always accompanied him when he did his sword forms in the mornings.  All that he saw and knew was the small red dot in the distance that seemed to slowly be growing larger.  The dot continued to grow larger and larger as it began to rush towards him, filling his vision.  When the giant red circle finally came to a rest, Traven focused on the very center of it.  He then smoothly released his first arrow.

The arrow thudded silently into the very center of the bull’s-eye.  With the red circle still filling his vision, Traven released a second arrow that he did not even remember cocking.  Outside of his world, a gasp escaped from the crowd and everyone fell absolutely silent.  The second arrow had slid right into the first splitting it in half.  Still only knowing the center of the red circle, he released another arrow that instantly came to rest in the center, splitting the second arrow as the second had split the first.  The fourth arrow soon found its home embedded in the other three.  Traven cocked his final arrow and began to let go.

Pain, fire, burning!  Traven screamed as a piercing pain ripped through his focus.  The arrow left his bow wildly and flew high over the target, embedding itself in the ground far beyond as he clutched at his chest.  With the pain, reality came flying back into his consciousness.  He realized that everyone was staring at him silently with wide eyes.  Traven gazed from the wide-eyed crowd, to the confused Princess, to the concerned Blaize.  He then let his bow fall to the ground as he hurriedly trotted off the field and into the barracks with his hand still on his chest.

Traven hurried into the barracks and to his bed.  He pulled off his shirt and sat down.  Breathing heavily, he lifted the now only warm might stone from his chest.  He could easily make out the angry red burn that it had caused.  What was he going to do?  The distraction had only cost him winning the archery match, but in a battle it could cost him his very life.  He decided that he needed to see Philosopher Studell immediately.  Maybe he would know how to prevent such a thing from happening again.  Traven changed into his fine black clothes so that he would have no problems being admitted to the back of the library where he hoped to find the philosopher.

Without paying attention to where he was going, Traven continued though the barracks, out through the fields, and into the streets of the city on foot.  His thoughts were racing from one thing to another.  From the might stone, to the Princess, to magic, to Blaize, to the searing burn on his chest.  He hoped that the philosopher could help him.  If not, he didn’t know what he would do.  Finally calming himself down, he realized that he was in a narrow, dark alley that he didn’t remember having walked into.  In the solitude of the quiet alley, he pulled the amber stone from the inside of his shirt once again.  It now only gave off its normal warmth.  Traven had no idea what had caused it to become so hot.  It was the third time that it had happened now.  He wondered what could possibly be the benefit of the magic stone growing incredibly hot so sporadically.  He considered taking the stone from around his neck but could not do it.  He had worn it every day since his father had died.  He tucked the stone back into his shirt hoping that it would not heat up again anytime soon.

Traven looked up and down the alley trying to figure out which way would lead him to a main street.  He couldn’t remember from what direction he had come and with the tall buildings rising above him, he couldn’t tell were the sun was.  He decided to walk to the nearest bend in the alley.  As he turned down it he found himself face to face with a rabid dog.  The animal was huge!  He stared back at the dog’s blood thirsty eyes for a moment before turning and running the other way as fast as he could.

The dog gave chase, bellowing as it closed in on him.  Traven turned down a side alley and then down another as the large dog remained right on his heels.  Skidding down another narrow alleyway, Traven threw his hand over his face as he passed a large pile of putrid refuse.  He continued down the alley as fast as he could and turned as it turned.  Happily he saw that the alley let out on to a larger street.  He also noticed that the rabid dog was no longer giving him chase.  Letting out a sigh of relief, he slowed down to a walk and tried to calm himself down.  He then slowly backed out into the light of the small street making sure that the dog was not going to reappear.  As he left the alley, he immediately heard a muffled scream.

30

Kadrak stepped back from his screeing dish and kicked its stand in frustration, knocking the wooden stand and the dish to the ground.  The polished silver dish clanged against the cold stones of the cave sending a loud ring into the quiet darkness.  He had given it his all but still hadn’t been able to penetrate the fog.  At least whoever had the artifact was still in Calyn.  He had pushed the fog far enough back to know that.  Wraith was still there too.  He knew that he could trust the crafty assassin to take care of it, but Kadrak didn’t like leaving things up to chance.  He wished that Wraith would take care of the problem quicker and return with the artifact.

Turning from the back of the shallow cave, Kadrak headed out of the chill darkness and into the warmth of the late afternoon sun.  Gazing over the large camp, he couldn’t help smiling despite his defeat while screeing.  His troops were anxious.  His troops were ready.  They would reach the walls of Rankdra in a few days, and soon he would be dining in his new palace.  In a few days, the whole world would know of him and fear his name.

* * * * *

Kalista let her bow slip out of her hand and fall to the ground in amazement as she watched the young man put arrow on top of arrow.  She had never seen anyone shoot so well in all of her life.  He appeared so calm, and the arrow went from quiver, to bow, to the center of the target all in one fluid motion.  She had never seen anything like it before.  As the young man began to loose his fifth arrow, Kalista jumped as he suddenly let out a piercing scream.  The arrow soared off into the field as the young man clutched at his chest and dropped his bow.

The look of pain left the young man’s face and was replaced by one of panic.  He glanced at the crowd and then at her with intense eyes.  The young man then glanced at General Blaize before hurrying off the field and into the barracks.  Kalista stood there stunned trying to figure out what had just happened.  Behind her the soldiers began to talk wildly of what they had just seen, but the rowdy crowd was soon dispersed and sent back to their training by General Blaize and the other officers.  Soon only Gavin and the large general remained.

“Well that was certainly fascinating,” Gavin said.

“I wonder what happened to him,” replied Kalista.  “He was shooting so well, and then he just, well I do not know what that was all about.”

“Oh do not worry about it, my Princess,” General Blaize said.  “I am sure he is fine.  He has been training so hard that he probably just needs a little rest from training.”  Kalista could tell that the large general was concerned for the young man despite his calm exterior.

“What is his name?” Kalista asked.

“His name is Traven my Princess.”  Kalista rolled the name around in her head, an interesting name for sure.

“You know General Blaize,” Gavin cut in, “I think what you just said about the boy needing a little rest from training is relevant for all of the soldiers.  You saw how excited they got at the little archery match.  Do you think it would benefit them to have a few days free before making the final preparations for the march?”

“I think it might do a lot for their spirits Commander General,” the large general replied after thinking for a second.  “I could have it announced tonight at dinner.”

Gavin thanked General Blaize and then began to discuss the specifics.  When they had cleared up the matter, Gavin began asking a long list of questions about more of the preparations for the march.  Kalista listened for a while but soon was bored by the endless list.  With all of the necessary preparations on his mind, Gavin had forgotten that she was even there.  She decided that she had already had enough excitement for one afternoon with the archery match and all.  She might as well return back to the palace.

“If you both will excuse me, I am going to head back to the palace.”  Gavin looked back at her remembering her presence.

“If you wish my dear,” he said.  With her confirmation, Gavin called for her guards to accompany her.  Gavin squeezed her hand with a smile in farewell and General Blaize bowed.  Kalista mounted her mare and headed away from the barracks with her escort, two guards in front, one on either side, and two behind.  She was feeling tired, and it would be nice to have a small nap before dinner.  The small party was soon across the barracks’ field and into the streets of the city.

As they rode, Kalista contemplated once again what had happened during the archery match.  It was strange that she kept running into the young soldier.  She could hardly believe it when he had stepped forward to challenge her on the archery range.  He had looked so afraid before he started shooting that she had been sure he must not have practiced much.  But with the way he shot, she knew her initial impression had been wrong once again.  She concluded that he must just be a timid person.  Almost every time she saw him he appeared nervous.  She was ashamed to admit to herself that for some reason she found his nervousness attractive even though she was engaged to Gavin.  She wasn’t sure why, but she hoped that she would not run into him anymore.

She was jerked out of her thoughts by a loud crash down the street.  Her front guards pulled up as their hands went to their swords, but soon they were calm and relaxed once again.  Kalista booted her mare forward to see what had happened.  About a block down the street an interesting event was unfolding.  A large wagon lay sideways in the center of the street.  It had apparently been heavily laden with barrels of wine, for now the barrels lay everywhere in the street, several still rolling.  She could not tell from her vantage point what had caused the wagon to tip over.  She could see, however, the result of the spill.  More than a few of the barrels had cracked when they hit the cobbled stone of the street, allowing the tasty nectar within to spill out, staining the light stones with brilliant crimson.

Most of the peasants in the crowded street watched the scene as they each tried to explain to one another what had happened.  A few rascals, however, had other ideas in mind.  She watched as several young men timidly approached a barrel whose contents were slowly streaming to the street in a low arc.  One of the young men dropped to his hands and knees, and tilting his head under the tasty stream, began to steal a drink.  Kalista searched the crowd for the owner of the wagon, but whoever was the owner was nowhere to be found.  Some of the onlookers also noticed that the owner was not present when the young men were not chased away.  Gaining courage, several more in the crowd moved forward to join the young men.  They began to sing as they drank the sweet wine.  Soon most of the crowd had joined in the festivities.

The way was soon impassable as the crowd grew larger and larger as word of what had happened spread.  Hundreds of people were singing, dancing, and enjoying the free, expensive wine.  Kalista had thought of ordering her guards to step in, but seeing the excitement in the eyes of her subjects she had decided to leave the matter alone.  If the owner of the wine brought the case to the City Watch or the palace, she would gladly reimburse him.  The City Watch soon arrived, but seeing that the Princess was not concerned with the ever growing celebration, they contented themselves with watching from the rim of the crowd to make sure that no one took the celebration too far.

“I do not believe that we will be able to continue down this street,” said Kalista.

“Wise observation my Princess,” the head guard said with a smile.  “We can turn down this avenue,” he said pointing to the intersecting street several yards in front of them.  “We can then follow the parallel street for a block or two before we cut back to the main avenue.  Shall we continue?”

“Lead the way,” Kalista replied as she fell back in the center of her escort.  She watched her merry subjects continue celebrating until she had turned down the narrower avenue and they were lost to her sight behind the tall buildings.  The small party followed the avenue for quite a while until it was crossed by another street.  They turned onto the narrow street and continued to make their way in the direction of the palace.

Kalista observed her surroundings as they started down the street.  She had never been down this street before.  It was different from the main streets she was used to but was clean and in good repair.  The street was much narrower than the other yet still wide enough to ride three abreast comfortably.  On both sides of the street, large buildings reached several stories into the air, leaving the street partly in shadow.  As they continued down the narrow street, she felt uneasy for some reason.  Glancing at her escort she could tell that they were also slightly stiffer and more alert than normal.  At first she thought her unease came from a feeling of claustrophobia with the tall buildings pressing in on the narrow street, but soon she became aware of the real reason.

The street was completely silent.  The only sounds were those of the horses’ hooves clicking on the cobbled stone.  Just a block away there had been noise of every kind, but here all was silent.  There was no one on the street besides them as far as she could see in front or behind them.  Kalista tried to dismiss her unease, telling herself that the street was so empty only because everyone had hurried to the spontaneous celebration on the main road, but the feeling she had would not go away.  She felt as if someone was watching her.  She sat tensely in her saddle as they continued on down the silent street.

The silence was suddenly pierced by two quick whistling sounds.  She glanced around but saw nothing.  Her two front guards suddenly fell from their mounts, crumpling to the ground with two loud thumps.  Kalista watched the lifeless bodies wide eyed as fear enveloped her.  Her four remaining guards quickly made a tight circle around her with their swords drawn, trying to see in every direction at once.  Kalista joined the guards in their scan of the street, but like them, she saw nothing.  All was silent except for the quick breathing of her and her anxious guards.  The air was pierced again by two more whistles, immediately followed by two more.  She watched in terror as all four of her remaining guards fell from their saddles consecutively.

Kalista danced around on her horse, too scared to even scream.  Her frozen mind tried to realize what was happening.  She was now completely alone among her six lifeless guards.  The silence was pierced once again but this time it was the sharp whistle of a person.  Almost immediately two scruffy men on horses came out onto the road from a gate down the street.  Both wore evil grins, and Kalista knew that if she did not get away quickly she was in trouble.  She jerked at her mare’s reins and started quickly back down the street.  She stopped instantly with a whimper of despair.  Two other men were already riding up the road behind her.  They both chuckled at seeing the despair on her frightened face.  She looked back and forth between the approaching riders frantically.  She was trapped!

Before giving in to complete despair, Kalista realized that if she could somehow break past them she would be free.  She slowly reached down and grabbed the small crossbow that always hung at the side of her saddle.  She would not be caught without a fight.  She tried to determine which of the four men would be the easiest to break past as they continued to close in on her.  Realizing that she was almost out of time, she chose one randomly and slammed the heels of her boots into the flanks of her mare.  The horse leaped forward and broke into a dead run at the two closest men.  Both quickly had their swords out but to no avail.  The one on the left fell from his saddle with a bolt from her cross bow in his chest, and the remaining one watched wide eyed as Kalista blew past him on the other side of the dead man’s horse.

Kalista let out a triumphant sigh as one last whistling sound shot through the air.  After a few seconds her speeding mare came crashing to the ground, sending the Princess flying forward through the air.  She hit the street and bounced across the hard stone before coming to a stop.  She lay motionless for several seconds before she could remember what was happening.  She quickly tried to pick her dazed and aching body off of the ground, but the remaining three men were instantly upon her.  One grabbed her arms and yanked them behind her back as another roughly gagged her with a soiled cloth.  Her hands were quickly bound as well as her feet.  She was then rolled over onto her back.  As Kalista’s head finally cleared completely, she tried to scream.  The scream was effectively stopped by the rag, not letting out any sound at all.

“Quit struggling little Princess,” one of the men said as he slapped her across the face.  The other two men joined him in laughing as tears came to her eyes.

“STOP!” someone shouted sharply from down the street.  The man jumped back from Kalista and whipped around with the other two.  Upon seeing who it was they all calmed down.

“Keep on walking boy,” one of them spat.  There were then a few moments of intense silence.  “I said get moving!”  Kalista propped herself up on her elbows to see what was going on.  What met her eyes amazed her.  Not far down the street the young soldier who had shot against her so well stood defiantly facing the three men.  He was once again all in black.  Kalista felt a glimmer of hope that was almost immediately snuffed out as she realized that her would be rescuer was outnumbered three to one.  She watched as the young man looked from the three men to her.  He offered a quick half smile before setting his jaw in defiance and returning his gaze to the three men.

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” one of the men said as he pulled out his sword.  “We warned you!” the man said mockingly to the young soldier as he started towards him.  The young man slowly unsheathed his sword, but other than that he did not move at all.  He watched his advancing attacker intently from his calm face with his sword gripped loosely at his side.

The man suddenly leaped forward with a yell at the young soldier.  Kalista was sure that the young man was going to be cut down, but at the last second his sword shot up to block the slash.  With blinding quickness the young man’s counter stroke left his opponent dead.  Kalista stared in amazement along with the other two men at the young man who had so effortlessly disposed of his attacker without hardly moving.  It was then Kalista remembered that General Blaize had said the young man was one of the best swordsmen in the army.  The warmth of hope slowly began to creep back into her cold body.

Kalista looked on as the other two men shook off their initial shock and bared their swords.  They then advanced cautiously toward the killer of their partner.  The young man stepped over the lifeless body at his feet towards his attackers and with the same look of calm concentration as before poised his sword horizontally at his side.  The two attackers slashed at him simultaneously, but he easily avoided their slashes blocking one and dodging the other.  He then kicked one sharply in the stomach.  As his surprised attacker stumbled back with a grunt, the young soldier unleashed his fury on the other man.  Three quick swipes left the man face down in the street, never to rise again.  The young man then struck at the third man who had barely recovered from the surprise kick.  Their swords clashed together several times before the assailant fell to the ground to accompany his partners.

The young soldier, still alert, scanned the streets with his sword ready.  At his feet the white cobbled street was stained not by the bright crimson of wine as earlier, but by the deep crimson of blood.  After several moments he relaxed and bent down and cut off a piece of cloth from one of the attacker’s sleeves.  He then used it to wipe the blood from his sword quickly.  When his blade was clean he sheathed it and hurried over to her.  He bent down at her side and with a shy smile undid the gag and pulled the soiled rag carefully from her mouth.

Kalista stared into the bright eyes of her smiling rescuer as gratitude flowed from her heart.  She was about to thank him, but his smile disappeared as a look of concern came to his eyes.  His eyes grew large, and Kalista heard a dull thud.  His eyes then rolled back, and the young man collapsed onto her, muffling her startled scream.  The young man’s limp body was almost immediately pulled off of her.  In its place a man with dark stringy hair and a thin face gazed back at her with a wicked grin.  His grin turned to a snarl as he brought something hard down into the side of her head.  The world went black.

* * * * *

Wraith walked nonchalantly away from the two still bodies and back to his horse.  He retrieved two large brown sacks and returned.  After retying the gag around the attractive princess’s mouth, he pulled the bag over her body and tied the end shut.  He then took the magnificent sword from the young man and after deftly gagging him and tying him up, stuffed him into the other bag.  He quickly rounded up two of his men’s horses and hefted the limp bodies onto them.  After making sure that they were secure, he pulled Kadrak’s seeker stone out one more time.

As he passed the stone over the sword it turned red.  The sword definitely had magical properties, but other than feeling as if it were molding to his grip Wraith had no idea what they were.  The assassin then waived the stone over the sack that the young man was in.  It returned to black once again but with small, almost unnoticeable specks of red.  With a shake of his head he pulled the stone away and it went solidly pitch black once again.  Wraith was not sure what to think about the young man, but he would have plenty of time to find out.  Wraith had watched as the young man defiantly stood against three of his small troop of cutthroats.  He had thought about shooting the man with his blow gun but had waited to see what would happen.

When the young man killed the first bandit effortlessly, Wraith had raised his blow gun, but on a hunch he had set it back down and pulled out the seeker stone.  To his surprise it was the same mottled color that it had been that night when he had attacked the caravan months before.  He did not know what to think.  The young man could not be a wielder since the stone had not turned a solid red, but apparently there was something about him that affected the stone.  Wraith had quickly crept down to the street and subdued him.  He would have killed him, but dead people did not give any answers.  He wanted to know why the stone changed around the young man.  For that reason alone he had left the young man alive.

Wraith pulled himself onto his horse and leading the other two horses, turned down the next street.  When someone stumbled upon the scene of death and found the royal guards dead the city would go into an uproar.  Wraith smiled to himself as he made his way past the unsuspecting citizens of Kalia with his prizes.  He had set out to kidnap the Princess Kalista.  He had succeeded as he always did and had even gained a magic sword and the young man whom he had followed to Calyn.  What a wonderful afternoon!

31

“Excuse me Commander General.”  Gavin looked up from the papers that General Blaize and he were discussing.  A very pale and winded city watchman stood before them anxiously waiting for Gavin to acknowledge him and let him give his message.  Gavin was slightly annoyed by the interruption, but from the look on the watchman’s face he could tell that the message must be somewhat important.

“Go ahead,” Gavin replied as he looked back down at the reports.

“The Princess Kalista has been kidnaped,” the young watchman said quickly.

“What!” Gavin shouted as he jumped up from his chair.  “Explain yourself,” he all but shouted at the quivering watchman.

“Yes Commander General,” the watchman said as he took a deep breath.  “The guards escorting her were found dead on a side road in the Capila section of the city.  The Princess is nowhere to be found.  I was dispatched immediately to give word to you and lead you to the sight of the apparent abduction.”

“Lead on,” Gavin commanded as he let the papers fall to the table.  Gavin followed the watchman quickly down the hall and out of the barracks.  He could feel the presence of the large general following close at his heels.  All three were soon on their horses and heading into the city.  Gavin was so stunned by the announcement that he did not know what to think.  His bride-to-be had been kidnapped!  A member of the royal family had not been touched for centuries.  As the realization of the situation began to finally sink in, he began to feel pangs of guilt.  He should not have let her ride back to the palace with only six guards.  He should have gone with her with the rest of the guards.  If anything happened to her he did not know if he could live with himself.

When they arrived, Gavin’s eyes were met by a confusing scene.  The small side street had been blocked off by the City Watch, and they moved aside for the three men.  Immediately in front of them lay three bodies surrounded by their own blood.  By the look of their clothes, they were poor cutthroats.  Further down the street lay all six royal guards.  As far as Gavin could see they had no wounds and there were no signs of a struggle.  Further down the road lay another cutthroat with a bolt in him, and further still lay the mare of the Princess, unmoving but seemingly untouched.  Gavin looked up and down the street trying to figure out what had happened.  Behind him, General Blaize’s eyes darted in every direction as he reenacted in his mind what had occurred.  The watchmen who had been inspecting the bodies stood up straight as the Commander General cleared his throat.

“What have you found?” Gavin asked in a steady and controlled voice.  The captain of the City Watch stepped forward with a bow.

“I am sorry but we have found no trace of the Princess Kalista or any clues as to where she might be.  Apparently no one saw or heard anything. Several of my watchmen were only one block away monitoring a disturbance that was the result of a wine spill.  They reported that they saw the Princess watching the celebration cheerfully with her escort no more than an hour ago.  After watching the scene for several moments, the Princess and her escort headed around the celebration using this street.  About half an hour ago someone heading away from the celebration stumbled upon this scene.  Even in his drunken state he hurried back to tell the watchmen who were supervising the festivities.

“They immediately quarantined the street, and we have been looking for clues and seeking out witnesses ever since.  We still have been unable to find anyone who saw the attack or anything out of the ordinary.  I have my best trackers searching for clues as we speak.  We have only begun to investigate and are still hopeful that something will turn up.  At least we assume that the Princess is unharmed.  They would not have taken her if they were not planning on a ransom or something of that nature.”  Gavin took a deep breath hoping that the captain was correct in his assumption.  He could not bear the thought of Kalista being hurt by the scum that had abducted her.

“Captain,” General Blaize cut in.  “Would you tell me how the six guards and the Princess’ mare were killed?”

“None of them had any visible wounds except for a small dart in their necks.  We assume that the darts must have been tipped with very deadly venom.”  Upon hearing this, the large general dismounted from his steed and walked over to the six lifeless guards.  Gavin watched as General Blaize knelt down next to one and turned him onto his back.  He pushed back the dead man’s eyelid and gazed into his eye.  He then peered into the guard’s open mouth.  After a moment the general turned the guard back onto his stomach and walked back to Gavin.

“Cottonweed,” the large general stated confidently.  “They were killed by the venom of the cottonweed viper.  The vipers are very rare and only live in the northeast of Balthus.  Their venom kills almost instantly.  There is your first clue captain.  The attackers either came from Balthus or purchased the venom from a trader from Balthus.  The venom loses potency with time.  It is not something that can be stored for a very long time and still have much of an effect.  Before a year’s time the venom is no longer lethal.  The venum was brought to Calyn between last spring and now.”  The captain looked from the general to Gavin and then back again.  General Blaize shrugged his shoulders.  “It’s not much of a clue, but at least it is something.”

“Thank you General,” the captain said.  After thinking a moment he asked General Blaize if he would share his thoughts about how the abduction had taken place.  “All clues, however small, will help us greatly in trying to locate the Princess.”

“I doubt that I can add anything that your trackers don’t know.”

“Share your thoughts,” Gavin commanded, urging the general to share his opinion.  From his earlier observation, Gavin was sure that the large Balthan must have other insights.  He was eager to hear any information that could possibly help in finding his dear Kalista.  General Blaize took a breath and then began to illustrate what he had been working out in his mind.

“The attack was very well planned,” he began.  “The kidnappng was not done by normal thieves.  It began with the diversion on the main street.  It effectively drew the attention of all the surrounding citizens and forced the Princess and her escort to use the vacant side street.  A very skilled assassin, hidden perhaps on a rooftop, sent his bolts deftly and silently into the necks of the guards.  With them out of the way it would be easy to capture the defenseless Princess.  The Princess tried to escape, but her horse was also brought down by the sharp shooting assassin.  She somehow killed one of her attackers before being brought down.”

“A bolt from her crossbow was found in the thief,” the captain interjected.  General Blaize smiled and continued.

“After the Princess was captured, it appears that an attempt was made to rescue her.  Whoever tried to rescue her was a decent swordsman, for he killed three of her abductors before being brought down.  For a reason that I cannot figure out he was captured also and taken.”

“How do you know this?” one of the trackers inquired.

“If he had been killed, his body would be here with the others and if he escaped, he would have contacted the City Watch.  The only other option is that he was captured and taken.  The fact that he was not killed like the guards disturbs me, for it makes no sense.”  The large general shook his head and then finished.  “After that, the Princess and the other man were somehow hidden and taken away.  I cannot be certain of the number of thieves that were involved, but there couldn’t have been too many or they would have been noticed.”  General Blaize shrugged once again.  “That’s all that I can piece together.”

“Thank you,” the captain once again said.  “While your theory follows closely with those of my trackers, you have offered several helpful insights.”

“What else can be done?” Gavin interjected.

“We are doing all that we can,” the captain responded.  “We will finish our investigation and send word to the palace tonight.  The High King has not yet been informed of the abduction,” the captain said hesitantly.  “I can send a messenger immediately if . . .”

“I will inform the High King,” Gavin stated solemnly.  “Keep all of this quiet.  We do not need the citizens to worry.  I will be anxiously awaiting your report.”  Gavin parted with General Blaize, leaving him to go back to the barracks.  Gavin then headed towards the palace to inform the High King.  He did not like being the bearer of such news but felt partially responsible for the abduction and would not try to hide his guilt.

When Gavin arrived at the palace he left his horse at the stables and with a stone face mechanically walked through the palace to the High King’s waiting room.  He stood silently, waiting as a messenger slipped inside to inform the High King of Gavin’s presence.  Gavin once again tried to think of the best way to inform the High King of his beloved daughter’s abduction, but almost immediately the messenger slipped back out and motioned him into the High King’s presence.  Gavin walked slowly into the lavishly furnished room, desperately seeking the right words to tell the High King.  His heart sank as he saw the cheerful smile of the High King.

“My boy,” the High King announced as the door was shut behind Gavin.  “Please do not bow.  You are family now.  I always wanted a son you know.  And now I have one!  How are the preparations for the march?”  When Gavin did not answer, the High King paused and took a closer look at him.  His smile slowly faded from his face as he sensed Gavin’s mood.  “What is it son?” he asked.  Gavin opened his mouth and then closed it again.  He should have let a messenger bring the dismal news.  He had made the choice however and decided that he might as well be direct.

“My High King,” he began slowly.  The rest then came out in a rush.  “The Princess Kalista has been kidnapped.”  Gavin watched the High King expectantly for his reaction.  He was surprised when the High King merely nodded his head slowly.

“When did this happen?” the High King demanded in a surprisingly calm voice.  Gavin, wishing that he could remain as calm as the High King, blurted out the details of what had happened and begged forgiveness from the High King for his failure to protect Kalista.  The High King stood in silence for several moments and then crossed the room to stand beside Gavin.  He then reached up and patted his future son-in-law on the shoulder.

“Do not be a fool and blame this on yourself.  Sometimes things happen that are beyond our control,” the High King paused as if remembering something and then continued.  “Do not let this harrow you down.  I am sure that my daughter will be found soon.  No one would dare harm her.  The best trackers in Kalia are worrying about finding her.  Do not worry also.  She will be found.”

Gavin stared back at the High King who gave him a small, but reassuring smile.  He could not believe how well the High King had taken the news of the capture of his only daughter and heir to the throne.  Gavin was then told to go and change and try to relax before dinner.  He watched as the High King left his side and walked back to his desk in such a stately manner.  As Gavin left the High King’s presence, he understood a little better what it meant to be the High King of Kalia.  Gavin was not nearly as calm as the great monarch, but felt much better after standing next to the firm man.  His confidence had lent comfort to Gavin.  Gavin decided to follow the High King’s advice and headed for his chambers as he tried in vain to forget about the situation.

* * * * *

Blaize headed slowly back to the barracks, once again playing the abduction through his head.  He knew that he had missed something important but couldn’t figure it out.  He shook his head.  He had been surprised to hear of the kidnapping, but this type of thing was not unheard of.  During his lifetime members of the royal family in Balthus had been taken for ransom several times.  It was disturbing however that no ransom note had been left.  It would be interesting to see what developed over the next few days.

As Blaize began to cross the fields surrounding the barracks, he turned his thoughts back to his responsibility as a general in the royal army.  The troops would be grateful when they heard that they would have the next few days free.  They had been training hard and really could use a small break before the long march to Candus.  Blaize had not made an overstatement when he had told the Commander General that the men had been training so hard, especially Traven.

With the thought of Traven, concern flooded back into Blaize’s mind.  He knew that the stress hadn’t caused Traven to react as he had.  The young man had grabbed at the stone that he always wore around his neck.  The stone had somehow caused the sudden pain.  Blaize would talk to Traven of it in the morning when they did their exercises.  They needed to get to the bottom of it.   If something like that happened in battle Traven could very easily lose his life.  They definitely needed to talk about it in the morning.

Blaize pulled up in front of the barracks and dismounted his faithful steed.  A few long strides had him back within the building.  He put away his worried thoughts until another time and sat back down at his desk to finish what he and the Commander General had been doing before they had received the disturbing news.

* * * * *

The High King lay in the dark and let the deceitful face fall.  Despair began to press down on him as tears came to his eyes.  His beloved wife had been taken from him and now his only daughter.  Why?  He had worked all of his life for his people, and this was his reward!

The City Watch had come with their report as promised.  They still had no news of his daughter but had made at least one interesting discovery.  On the pant leg of one of the dead cutthroats, a tracker had found bristles from a stanchad reed.  The stanchad reed only grew on the outskirts of the Black Marsh.  Several trackers would be checking along the rim of the marsh for any other clues during the night and in the morning a decision would be made as to their next actions.

The High King shuddered at the thought of his precious daughter in the hands of the filthy cutthroats.  He still had hope that she would be returned to him unharmed, but that little hope was fading away in the darkness of the night.  His hope had not saved his dear wife from the darkness nor would it save his daughter.  Shuddering again, he tried to get some sleep, but his room felt unbearably cold.

32

Sound slowly began to come back.  A howling wind rushed over his body, chilling him to the bone.  Traven tried to shake the dizziness as he pushed himself off the ground and slowly opened his eyes.  A wave of nausea washed over him, and he let himself sink back to the ground with a groan.  He had a horrible headache.  He took several deep breaths and pushed himself up into a sitting position.  Once the dizziness began to fade away he slowly opened his eyes once again.

As his vision came into focus, Traven’s mind also came into focus and everything that had happened rushed back.  Traven took in his surroundings from his position on the cold stone floor.  A single torch burned next to a small wooden door, lighting the room.  He glanced around the small room and was not surprised to find that the small door was the only one that led out of the room.  There were also three large windows with their mouths open wide to the darkness of the late winter night.  There was nothing else in the small, circular stone room except for him and the Princess.

Traven stared at the form of the sleeping Princess briefly before breaking his gaze away from her.  He slowly pushed himself up off the floor and walked over to the nearest window.  The cold wind blasted his numb face as he stepped back from the window with a gasp.  The windows would definitely not offer a way out.  He had not even been able to see the ground!  In the darkness he had only seen mist far below.  He moved to the center of the room as far away from the windows as he could get.  They were trapped in the top of an impossibly high tower.  Traven took several deep breaths to try and calm himself.  He had never even imagined being up so high in the air.

He wasn’t sure what to do.  He had always dreamed of adventure.  He had dreamed of fighting bandits and saving princesses, but he had never dreamed of being captured.  Some rescue it had been.  The only thing he had accomplished was getting caught also.  At least the Princess was not all alone now.  A movement caught his eye, and he once more turned to stare at the sleeping princess, forgetting momentarily the problems that he faced.  She appeared so fragile and so beautiful.  He considered trying to wake her but couldn’t work up the courage to do it.

Instead he just sat down in the center of the room and rubbed his throbbing temples as he contemplated what would happen to them next.  Since they had been captured and not killed, Traven assumed that they didn’t have to worry about being murdered.  He understood why the Princess might have been kidnapped, but could not figure out why he had been taken also.  Why hadn’t he been killed along with the royal guards?  The Princess was a valuable bartering tool, but he had nothing of value except for . . .  He grabbed for his chest and with a sigh of relief found his amber stone still there.  His sword however, was gone.  He shouldn’t expect for his captors to leave him with his weapon.

From off to his side, the Princess mumbled something and Traven stiffened up, but he calmed down when he realized that she was just mumbling in her sleep.  He watched as she shifted restlessly.  He wondered once again if he should try waking her but decided against it.  He would just wait for her to wake up on her own.  He heard footsteps approaching the door, and he forgot all about the Princess.  He could hear muffled voices as the footsteps drew nearer to the door.  The footsteps then stopped, and he heard several loud clicks as the locks on the outside of the door were opened.  Traven watched anxiously from his seat on the floor as the door swung inward.

“I see someone decided to wake up,” said the first man.  He was tall and gaunt with long, stringy black hair.  The instant that Traven made contact with the man’s grey, beady eyes, he knew that the man was undoubtedly evil.  At his waist hung Traven’s sword.  Behind him stood a thick man who held a blazing torch in one hand and a drawn sword in the other.  He was dressed in the same type of worn clothes as the thieves who had attacked the Princess.  The tall man was dressed much better, though his clothes were not fancy.  Traven didn’t feel threatened by the man holding the drawn sword, but for some reason the tall man made Traven very uneasy.

The man stared at Traven for several moments before walking towards the Princess.  The thick man stayed at his position in the frame of the open door.  Traven watched as the tall man nudged the Princess with the tip of his boot.  When the Princess made no response the tall man cocked back his foot.  Traven cringed as the man kicked the Princess sharply in the stomach.

The Princess Kalista’s eyes shot open as she let out a yelp and grabbed at her stomach.  With dazed eyes, the Princess pushed herself up and unsteadily stood.  As she took in the scene, her eyes cleared and took on a frightened look.  Traven followed her example and rose to his feet also.  He felt slightly less intimidated looking at the tall man eye to eye.  The Princess looked around for several moments before the fear in her eyes turned to anger, and she turned to face the tall man.

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded.  When the tall man only answered with an amused smile, she continued.  “Do you know who I am?  You will be executed for what you have done!”  Traven watched on, amazed at the Princess’ words.  He didn’t think that they should try to upset their captors if they wanted to get away safely.  Fortunately the tall man only seemed amused.

“Princess,” he began with a wicked grin on his face.  “You are in no position to make promises you cannot keep.  And of course I know who you are.  Otherwise I would not have gone through so much trouble to capture you.  Now please keep your pretty little mouth shut unless I give you permission to speak!”  The Princess turned red as she shook her head with a scowl.  She opened her mouth to say something, but what it was that she was going to say Traven would never find out.  He stared in amazement as the tall man back handed the Princess across the mouth, effectively stopping her words.  Tears came to the Princess’ eyes as her hand rose to touch the trickle of blood coming from her split bottom lip.

“I think we now understand each other,” the tall man said with a grin.  Traven could hardly believe his eyes, but the man seemed to have enjoyed hitting the helpless Princess.  Traven’s dislike and fear of the man continued to grow.  Anger began to boil through his veins.  He fought to restrain himself from lashing out at his evil captor.  He tried not to flinch as the man turned his attention away from the now silent Princess and focused on him.  “You might be wondering why you are still alive.”

Traven stared back into the beady eyes of his captor.  The man looked as if he was waiting for something.  After several moments the man reached inside his tunic and pulled out a dark black rock.  Traven could see tiny specks of red, marring the black surface.  As the man lifted the stone up and began to approach him, Traven could feel the familiar warmth of the stone around his neck grow hotter.  He resisted the urge to grab at it as the man continued to move the black stone closer to him.  When the stone was only a foot from his chest, the man shook his head.  He then lowered the stone to the hilt of Traven’s sword.  Traven watched with surprise as the stone changed to deep red.  It must have been a might stone.  Off to his side he heard the Princess gasp.  The tall man smiled and slipped the rock back into his tunic.

“You are still alive boy, because I need some answers.  I do not like it when I don’t know something.  I make it a point to find out what I don’t know.  As you can see, the stone I possess is not an ordinary stone.  It changes from solid black to red when in the presence of something magic.  As you saw, my new sword is magic.”  The man grinned mockingly at him as he patted the hilt of Traven’s sword.  “The stone also changes when you are near, boy.  It doesn’t turn solid red however.  Maybe you could explain why.”

Traven felt his mouth go dry under the intense stare of the evil man.  He didn’t know how to answer.  He knew if he said anything about his might stone, it would be taken from him.  He wondered if the man would find out anyway and be more angered.  After struggling in his mind for a long second, Traven ended up saying nothing at all.  He answered with a simple shrug of his shoulders and a blank look on his face.

“I think you do know something,” the man replied with cold eyes.  “It really doesn’t make a difference.  I will finish off what I started when I destroyed your caravan outside of Kavar.  I’ve followed you since then.”

It only took a moment for Traven to realize what the man was saying.  He had been among those that attacked Maritza’s caravan.  Traven’s hand unconsciously drifted to the red cloth tied around his arm.  This man had been among the murderers.  He took an angry step forward without thinking.  He stopped in mid step, however, as he found the tip of his sword against his throat.  If he had not stopped quickly enough, he would have been dead.  As it was, he could feel a trickle of blood sliding down his throat.  He remained perfectly still, glaring once again at the amused man.

“This is too much fun,” the grim man chuckled.  “As long as you don’t move, I will let you live one more day.  I will let you think about death throughout the night.  It will make your death more enjoyable tomorrow.”  Traven gasped with relief when the man whipped back his sword and sheathed it in a fluid motion.  The gaunt man gave him one last menacing look before turning to the still sniffling Princess.  “And do not get your hopes up my Princess,” he said mockingly.  “There will be no ransoming.  I don’t kidnap for money.  I kidnap to kill.  Your fate will be the same as his,” he said motioning to Traven.  “I will leave you now to get some rest.  Tomorrow I will make my last trip into the city.  When I have everything I need for my journey home, I will finish my task and be done with you.  Enjoy your night and the sunrise tomorrow.  They will both be your last!”

Traven watched in amazement as the man turned and sauntered out of the room laughing.  The thick man with the torch shut the door behind him.  The clicking of the locks confirmed that once again there was no way out.  Traven watched the locked door in despair as the fading footsteps carried the man’s wicked glee out of hearing.  He wiped away the blood from his throat.  He had no doubt that the man had meant what he said.  In his eyes he had seen the total disregard the man had for the lives of others.  He had never seen such coldness in another human being’s eyes.  They had to figure a way to get out of their high prison.  If not, the Princess and he would not live to see another night.  He turned to the Princess and was unpleasantly surprised to find her glaring at him.

“Why did you not awaken me before that man kicked me?” she demanded.  “Did you think it would be amusing to see me beaten like a commoner?”  Traven stared back at her with his mouth open as the Princess rubbed at her sore stomach.  He couldn’t believe the words of the Princess.  She hadn’t thanked him for attempting to rescue her.  She hadn’t even cared to know his name.  Instead she had berated him.  He was once again reminded that beauty too often was only skin deep.

“Sorry,” he managed to say.  The Princess did not seem to be satisfied with his answer, but he didn’t know what else to say.  She glared at him for a few more minutes before saying anything else.  When she did say something, he was glad that it was about a different subject.

“We need to get out of here!” she said sternly.  Of that Traven agreed.  “So how are we going to get out of here?”  He was once again surprised by the question and once again did not have a good answer.

“Well, um, I . . .”

“Are you an imbecile?” the Princess cut in.  Traven was not sure what the word meant, but by the way she had said it he was sure it was an insult.  “Do you know how to speak?  You are always just shrugging your shoulders or mumbling unintelligible things with that dumb look on your face.”  Traven felt his face flush.  He had definitely not left a good impression on the Princess.  He wanted to say something in his defense but didn’t know what to say.  Of course that only seemed to prove what the Princess had just said about him.  “All right!” the Princess almost screamed in exasperation.  “I will figure something out myself.”

Traven watched silently as the exasperated Princess strode over to the door and tried to yank it open.  When it did not budge, she crossed the room and looked out one of the windows.  He was surprised to see her actually lean part way out of the window as she looked down.  She definitely did not have the fear of heights that he harbored.  The Princess soon left the window and walked around the room several times before finally giving up her search for a way out.  She slid down under the center window and sat with her arms crossed and a stony expression on her face.

Traven was somewhat disappointed when she sat down.  He had enjoyed watching her graceful figure circle him.  He knew he should be trying to think of a way out of their predicament but couldn’t help himself.  She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.  It was a shame that she disliked him so much.  He wondered if part of it had to do with him almost beating her in the archery match.  As he thought about it, he had never actually done anything to her to make her so upset with him.  In fact, he had risked his own life to save hers, and thanks to that he was going to die along with her.  He could have just turned back up the alley and left the Princess to be kidnapped, and he would still have his freedom.

Traven thought about pointing out to the Princess that it was actually her fault that he was here in the first place, but then he finally realized why she was trying to hold the stony expression on her face.  She was trying not to cry.  He suddenly felt bad for his thoughts.  His mind was once again working normally, and he began to realize what was really happening.  The Princess was not mad at him.  She was just frightened.  New feelings rushed into his troubled heart.  He suddenly felt the desire to comfort the Princess and let her know that everything would be all right.  The only problems were that he was not sure that everything was going to be all right, and he didn’t know how to comfort her.  If she was not the Princess, maybe he would put his arm around her, but he realized that he couldn’t do that.  He decided he could at least offer some words of comfort.  After working up the courage, he opened his mouth.

“Don’t worry my Princess,” he finally managed to say.  “Everything will be all right.”  When the Princess raised her eyes from the cold stone floor, Traven wished that he would have just kept quiet.

“What do you mean that everything is going to be all right!” the Princess shouted.  “There is no way out of here, and I am sure that that filthy man meant what he said.  Tomorrow we will both be dead.  How can you say that everything is going to be all right?”  He watched helplessly as tears began to stream down the Princess’ cheeks.  He felt somehow guilty for her sorrow and looked down at his fidgeting hands ashamed.  After several minutes, the Princess stopped sniffling.  “I think we should try and get some sleep,” she finally said in a surprisingly calm voice.  “Maybe with some sleep and the sunlight of a new day our minds will be clearer and we can think of something.”

Traven looked up to find the Princess completely composed.  The only evidence of her earlier breakdown was the slight redness around her eyes.  Other than that, she was the perfect image of a princess of Kalia.  Traven nodded his agreement to her suggestion.  He realized how tired he actually was.  It seemed strange that he could be so tired after being unconscious all afternoon.  He stretched out in the center of the room on the hard stone floor and wished he was back in his bunk in the barracks.  Almost the second that he shut his eyes, however, he was asleep.

He was awakened shortly thereafter by the freezing wind rushing through the high tower room.  The torch was now out.  It had either run down or the rushing wind had put it out.  Traven’s skin was covered in goose bumps, and he rubbed his hands quickly over his arms.  He tried to fall back asleep but could not.  It was absolutely freezing!  The stone floor only radiated coldness and the strong wind, rushing from one gaping window to another, swept away all of his body heat.  He did not think that he would be getting much sleep.  Through the window he could see the bright stars in the now clear moonless sky.  He couldn’t believe how much the temperature had dropped.

Traven glanced to where the Princess lay against the wall and saw that she was shivering uncontrollably as well.  He was surprised that she could sleep through the frigid night.  Almost instantly however, he saw her eyes flit open.  He found himself staring directly into bright eyes that were sparkling like the stars outside.  He turned away and was glad for the darkness that hid his once again flushed face.  When he looked back, the Princess had pulled her knees up tight against her body in an effort to ward of the cold night.  She was still shivering uncontrollably however.

Traven was about to offer her his cloak but realized that it was gone.  Thinking about it, he realized that the Princess’ cloak had also been absent when he had awakened after being captured.  No wonder they were so cold.  Their captor must have done it on purpose.  Traven’s anger was kindled once again against the evil man.  The only warmth he had to offer the Princess was that of his own body.  He dismissed the thought almost the instant it came.  He crawled over to the wall near the Princess in an attempt to escape the wind.  It was better than in the center of the room but still was very cold.  Traven pulled his arms in close to his body and closed his eyes.  He needed to get more sleep.  He needed his strength for the next day if there was any hope of escaping.  He cleared his mind and tried to focus on warmth.  He was pleasantly surprised when the familiar warmth of the stone against his chest increased slightly, lending just a little more warmth to his shivering body.

* * * * *

Kalista watched behind slit eyes as the young man crawled over to the wall several feet from her and once again closed his eyes.  When she was sure that he was not going to open them again, she opened hers all the way and watched him.  She once again noticed how handsome he was.  It was not like Gavin’s mature beauty but more boyish.  She was surprised to see a small smile creep onto his face.  She had no idea what he could be happy about.  Maybe he had drifted back off to sleep and was dreaming one last time of something pleasant.  She was afraid that she would never be able to fall back asleep in the freezing darkness.

Watching the young man, Kalista felt sorry for the things she had said to him earlier in the night.  She had lost control of her emotions and lashed out at the only person she could.  She felt bad about the whole situation.  The only reason that he was here was because he had tried, and nearly succeeded, in rescuing her.  She decided that she would apologize to him in the morning.  He did seem like a nice person.

The young man stopped shivering while she watched him.  Kalista stared at him in amazement.  She had no idea how he could not be as cold as she was.  He looked so warm though.  She debated whether or not she should move closer to him for warmth.  It was not proper, but in the end she decided that if she did not move next to him she would freeze to death.  Still shivering uncontrollably, the Princess edged along the wall until she was next to the young man.  She slowly leaned against his body being careful not to awaken him.  The warmth of his body flowed into her own, warming her enough that she was finally able to stop shivering.  Kalista shut her eyes and made herself comfortable.  The soldier was definitely softer than the stones of the ancient tower.  She soon forgot about the cold and drifted off to sleep against the warm body of the young man.

* * * * *

The small smile on Traven’s face grew larger as the Princess cuddled up against him.  He was thankful for the added warmth.  Shortly he could hear the breathing of the Princess slow and even out as she drifted off to sleep.  Traven soon fell asleep also, thinking of how soft the Princess felt against his side.

33

Blaize slipped into some old clothes and quietly left his room.  He walked down the long, silent hall that led to the training fields.  When he reached the end of the hall, he braced himself as he opened the door at the end of the hall and stepped outside into the fresh, early morning air.  Not a soul was in sight except for the sleepy-eyed sentries who straightened when they saw him.  Of course, he hadn’t expected anyone else to be up at this hour.  Normally Traven and he were among the first to wake up.  After the announcement at dinner the night before that they would have a few free days, almost all of the troops had headed out into the city to celebrate.  Blaize imagined that most had celebrated a bit too much.  He didn’t expect to see any of the troops up and about for several more hours.

Blaize reached his normal practice field and began to run through his forms.  He was surprised that Traven wasn’t up yet but assumed he must have taken his advice and slept in a little.  When Traven didn’t appear by the time he was half way through his forms, he began to wonder if he was all right.  Traven had not missed doing his forms in the morning since he had first arrived to the barracks.  Blaize hadn’t seen him at dinner the night before.  In fact, he hadn’t seen the boy since the incident yesterday on the archery range.  He decided that he would have to look in on him when he was done.  He needed to talk with him about the stone.

Blaize finished his forms and headed back towards the barracks with a healthy sweat.  The chilling wind cooled his body down as he walked back into the barracks.  The halls were still empty, and he moved through them in silence.  When he had washed up and changed into his military garb, he decided to check in on Traven before starting a new round of paper work.  The soldiers had several free days, but unfortunately Blaize did not.  He had to make sure everything was ready for the impending march.

Blaize found the door that led into the bunks where Traven slept and silently peeked inside.  He waited a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.  When they had adjusted, he was surprised to find Traven’s cot empty.  In fact, it appeared as though it hadn’t even been slept in.  He shook his head and shut the door to the room.  He then went to a pair of sentries nearby and asked if any of the soldiers had gotten up early and left.  They confidently replied that they had not seen anyone except himself, General Blaize.  He thanked them and headed to his office to get a start on the day’s business.

As he sat down at his desk and began to ruffle through papers, he found that he couldn’t concentrate.  His mind kept returning to Traven.  It wasn’t like him to be so irresponsible.  If he hadn’t returned the night before, where had he stayed?  Blaize knew that he didn’t have any friends or family to stay with.  Maybe he had stayed at an inn.  That was probably it.  He had wanted to escape the barracks for a night and had stayed at an inn.  Blaize tried to convince himself that everything was fine but for some reason the nagging feeling that something was wrong would not go away.

Blaize tried to shake off the feeling and dipped his quill into the pot of ink.  He didn’t know why he was always worrying about the boy.  He could take care of himself.  Traven was one of the best swordsmen in the whole army.  He could easily take on three swordsmen at a time if he needed too.  Blaize set his quill against the sheet of paper and froze.  The bloody scene of yesterday’s abduction rushed back to the front of his mind.  In his mind he saw the three cutthroats lying together on the quiet side street.  Someone had taken on all three before being captured.  Traven!  Blaize let the quill drop as he rose from his desk.  He had to know for sure.

He pulled on his cloak and left the barracks.  He was soon mounted and riding swiftly into the city.  The sun was almost up and the streets were slowly beginning to come to life.  Blaize hurried through the still uncrowded streets.  He pulled up in front of the City Watch and swung down off his horse.  He burst through the front doors and demanded of the front clerk to be led to the Captain of the Watch.  He had never been in the building before and had no idea where the Captain’s office was.  The clerk upon recognizing Blaize’s double eagles, the insignia of a general, quickly obliged and led him around several turns to the Captain’s office.  Blaize burst into the room before the clerk had a chance to announce him.  The Captain of the Watch looked up from his desk with a frown at the unannounced intrusion.  His eyes were bloodshot, and Blaize realized that he had probably been up most of the night.

“General Blaize,” the Captain began as he slowly rose from his desk with a scowl.  “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I need some information about the abduction of the Princess,” Blaize replied flatly.

“General, I am sure that you are interested in it, but this is an investigation of the City Watch not the Royal Army.  This is a very difficult situation, and the information is classified until the Princess is found.  You may be a general in the army but . . .”

“Captain,” Blaize cut in angrily.  “I am not here to play.  I believe one of my soldiers was captured along with the Princess.  That makes this my concern also.”

“How can you be so sure?” the Captain inquired.

“I am not certain, but if you can answer my question I will know.”  The Captain motioned for Blaize to go on.  “I need to know if there was blood smeared on any of the three dead attackers’ clothes.”

“No there were no smears on any of their bodies.  It appeared that the man who killed the three used a piece of one of the attackers’ clothes that had been cut off in the struggle to clean off his sword before continuing on.”  The Captain shook his head before continuing on.  “I do not see the relevance of your question.  Most swordsmen will clean their blade after a fight.”

“Was the piece of cloth from the sleeve of the attacker’s sword arm?”  The Captain of the Watch thought for a few seconds and then called for one of his messengers.  Blaize waited impatiently for the messenger to verify if the cloth was indeed sliced from the sword arm of one of the attackers.  The messenger returned shortly with a smile on his face.  The cloth was indeed sliced from the sleeve of the sword arm of one of the attackers.

“How did you know that . . .” the Captain began before Blaize cut him off.

“That does not matter,” Blaize stated firmly.  “Now I am sure.  I need to know what your trackers have discovered since yesterday.”  A look of frustration came over the Captain’s face but he answered.

“We have traced the bandits to the marsh.  I have had my best trackers out all night around the perimeter looking for the place of entry and any other signs.  They will be here soon to make a report of their findings.”

“Thank you for your help,” Blaize said as he turned to leave.

“If you will wait until they get here . . .”  The rest of the Captain’s words were cut off as the door shut behind Blaize.  He hurried out of the small building and swung up on his horse.  He now knew where to begin his search.  He would find Traven and the Princess quickly.  He didn’t have time to wait for the City Watch to discuss and make plans.  He would act immediately.  He had a strange impression that if he waited, he would never see Traven again.  He dug his heels into his mount’s sides and galloped away though the city northward towards the marsh.  As he flew through the streets, the first rays of dawn struck the tops of the city towers.

* * * * *

Wraith waited patiently for Filner to unlock the tower door.  He fingered the hilt of his new sword.  He really had outdone himself this time.  He had captured the Princess of the grand country of Kalia and found the boy who was the reason that Kadrak had sent him here in the first place.  It was interesting how he had run into the boy by chance.  He could now return to Balthus having completed his task.  The capture of the Princess had just been a personal indulgence.

Filner finished the last lock and swung the door open for his master.  Wraith strode into the room, his eyes darting.  He did not expect the kid to try anything, but Wraith was still alive because he always expected the unexpected.  Sunlight streaming through the large window illuminated the room brightly.  The boy and the Princess were already awake and sitting next to each other against the wall.  They hadn’t been up for long, however, for the Princess was still wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Wraith was delighted to see the fear in both of their eyes, but was also pleasantly surprised to see the determination mirrored in the boy’s eyes.  Wraith noticed immediately that the boy’s muscles were tense, that his hand was resting on his calf just above his boot, and that he was ready to spring at any moment despite being seated.  It would be fun killing this one.  He knew that the boy had a dagger in his boot.  He had left it there to make things more interesting.  He had been surprised that the boy had not tried to use it the night before but figured that in all of the excitement the boy had forgotten about it.  Wraith could see that he had remembered the dagger now.

“I expect that you slept well,” Wraith said flashing his prisoners a smile.  They didn’t answer, not that he had really expected them to.  He had only stopped by to leave them with one last thought before he headed into the city.  “I just wanted to let you know that the night’s sleep has not changed my mind.  I will be killing you both personally today.  You have several hours of life left.  Enjoy one last meal!”

Wraith tossed two stale biscuits at the two of them and watched with pleasure when the two made no move to catch them.  He waited while Filner stepped away from the door and set a bowl of water on the ground near them.  Still neither made a move.  Wraith grinned at the two one last time and moved to the door.  He turned his back to his prisoners daring the boy to try something stupid and said loudly to Filner, “Well, you can’t say that I didn’t offer my guests a meal.”

When the boy didn’t try anything, Wraith continued through the door and waited for Filner to close it and relock all of the locks.  The boy was not as stupid as he had thought.  He would kill the boy first for the Princess to see, and then he would finish her off.  He could barely contain his excitement at the thought as they descended the stairs.  When he reached the front room of the tower, he unbuckled the fancy sword and slid it into a bag of odds and ends.  He then pulled on his older one.  He didn’t need to attract any unnecessary attention.

He was sure the High King’s trackers would be out and about.  Eventually they would trace the kidnapping to the marsh and find the tower.  They would be surprised when they finally found the Princess’ dead body.  He would leave her in such a way that there would be no mistaking her identity.  Rumors would spread and fears would rise.  Calyn would be ripe with fear when Kadrak moved against Kalia.  Wraith chuckled to himself as he strutted out into the courtyard.  His horse was ready and waiting along with two off his small band.  He gracefully swung into the saddle.

“You are in charge Filner,” he said to his loyal second.  “I trust that you will have everything ready by the time I return and that the prisoners will be ready.  Remember that the rewards for success will be sweet, but the reward for failure is death.”  With that, Wraith swung his horse around and headed off the small dry island and into the swampy marsh.  By midday he would be back with the materials, and Filner would have everything else ready.  He would dispatch of his prisoners quickly but thoroughly.  By the early afternoon, he and his band would be on their way to Balthus.  A grin once again crept onto Wraith’s face.  Sometimes things were just too easy.

* * * * *

Traven relaxed his tense muscles as the footsteps of the two men faded away.  He pushed himself to his feet and taking a deep breath, walked over to one of the windows and looked down.  In the morning light, Traven saw that the tower was on a small island of dry land.  All around the tower lay the ruins of an ancient city.  Most of the buildings had long ago sunk into the murky depths but several were on patches of dry ground and still stood.  He could see clearly the guards that were in the courtyard far below, but farther out into the marsh it was impossible to see much.  A shroud of rolling fog covered the majority of the marsh.  The tower rose above the fog, and in the far distance he could make out the sprawling city of Calyn.

Traven watched as the two men who had just left the room walked out from the base of the tower.  The leader mounted his horse and after saying a few words to the other turned and headed off into the marsh with two others.  Traven watched until the men were lost from sight in the fog.  He turned from the window and looked at the Princess.  They only had a few hours before the leader would return.  They needed to be gone before he got back.

Traven had remembered the jeweled dagger hidden in his boot when he had awakened earlier.  He had stayed still so as not to awaken the Princess who was still asleep against his side, but his mind had been racing.  He had formed several plans for escape by the time the two men had approached the door.  He had gently shaken the Princess awake with the memory of the previous night still fresh in his mind.  He had thought about attacking the evil man, but had decided against it since the man had a sword and he only had a dagger.  He was sure the man would have easily disarmed him and ended his life.  He had decided that it would be best to wait to try to escape until after the dangerous man was gone.

“Traven.”  He was snapped out of his thoughts by the warm caress of his name from the lips of the Princess.  He stared at her in shock.  How had she known his name?  “That is your name is it not?”  Traven managed to nod his head in the affirmative.  “I just wanted to say I am sorry for the things I said last night.”  He was surprised at what she was saying.  “I also wanted to thank you for trying to save me yesterday.”

“You’re welcome,” Traven mumbled back.  He couldn’t believe the change in the Princess.  The night before she had seemed so different.  Maybe she was not that bad after all.  The Princess stood up while he continued to stare and tried to fix her matted hair.  She then turned her attention back to him.

“We need to figure out how to get out of here before that man returns,” she stated.  “If we are still here when he gets back, I am sure he will kill us.”  Despite the Princess’ calm exterior, Traven could read the fear in her clear blue eyes.  He opened his mouth to say that he had a plan, but nothing came out under the intense stare of the Princess’ mesmerizing eyes.  He turned away from her and cleared his mind.

“I have a plan,” he said, surprised by the steadiness of his own voice.  He turned back to the Princess to find her intently listening with a spark of hope back in her eyes.  “I have been thinking about something, but it is pretty risky.  I don’t think we have any other choices though.  We could die trying to escape, but at least we’ll have a chance.  If we wait around, I’m afraid that we will die for sure.”  Traven paused to let what he was saying sink in.  When the Princess urged him to continue, he pulled the dagger out of his boot and laid out what he had in mind.

* * * * *

Blaize took one last survey of the dry island from his position in the tall reeds.  All of the guards were lazing around in the front courtyard.  There were only ten guards left in total.  Three men had left in the direction of the city a little earlier.  Five were posted outside of the only entrance to the ancient tower, while five others milled around on the inside of the adjacent building.  He had thought about going in through the front but didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks when other options were available.  He could possibly take on all ten at once, but one true arrow could end the rescue attempt.  It would be easier to face them with Traven’s help once he and the Princess were free.

It hadn’t been difficult for Blaize to find them once he had reached the edge of the marsh.  He first slipped past the few trackers that were still at the edge.  He had then plunged into the marsh and began to cut back and forth through the marsh as he pushed deeper into it.  It didn’t take long for him to come across a recently traversed trail that led directly into the center of the marsh.  He had followed it swiftly until in the distance he had seen the ancient tower rising out of the mist.  Since the path led directly to the tower, Blaize had left the trail and headed slowly out into the perilous marsh.  When he was far enough away from the trail that he couldn’t be seen from it, he had headed directly toward the tower once again.

The closer he had gotten to the tower, more and more ruins of ancient buildings had begun to appear.  He was surprised at how large the ancient city must have been.  When he had gotten close to the tower, Blaize left his horse on a mound of dry ground beside the low remains of an ancient wall.  He had continued the rest of the way on foot.  He had silently slipped through the marsh to the edge of the large island that supported the still standing ancient tower.  Hidden in the reeds, he had seen someone look out the window near the top of the tower.  He was almost certain that it was Traven.  A man had soon therafter exited the tower and commanded the others to make sure the prisoners in the tower were taken care of.  Blaize’s gut instinct had been confirmed.

He took one last look at the guards and silently made his way around to the back of the tower.  He took a deep breath and suddenly burst from the reeds.  As he ran across the solid ground to the tower, he whipped out his war crescents in one fluid motion.  Upon reaching the base of the tower he slipped the crescents into the chinks in the ancient stones.  He began to pull himself, hand over hand, up the back face of the tower.  He had no sooner begun to scale the tower when three frantically shrill cries escaped from the room at the top of the tower.  He pushed his arms to move faster.  If only he was not too late!

* * * * *

“Don’t worry Filner,” Gaul told him.  “We have plenty of time to finish before Wraith gets back.  Let us finish our game.”  Filner rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he spat.  “You can finish the game.  But you had better make sure everything is done before Wraith gets back.  If I die, I will take you with me!”

“Oh please, if you . . .”  The thief stopped as three frantic cries suddenly pierced the air.

“What could possibly be happening,” Filner growled as he headed into the tower.  “Gaul, come with me.”

“But the game,” whined Gaul.

“Now!”  Filner did not wait for an answer as he started up the stairs.  Behind him he could hear Gaul grumbling as he followed.  Several more cries sounded from the top of the tower.  Filner rushed up the stairs as quickly as he could.  If anything happened to the prisoners before Wraith returned, Filner knew that he would pay for it with his life.

34

Wraith cursed under his breath.  At the edge of the marsh he could see another tracker.  He had already spotted two others.  He hadn’t expected them to still be out and about, searching for signs of the Princess.  He thought of trying to slip by them but knew that it would be impossible to slip back into the marsh with all of the needed supplies.  It looked as though he would have to alter his plans slightly.  He turned his mount around and headed back towards where they had come from.

“Hurry up,” he snarled over his shoulder.  “We need to pack up and leave now!”  Wraith urged his steed to move a little faster down the trail that led though the murky marsh.  It would be wise to be gone as soon as possible.  He didn’t want to have any entanglements with a large band of the City Watch.  They needed to get back to the tower and finish the whole business before midday.

Wraith wanted to begin with his prisoners as soon as possible so that he would not be too rushed.  When he was done, his band would be ready to leave.  They would be gone before anyone found their way to the tower.  They could get supplies outside of the city.  Wraith smiled at the thought of how the City Watch would respond when they finally reached the ancient tower and found their Princess.

* * * * *

“Those were very convincing screams,” Traven said congratulating the Princess.

“Thank you,” the Princess responded with a nervous smile.  She then grew serious.  “I was just thinking about what would happen if this does not work.”

“Don’t worry,” Traven replied trying to sound at ease.  “Just remember to stay right behind me.”  They quit talking as the sound of pounding feet neared them.  Traven tried to keep a calm face as he stepped to the side of the door.  Inside, his stomach was in turmoil.  He couldn’t believe that he had convinced the Princess to go through with this.  He was afraid that the escape attempt would only end with them dying sooner.  He also knew, however, that this was their only chance.  Once the leader of these bandits returned, there would be no more chances.

Traven took a deep breath and cleared his mind as Blaize had taught him to.  He had already made his decision.  Out went the fear.  Out went the hope.  Out went everything.  He watched in silence as the Princess took up her position in the middle of the room, directly in front of the door.  At his side, Traven held his jeweled dagger.  He saw the Princess tense as the locks on the outside of the door were clicked open.  He calmly waited for the door to open.  Far away he heard a strange clanking noise, but he did not allow himself to think about it.  The door had his undivided attention.  The last lock clicked and the door swung inward.

“What’s going on in . . .”  The man’s words were cut off with a loud crack as the door slammed back into his face with shattering force.  With blinding speed, Traven swung the door back open and leaped over the thick man’s unconscious body and into the small landing outside their prison.  Another thief burst out of the stairwell.  Traven was on top of the wide eyed scoundrel before he had time to get his sword out.  Traven left his dagger in the man’s chest and snatched his sword as the man crumpled to the ground.

With the man’s sword in hand, Traven waited emotionlessly at the top of the stairwell for the rest of the thieves to come but none came.  He let his sword drop slightly to his side and looked back for the Princess.  He watched as the Princess made her way around the body of the thick man, the whole time staring at his bloodied face.  It looked as though the force of the blow from the door must have broken the man’s nose.  The Princess was soon at Traven’s side.  He motioned for her to be silent, and they started down the stairs moving swiftly but quietly.  He strained his ears for any sound that others were on the way, but the only sound he heard was the strange clinking sound that he had noticed earlier.  They continued down the stairs in almost complete silence.  The stairs wound downward for what seemed like an eternity, until at last they reached the bottom.

Traven paused at the base of the stairs and peered out into the large bottom room.  It was empty except for a few large, old bags that were filled to the brim with all sorts of odds and ends.  They left the protection of the stairwell and crept out into the room.  He stayed close to the wall with the Princess following at his heels.  He listened intently for any signs of danger.  In front of the building he could hear the laughter of several of the men.  Behind him, the Princess’ breathing was sharp in his ears.  He began to creep past the large bags when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.  The Princess bumped into him before she could stop.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered in his ear.  Traven didn’t answer.  The stone around his neck had suddenly grown very warm, and he felt as if something was pulling at him from the direction of the large bags.  He tried to shake off the feeling but to no avail.  The stone remained almost painfully warm against his chest.

“There is something in one of those bags,” he murmured under his breath.

“There are many things in those bags,” the Princess whispered back harshly.  “We do not have time to scavenge through the belongings of these thieves.  We need to get out of here!”  Traven recognized the desperation in her voice and realized that he had already begun to rummage through one of the bags without thinking.  A large smile spread across his face as his hand closed around a familiar object.  He stepped back from the large bag, pulling his sword free.  “How did you know it was in there?” the Princess asked in a hushed voice as he slipped the old, rusted sword he had been holding into the bag.  He shrugged in response and began to creep toward the entrance once again.

Behind him, Traven heard the Princess mumbling something under her breath, but she quickly was in step behind him and dropped back into silence.  He was happy to have his sword back in his hand.  It felt so comfortable, almost like it was a part of him.  He also happily noted that his amber stone was now only slightly warm, as it was when he practiced his forms.  Traven dismissed these thoughts from his mind and once again focused completely on the task at hand.  When they reached the entranceway, he peered outside ever so slowly.

There were only three guards in the courtyard.  Two were crouched against the far wall playing cards while the third stood in the center of the courtyard watching.  Traven could hear the other guards inside the adjacent building.  Maybe things wouldn’t be too bad after all.  He figured that if they could get past the three in the courtyard quickly enough, they could lose the others in the swamp.  Traven quickly formed a plan and turned to the Princess.

“There are only three guards in the courtyard,” he whispered.  “The others are all in the other building.  I think we can get through the three and out into the swamp before the others come to help.”

“How are we going to get through the three guards?” the Princess asked.

“You are going to distract them while I come up from behind,” Traven said with a smile.  He quickly explained to her his plan.  She would sneak around the edge of the courtyard and head for a missing section in the short wall that led out into the swamp.  When the guards saw her, Traven would attack from behind as she slipped away.  He would then rejoin her in the swamp, and they would head into its concealing foliage and mist.  She agreed with his plan, and offering him a weak smile, she slipped out into the courtyard.  He watched her graceful figure as she silently circled around the courtyard.  Traven readied himself for action.  As soon as the guards’ saw the Princess, he had to act fast.  He turned his attention from the Princess to the guards.  Grasping his sword with both hands, he waited for the turn of the guards’ heads that would signal him into action.

The guard in the center of the courtyard finally turned his head in the direction of the Princess, and Traven leapt into action immediately.  He throttled himself though the doorway and into the courtyard.  The one guard had only taken a single step in the direction of the escaping Princess when he fell to the ground, knocked unconscious by the flat of Traven’s sword.  The other two guards were on their feet, baring their swords as Traven rushed them.  They began yelling for help as he bore down on them, but their pleas were to no avail.  They had been drinking heavily, and Traven dispatched of them quickly.

He turned from them and raced back across the courtyard, his job done.  When he reached the break in the wall, he yelped as a sharp pain shot up his leg.  Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a bowman fitting another arrow from the entrance of the other building.  Traven quickly jumped though the break and out of sight of the bowman.  He glanced down quickly at his left leg and was relieved to find that the arrow had only skimmed the outside of his thigh.  It didn’t hurt that bad but was bleeding profusely.  He had no time to patch it up however.  The bowman was sure to come after him with the remaining four guards.  Traven quickly picked out the Princess’ fleeting form and headed into the swampy marsh after her.  She glanced back as he splashed into the knee deep water and waited for him.

“You are bleeding,” the Princess exclaimed when he reached her.

“It’s nothing,” he said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him.  “We have to find a place to hide fast.  The other guards will be after us in no time!”  The Princess shrugged free of his hand and kept alongside him as he trotted quickly away from the tower.  When they reached an ancient tree, Traven swung behind it and glanced back from the shelter of its trunk.  He let out a groan at what he saw.

“What is it?” the Princess asked as she peered around him.

“They are right behind us,” Traven almost shouted.  “I am leaving them an easy trail to follow.”  He watched for one more second as the five thieves trotted easily through the marsh following the crimson trail of his bleeding leg.  “We’re going to have to outrun them,” he announced bitterly.  “We don’t have time to bandage my leg up.  If we wait any longer they’ll catch us.”

Traven turned in what he hoped was the direction of Calyn and began running faster than before.  He could tell that the Princess was struggling to keep up with him, but they had to move as fast as they could.  Behind them, he could hear the excited yells of the thieves as they spotted the fleeing prisoners.  He grabbed the Princess’ hand and started running as fast as he could.

* * * * *

Blaize was almost to the window when he heard a loud commotion down below in the courtyard.  He took a deep breath and continued hand over hand.  The ground was now very far below.  Once he reached Traven and the Princess he would have plenty of time to worry about what the guards were up to.  Right now he only needed to worry about reaching the window.  He covered the last few spans to the edge of the window and smiled with relief.  He had finally made it!  After carefully grabbing a hold of its edge, he swung his body up and through its frame.

Blaize’s smile turned to a frown as he found the room deserted.  He was too late!  He hurried to the door and stopped.  After a split second of confusion, he let out a sigh of relief and chuckled to himself.  He now knew the source of the commotion that he had heard down in the courtyard.  Two men lay dead in the outer room, one with Traven’s jeweled dagger in his chest.  If Traven had waited a little longer to make his escape, Blaize would have been at his side.  Oh well, Blaize thought as he recovered Traven’s dagger and quickly wiped it off.  He should be able to catch up with them soon enough.

Blaize straightened from the dead cutthroat’s body and hurried down the spiraling stairs, listening for any signs of danger.  All was silent except for the fall of his boots on the hard stone steps.  When he reached the bottom, he quickly crept to the entrance and peered into the courtyard.  Three bodies lay motionless.  There was no sign of Traven or the Princess and no sign of the other five guards.  He knew that if there were still five guards left, he needed to get to Traven as soon as possible.  Stepping out into the courtyard, he stopped as the three men who had left on horses earlier came through the courtyard entrance.  He grumbled to himself.  Nothing ever worked out as you planned.  Blaize sighed and waited calmly as two of the thieves dismounted from their horses and rushed at him.

* * * * *

Wraith watched curiously as his two men rushed the large Balthan who was standing calmly at the entrance of the tower.  Three of his men already lay motionless in the courtyard.  Wraith wondered what had happened in the short time that he had been absent.  He turned his full attention back to the Balthan as his men closed in.  His fellow Balthan stood calmly without a weapon in either hand.  At the last possible moment, the Balthan ripped out his swords and put an end to the lives of his two assailants.  Wraith smiled at his countryman with respect.  The man had not wasted any more energy than was needed.  He was very skilled.

The large man even appeared familiar and after several moments Wraith’s eyes gleamed with recognition.  He had seen him many years ago in Balthus.  In fact, he had killed the man’s lover while the man had sloppily held at bay more than ten others.  It had just been another job with a heavy reward upon completion.  He wouldn’t have even remembered the man but for his extraordinary size.  The man had definitely improved his skills since then.  Wraith slid off his horse with a wide grin.  This would be fun!

* * * * *

Blaize stared back at the cruel grin of the apparent leader of these thieves.  He was thin and had dark stringy hair.  He was also a Balthan and had an evil glint in his eyes.  Blaize could tell he was a man who was not afraid of anything.  The perplexing thing however was the recognition that Blaize read in the man’s eyes.  He was certain that he would have remembered meeting a man who emanated such evil.  He was sure he had never seen the man before now, but the man seemed to recognize him.

“You don’t know who I am do you,” the thin man stated.  “Our paths have crossed once again it seems.”  Blaize stared back at the man calmly.  “It’s strange that you survived death in Bejik to die in a marsh on the far side of Kalia.”  Blaize kept the surprise he felt from showing on his face as the man cackled in glee.  How could the man possibly have known his home town?  He had not been to Bejik since he had left his home when he was not much older than Traven.

Blaize’s thoughts were interrupted by a flash of sunlight off metal.  He dove to the side as a two sided dagger soared past him and into the front room of the tower.  Blaize rose out of his roll with his swords raised in a cross, successfully blocking a second dagger with a clang.  He lowered his blades and glared back at his attacker.  The man’s eyes were wide with surprise.  The surprise was soon replaced by the evil gleam once again.

“You have improved your skills greatly.  It pains me to have to kill such an accomplished fellow assassin.”

“I am no assassin you spineless pig,” Blaize growled.  “I fight face to face.  I don’t sneak up on the helpless from the shadows.  I have honor.”  Anger flashed back at Blaize in the eyes of the self-proclaimed assassin.

“We will see what your morals do for you now,” the man growled back.  “They didn’t save your lover, and they will not save you!”

The assassin then tossed back his heavy cloak and ripped out a sword and a long crooked dagger.  All of the talk of his hometown and then the sight of the crooked dagger sparked something deep in Blaize’s memory, but he refused to let anything break in on his concentration.  He could tell by the movements of the assassin that he was a skilled fighter.  He knew how to use his weapons.  Only long experience and having learned to trust his instincts had saved Blaize from the flying daggers.  The assassin was quick, and Blaize knew that this battle would not be easy.  He had no fear though.  All emotion was far away.  He was one with his swords.

Blaize moved forward towards the awaiting assassin.  He didn’t want to be backed up against the tower when the battle began.  He advanced to the center of the courtyard and stopped.  The assassin also took several steps forward until they were only a small distance apart in the very center of the ancient courtyard.  With crumbling walls surrounding them and a damp mist enshrouding all beyond, the two masters faced each other in deathly silence and isolation.  One would leave the ancient remains of the once great city while the other would pass out of memory just as the city had.  They stood motionless, their eyes concentrating on each other, waiting for the one who would make the first move.

Blaize made the decision and attacked first.  He lunged suddenly at the awaiting assassin.  The assassin blocked the blow as he moved quickly to the side and let his crooked dagger fly towards Blaize’s chest with lightning speed.  Blaize blocked it quickly and returned a fierce swipe.  The assassin jumped back nimbly avoiding harm once again.  They both paused to evaluate the other, one last time.  The assassin flashed an evil grin and snarled at his large foe.  Blaize’s face was a stone of indifference as he fell into the trance of total concentration.

The stillness was broken as they clashed once again in a whirl of blades and sparks.  The silence of the marsh was pierced by the sharp clanging of metal as the two masters made their way back and forth across the courtyard, one advancing and then the other.  Blaize fought methodically, memorizing the attacks and defenses of his opponent, patiently looking for an opening.  The battle raged and still no one had taken the advantage.  The silent tower was the lone witness of the epic battle taking place below in its courtyard.

Blaize finally saw an opening and at the exact moment brought his right sword up with incredible force against the assassin’s dagger, sending the dagger flying through the damp air.  The small amount of satisfaction was slashed immediately, however, as Blaize felt a sharp sting in his shoulder.  With only a cringe of his teeth, he realized that the assassin somehow already had another crooked dagger in his hand.  He watched the pleasure in the man’s eyes as the blood began to trickle down his arm.  The man was evil beyond any Blaize had ever fought.  In his eyes, the mighty warrior saw the assassin’s joy in inflicting pain upon others.

His attacker suddenly picked up his attack in a ferocious frenzy.  Blaize was reminded of a rabid forest wolf when it had drawn blood of its victim.  Blaize blocked the frenzied attack, desperate to keep his attacker from slicing into him again.  The assassin’s quickness was amazing.  Sweat broke out on Blaize’s brow as the assassin pushed him back closer and closer to the tower.  He tried to find an opening to push his attack but could barely keep a solid defense against the flashing blades of his opponent.  He was suddenly forced to drop to the ground and roll to the side.  His only other option had been death when the assassin’s blade had poked through his defense.  As it was, he could feel a biting pain from the nick on his head.  The assassin cackled with glee as he jumped to clash blades once again with Blaize.

The demented man didn’t deserve to live any longer.  Blaize pushed his muscles and skill as far as he could as his swirl of blades picked up fury.  He knew that he needed to end the fight before he lost too much blood.  The assassin’s smugness began to fade as the blinding barrage of blades forced him back.  He no longer had the opportunity to attack but was now on the complete defensive.  The assassin held him at bay for several minutes but could not match the strength and fury of the mighty warrior.  The assassin began to leave openings in his frantic desperation to keep the blurring blades off of his physically exhausted body.  Blaize finally knocked away the assassin’s dagger and followed up with blinding speed and ruthlessness.  His elbow crashed into the man’s chin as his sword jarred the assassin’s remaining weapon loose.  Blaize then knocked the dazed assassin to the ground.  He quickly tried to draw another weapon and get up off of his back, but Blaize gave him no opportunity.  The assassin’s eyes widened as his face was met by Blaize’s fist.  As the disoriented assassin tried to recover his senses, Blaize sheathed one of his swords and twirled his remaining one.  Gripping the hilt with both hands above his head, he brought his blade down in a mortal blow as he dropped to a knee.  Blaize buried his sword tip straight down into the ground through the evil man’s body.

The assassin’s scream echoed off the tower and the surrounding walls before disappearing forever.  Once again, the ancient courtyard was enshrouded in silence.  The only sound that met Blaize’s ears was his own heavy breathing.  He stared at the motionless body before him, glad to have rid the world of the man’s vileness.  He stood up, and placing a foot on the lifeless body, pulled his sword free.  He then bent over and cleaned off his sword before re-sheathing it on his back.  With one last glance at the evil man’s face, Blaize wrapped the man’s cloak over him and straightened back up.

Blaize checked the slash quickly on his shoulder and was relieved to find that it was not deep at all.  His head wound was also very shallow.  The crooked dagger had barely nicked him.  The thought of the dagger tugged once again at his memory.  He walked over to one of the discarded daggers and turned it over in his hands.  He was about to drop it when he noticed the small “W” scratched into its hilt.  The memory of Sherrial’s death came rushing back to him, almost knocking him from his feet.  Blaize turned with boiling anger in his eyes and threw the dagger viciously at the cloak covered assassin in a burst of rage.  He regretted that he had killed the villainous scum so quickly.  The assassin deserved to have died a slow and painful death.  Suppressing the anger within, he forcefully turned away leaving the body behind.  He quickly trotted out into the marsh in search of Traven and the Princess, trying to clear his mind.  At least Sherrial’s soul could now rest in peace.

35

Old trees and crumbling buildings flew by as Traven continued running as fast as he possibly could through the knee deep water of the marsh.  He was beginning to tire from the loss of blood, however, and he was no longer having to pull the Princess along but was barely able to keep up with her.  In fact, it was taking him quite an effort just to keep from stumbling.  As they ran past a large tree, his foot slammed into one of its gnarled roots.  He threw up his arms to brace himself as he fell, crashing into the murky water.  He gasped as the chilling water slammed into his hot face.  As soon as his hands hit the bottom, he pushed himself back up to his feet.

“Are you okay?” the Princess asked worriedly as she slowed to a stop.

“I’m fine,” Traven replied as he trotted up to her.  “We need to keep going.”

“I am not sure how much farther I can keep this up,” the Princess said.  “I am exhausted.”  Traven knew she was right.  He was tired also and his leg ached terribly.  At least the bleeding had stopped.  Their best bet would be to find a hiding spot where they could rest before continuing on.

“All right,” he said.  “We’ll find somewhere to hide and wait until we are ready to go on.”  The Princess agreed and they continued on, slower than before, searching for an adequate hiding place.  In the distance, Traven could still make out the sounds of their pursuers.  To his left, he spotted some more of the ancient ruins on dry land and changed direction.  They could easily find a place to hide amongst so many broken buildings.  He was grateful when they reached the edge of the large island and were once again on dry land.  The cold dampness had begun to sink into his very bones.  At least it had numbed his leg and stopped the bleeding.

Traven led the Princess down what must have once been a large avenue.  On either side the ruins of once grand buildings rose into the air.  Some now only rose several feet, but others rose several spans.  Staring at the ruins, he had a strange feeling that he had been here before.  He knew it was impossible and shook the ridiculous notion away.  The voices of their pursuers were getting louder.  He knew that they had to find a hiding place quickly.  He stopped and turned to survey all of the surrounding ruins.  One of them would have to do.  Looking over his shoulder, he could see the thin tower rising in the distance.  It rose out of the billowing fog, standing majestically as a black void in the night sky.  Traven shook his head, trying to clear it as he remembered his dreams.  It was impossible!  He had never been here before.  How could he have dreamt of it?  He looked back down the main street.  Buildings stood silently on both sides of the avenue until they were stopped abruptly by a grand plaza.  The plaza was not grand anymore, but there was a large open area immediately in front of them.  Traven knew the cave was nearby.  It seemed to pulse, calling to him.

“What’s wrong?” the Princess asked startling Traven.  “You look like you have seen a phantom.”

“I know where we can hide,” Traven said excitedly, shaking off his initial shock.  “Follow me!”  Without another word, they hurried down a side road between the remains of two buildings.  In the distance, he could make out the small hill that rose up suddenly.  The hill was covered in murky foliage, but he had no doubt as to where the entrance to the cave was located.  He walked right up to the sheer side of the hill and turned to the Princess.  “We can hide in this cave.”

“What are you talking about?” the Princess said in exasperation.  “This is just a hill.  We need to get in one of those building before . . .”  She stopped in amazement as Traven reached forward and pulled the dense mass of vines and moss to one side, revealing the entrance of a cave.  “How did you know?”  the Princess managed after a few moments of silence.  He shrugged in response.  He couldn’t tell her that he had seen it in a dream.  She would think he was crazy.  A swamp rat suddenly burst out of the dark entrance startling him backwards.  The Princess let out an earsplitting scream.

“Sorry,” the Princess apologized.  Traven groaned.  In the distance he could already hear the excited shouts of their pursuers.  The Princess had effectively given away their hiding place.  He considered trying to find somewhere else, but he knew it was too late.  The shouts of the thieves were approaching rapidly, and he was too tired to run anymore.  His leg was cramped, and looking at the Princess who was still breathing heavily, he knew that they would not get far if they tried to outrun their pursuers.

“It’s too late now,” he told her when she suggested trying to find somewhere else.  “Head down into the cave and hide.  I’ll wait here at the entrance and try to stop them.  If I can’t, you can stay hidden until they have gone.”

“But . . .”

“There’s no time,” Traven said cutting the Princess off.  “You must hurry!”  The Princess stared at him for a moment before offering a worried smile.

“Good luck,” she said with genuine concern before taking a deep breath and heading off carefully into the cave.  Traven followed her into the entrance of the cave where he waited.  He watched as the Princess headed away.  She looked back once and opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind and continued down the tunnel.  Traven watched her vanish around a corner before turning his gaze outside.

Their followers were already coming into view.  Traven unsheathed his sword silently and waited just inside the cave.  From in between the ruins of the two buildings, five thieves came into view.  Traven muttered under his breath. He had hoped that they had split up, but they were all still together.  He knew he could normally take them all on, but he was exhausted and sore.  He took a deep breath and cleared his mind as the thieves got closer.  He waited paiently out of sight for them to reach the entrance of the cave.  The thieves abrubtly stopped with confused looks on their faces.

“Where’d they go,” one of them spat.  “I know the scream came from right here!”

A shimmer of hope sparked in the expanse of Traven’s calm.  They couldn’t see the entrance.  Maybe they would just move on, and he wouldn’t have to fight them.  The shimmer dwindled however when one of the guards got down on his hands and knees and began to study the ground.  He quickly picked out their trail and followed it with his eyes until he was looking at the ground directly in front of Traven.

“They went in there,” he said confidently.

“Where?” another said peering at the sheer face of the small hill.  “There’s nothing there!”

“There must be a small crack or something that they squeezed into.  Their trail leads directly into the face of the hill.”  The man then began to chuckle.  “They’ve done us a favor.  They’re trapped!”

Traven knew that the man was right, but it was not over yet.  He wouldn’t go down without a fight.  The cave was narrow enough that only one of the thieves could attack him at a time.  He figured he should be able to handle one at a time even in his weakened condition.  Traven looked on as the five thieves pulled out their swords and walked slowly towards him.  When they got to the side of the hill they pulled up and began poking around with their swords, looking for the entrance.  Two sword tips pierced the screen of foliage and slipped into the cave.  With excitement, one of the two jumped forward and burst through the foliage and into the cave.  The thief fell to the ground lifeless without even a scream.  His body hit the ground with a dull thud as his useless sword clanged against the stone floor.

The other thieves jumped back from the entrance yelling curses at the hill.  Traven waited in silence for the next one.  There was a quick discussion amongst the thieves.  They made a decision and the largest of the four broke away from the group and cautiously approached the cave with his sword out in front of him.  Traven braced himself just inside the entrance of the cave.  He knew that it wouldn’t be so easy this time.  He no longer had the element of surprise.  When the man reached the edge of the hill, he slashed at the foliage, clearing it away from the entrance of the cave.  He grinned menacingly at Traven, who was now in full view of his attackers.

Traven brought up his sword and blocked the man’s slash as he lunged into the cave.  He then counter attacked, but the man was good and easily parried Traven’s blade.  The cave echoed with the sharp sound of metal on metal as the two opponents attacked one another, both fighting for their lives.  Traven concentrated on the other man, looking for an opening.  The moment came, and he struck smoothly, ending the duel.  As the man fell to the ground alongside his comrade, Traven realized how weakened he really was.  The wound on his leg had reopened from the strain and fresh blood was once again trickling down his leg.  In his ears, his heart pounded loudly along with his heavy breathing.  He knew that if he didn’t end this soon, the three remaining thieves would be able to overpower him.

As a third thief attacked, Traven made up his mind.  He pushed his body to its limit and attacked with surprising ferocity.  The surprised thief fell quickly, and Traven jumped over him and into the midst of the remaining two thieves.  He swiped at one to push him back and then attacked the other.  Traven kicked the man in the stomach knocking him to the ground.  He turned to face the other and ducked to avoid the thief’s blade flying at his head.  Traven was moving slower than he expected and received a glancing blow on the top of his head.  He popped back up and finished of the thief before the other had even had time to get up.  Traven turned and threw himself on top of the last thief as he was climbing to his feet.  One last clang of swords rang in the misty ruins before his opponent’s sword fell onto the moist ground, never to be used again.

Traven wiped away the blood from his eyes as he looked around him haggardly.  All was silent but his beating heart and his ragged breathing.  He stumbled back inside the cave and slumped down against the wall.  He tried to fight off the coming darkness but had no strength left.  The blood continued to flow from his fresh head wound unchecked, and Traven slowly slipped out of consciousness as the mist enveloped him.

* * * * *

Kalista turned around a bend in the cave and continued slowly onward.  She was afraid for Traven.  She had seen his skill, but she had also noticed his exhaustion.  His face was so pale.  She did not want to leave him at the entrance alone, but she had no other choice.  She hoped desperately that the young man would be all right as she continued deeper into the cave.  The cave began descending quite sharply.  With one hand on the wall for guidance and balance and the other out in front of her, Kalista slowly pushed on, hoping that there were no more swamp rats or anything worse.  The air was so stale, however, that she was almost certain that nothing living had been this deep in the cave for years.

Behind her in the distance, she heard metal clashing against metal.  She unconsciously began to walk faster and with a start realized that the passage was not getting darker but was actually getting lighter!  As she neared another bend, she could see the walls of the cave clearly in the dim light.  The closer Kalista got to the sharp bend, the brighter the tunnel became.  She had no idea what the source of the light could be.  Perhaps there was another way out of the cave!  She cautiously approached the sharp bend and slowly peered around the corner.  Her mouth dropped in astonishment at what met her eyes.

Kalista stepped from around the corner and marveled.  This part of the cave was no longer formed by nature.  It was manmade.  The floor leveled out and was perfectly smooth.  The tunnel was now twice as wide and slightly taller.  The walls and ceiling were as smooth as the floor.  The perfect smoothness was not what caused her astonishment however.  Kalista was astonished by the source of the light.  Every fifteen feet there were small shelves cut into the wall on both sides.  In each shelf burned a single flame.  There were no torches, no candles, just a single flame burning eerily in the center of the rock shelves!  The floor was covered with dust, and it was apparent that no one had been there in a very long time.  She knew that it was impossible for a flame to be burning so long with no apparent source, but she saw it happening before her very eyes.

As she began to make her way down the ancient hall, her mind stunned, she wondered if she had somehow fainted from exhaustion and was dreaming.  With every step, a small puff of dust rose from the floor, leaving the mark of her boots, attesting to her passage.  At the far end of the hall, something seemed to be glowing.  As Kalista continued down the dimly lit hall, she realized that it ended in two large brass doors.  The brass was still impossibly polished and reflected the dim light of the small flames brightly.  She paused breathlessly in front of the large doors.  They were absolutely beautiful.  They appeared brand new and had designs sculpted into them.  She was awed by the intricate designs of a city and strange writing that she did not recognize.  She stared in reverence at the beautiful relic of a time long past and forgotten.

With ever growing curiosity, Kalista placed her hands against the bright doors and pushed.  They swung inward effortlessly.  So effortlessly, that the she almost fell forward onto the ground.  Regaining her balance, her breath was once again stolen.  Her eyes grew larger as she tried to take it all in at once.  She found herself in a large chamber that was much brighter than the dimly lit hall leading to it.  The room was perfectly round with two rows of shelves and small flames encircling the entire chamber several feet above her head.  The domed ceiling soared high above her, and in the center of the dome, a giant flame blazed, suspended in midair.  The floor of the chamber was covered by blue and white tiles, all in perfect condition.

The large chamber was empty but for a single golden chest that shone brightly in the center of the room.  It sat slightly above the ground on a deep blue dais.  Mesmerized by the brilliant chest, Kalista walked out into the large chamber towards it.  Her boots clicked against the tile floor and echoed back and forth across the room.  She almost felt like a trespasser for disturbing the silence the hall had maintained for countless years.  As she drew closer to the chest, she saw that it was even more intricately carved than the brass doors.  She also noticed that the stale smell of the hall was being replaced by a putrid stench.  Wrinkling her nose, she continued onward.  When she reached the dais, she stepped up onto it and discovered where the stench was coming from.  On the other side of the dais, a large hole gaped open.  It had been hidden from view by the dais.  The large circular hole was surrounded by a thin border of bright red tiles.

Kalista turned her attention from the foul smelling hole back to the golden chest at her feet.  It was so beautiful.  As she bent to touch it, a sickening burst of air rushed out of the hole behind the dais blowing back her hair.  As her gaze was drawn back to the hole, something suddenly shot out of it, knocking her backwards off of the dais.  Lying on her back in a daze, she stared in horror as a gigantic serpent rose from the hole.  She had never even imagined that such a beast could exist!  It looked like something from a nightmare.  It quickly coiled itself behind the dais with its horrific head high above the golden chest.  Kalista jumped to her feet and turned to run.  She had not gone a span when she fell hard on the floor with a scream, as her feet were snatched out from under her.  She frantically clawed at the smooth tile as the creature pulled her back to the center of the room with the tip of its slimy tail coiled tightly around her legs.

Turning onto her back, Kalista stared upward with ever increasing fear at the nightmarish serpent.  Its dull green body shone in the light of the flames as the slime of the marsh dripped off of its scales.  Its red eyes burned as they peered down upon the helpless victim.  She tried to break away but found it to be impossible.  With dread she stopped struggling.  The immense creature then opened its mouth revealing hundreds of razor sharp teeth that dripped with saliva.  She watched in horror and began screaming hysterically.  Her death had finally come!

* * * * *

Traven was suddenly jerked back into consciousness by some sound.  Lost and confused, he wondered what had happened and what had disturbed his sleep.  With his head still swimming in fog, the deathly silence of the marsh was broken once again by frantic screams.  He had no idea what was going on but recognized the far off screams as those of the Princess.  She was in trouble!  She needed his help!  Stumbling to his feet, Traven began unsteadily deeper into the cave.  The screams of the Princess continued getting more and more frantic.  He began moving faster, using the wall for support.  He fell several times but kept moving down the dark passageway toward the sound of the Princess’ screams.  As he got closer and closer to the screams, he realized that the passage was also getting brighter.  With his vision still hazy and his mind fuzzy, he continued stumbling forward towards the cries.  Suddenly the wall disappeared, and he fell forward on his face.  Darkness came once again but dissipated at the sound of one last scream.

Traven’s clouded mind noticed that the scream came from immediately nearby as it echoed all around him.  Weakly pushing himself up, he was able to make out the sleek form of the Princess several spans in front of him.  Above her, a giant serpent was poised to strike.  From the depths of his mind, he finally realized what was happening.  He tried to scream out, but he didn’t have the strength.  Traven knew that he had to do something, but he didn’t even have the strength to stand.  He reached out weakly towards her with his hand as tears blurred his vision.  He watched helplessly as the serpent began its descent and searched for some last spark of strength within him.  He had to do something!

Suddenly the world stood still.  Traven’s vision was no longer hazy.  He saw everything in the room sharper than he had ever seen in his life.  His clouded mind was now clear and focused.  The serpent’s wide open mouth was frozen only a span above the motionless Princess.  The motionless Princess’ beauty was marred only by the expression of inexplicable horror and doom on her face.  Above her the air of the large chamber somehow appeared to have substance, and he felt as if he could see beyond the physical world to other things.  The air shimmered and grew thicker.  From his outstretched hand, he could almost see a bolt of lightning.  He willed it to stretch to the head of the giant serpent.  He couldn’t really see it, but somehow he knew that it was there.  In the distance he felt excruciating pain, but he ignored it.  The only thing that mattered was the life of the Princess.

The lightning bolt had to be real!  The substance of the air in the chamber slowly began to move and swirl around where he knew the bolt of lightning was even though he still couldn’t actually see it.  He tried to pull the bolt into existence but felt as if his mind had slammed into a stone wall.  Fighting back the darkness, Traven struggled to remain conscious and clear his hazed vision.  As his vision once again cleared, he realized with horror that the serpent’s mouth was now only a foot above the Princess.  Time hadn’t stopped altogether but had only slowed down.  He knew that if he didn’t do something immediately, the Princess would die.

Traven could still feel the bolt of lightning just out of reach.  He focused on it once again, and the substance of the air began to swirl around it faster and faster.  He slowly tried to pull the bolt into existence but was once again met by the solid barrier.  He somehow had to break through it!  The Princess’ life depended on it.  Traven gathered all of the strength that he possessed.  He had to do everything he could, even if it meant giving his own life.  With all of his remaining strength and force of will, he reached forcefully for the bolt once again and was slammed into the invisible barrier.  Blackness began to set in, but he continued to struggle against the barrier towards the bolt.  The barrier suddenly no longer felt solid but only incredibly thick.

Traven struggled through the thickness on the verge of death as pain beyond description rolled over him.  He felt as though his mind and very essence were being ripped away from him, but he continued reaching through the barrier.  The pain seared into his very soul, torturing him for all eternity.  At last he felt the bolt in his grasp.  He wrapped himself around it numbly, holding it tighter and tighter.  With the last of his strength, he forcefully ripped it back though the barrier and in to physical existence.  There was a boom louder than sound, a flash brighter than light, and darkness blacker than death.

* * * * *

The serpent reared above her head and poised itself to strike.  Kalista knew it was all over as the serpent began its lightning quick descent.  Suddenly there was a deafening sound and a blinding flash of light above her head.  A shock wave slammed into her back throwing her forward onto her face.  She lay on the ground stunned as acrid ashes began to fall all over her.  After several moments she pushed herself off the ground and began coughing.  There was ash everywhere in the now hazy room.  She looked around confused.  What had happened?  Where was the serpent?  Why was she still alive?  She looked around with these questions swimming chaotically through her dazed mind.

As she turned, her eyes caught sight of something dark several yards out the doorway and down the hall.  Focusing on it, she realized that it was a body.  Not just a body, but Traven’s body!  She ran toward the crumpled heap with horror.  She slid to a stop by his side.  He lay lifeless on his back.  His shirt had somehow been burned off and his chest was a mess of charred skin and blood.  His face was almost grey.  Kalista timidly bent down and grabbed the young man’s hand.  It was cold and lifeless!  The High Princess of Kalia fell on top of Traven’s decimated body and sobbed.

* * * * *

Blaize hurried though the ruins, following the vivid trail left by the others.  He turned his steed in between the ruins of two once great buildings and hurried forward.  In front of him he could make out the bodies of two of the thieves.  As he got closer, he saw three other bodies just on the inside of what looked like a small cave.  He was relieved to find that all three belonged to the thieves.  Blaize chuckled to himself as he jumped off his horse.  He had taught Traven well.  As he looked around in the inside of the cave, he found a pool of blood that did not belong to any of the dead thieves.  A trail of blood led away from it down the tunnel.  He began trotting down the tunnel.  Traven or the Princess was bleeding badly and would need his help.

As he continued into the cave he could make out a faint sound.  After several seconds he realized that it was someone screaming.  Whipping out his swords, Blaize began to run down the tunnel.  No sooner had he begun to run, when a deafening boom sounded from below.  The cave got brighter for a split second, and the floor lurched out from under him, knocking him to the ground.  He was immediately back on his feet.  He continued on confused.  The screams had stopped.  He also realized that he could now see without trouble.  The passage was actually getting lighter.

As he jumped around a bend, his eyes widened in amazement.  The natural cave opened into a manmade hall, lit by small flames.  At the end of the hall, he could make out someone in the distance.  Hurrying forward, he realized that it was the Princess crouched over something.  Behind her, the hall opened into a large chamber.  From the entrance to the room, ash floated into the hall.  The stale smell of the cave had also given way to the acrid smell of burnt flesh.  He gave a start when he finally realized what the Princess was crouched over.  It was Traven’s body!  As Blaize neared, the Princess turned to face him with red eyes and sooty tears marring her cheeks.

“He is dead,” she sobbed.  “It is my fault. He is dead!”  Blaize dropped to the ground beside Traven’s body and quickly pushed the sobbing Princess off of him.  Touching Traven’s body, he recognized the coldness of death.  Fighting tears, he dropped down, pressing his ear against the young man’s charred and bloodied chest.  He then sat back up with a sigh of relief and a large smile.  The boy was still alive.  He was barely breathing, but still alive!

“He’s going to be all right my Princess,” Blaize said.  He watched as the Princess wiped the tears from her eyes.

“He is still alive?” the Princess asked with a spark of hope in her blurred eyes.  Blaize nodded as he wrapped his cloak around Traven’s cold body.

Blaize then stood and took a better look at his surroundings.  What had happened?  In the large room, ashes were still settling to the ground, blackening the bright tiles that checkered its floor.  Just inside the room, hundreds of tiny shards of what looked like glass were catching and reflecting the unnatural light of the flames.  In the very center of the room sat a golden chest on a deep blue dais.  There the ashes were the thickest.  Blaize shook his head and turned to the task at hand.  After asking the Princess if she would be all right if he left her for a moment to retrieve some medicine, he hurried back to his mount.  Pulling some fresh bandages and salves from the saddlebags, he ran back down to Traven’s body.

After quickly treating the boy’s wounds, he gently picked him up and led the shaken Princess out of the cave.  He helped the Princess onto his horse’s back and slid Traven up in front of her.  After making sure that the Princess would not let the unconscious Traven fall, Blaize headed back down into the cave one last time to retrieve the golden chest.  When he got to it, he was amazed by the intricate patterns that had been worked into it.  Heaving it onto his good shoulder, he was surprised to find that it was not very heavy at all.  He then quickly rejoined the Princess and headed into the marsh towards the city with one hand on his steed’s reins and the other around the golden chest.

* * * * *

“Send for the High King immediately!” the watchman yelled as he gazed out from the border of the marsh.  “The Princess has been found!”  He watched amazed at the sight that met his eyes.  From the mists of the marsh, the haggard party had emerged moments before.  The watchman had instantly recognized the Princess slumped atop a mighty steed.  At her side strode the mighty General Blaize of the High King’s Royal Army with a golden chest over his shoulder.  In front of the Princess was a wounded and unconscious young man.  The watchman headed into the swamp excitedly to greet them as his companion rode hard toward the palace.  Their Princess had been brought back to them!

Epilogue

“You’ll never believe what I saw earlier this morning!” exclaimed one of the royal servants.  Another servant scrubbing clothes at her side turned her attention from the soapy water to her fellow servant.

“What?” she inquired excitedly, always ready to hear another rumor.

“The Princess showed up this morning all tattered and dirty.”  She paused as the other woman gasped.  “A general from the army was with her, along with the body of some young man.  Apparently the young man is still alive, but from what I saw I don’t think he’ll live until nightfall.”

“I wonder what caused it all,” the listener exclaimed.  “Where were they coming from?”

“I don’t know, but there are whispers that the Princess found the treasure of the marsh.  The general who arrived with the Princess had a golden chest full of treasure.  They say it is inscribed with ancient symbols, and they have sent for a philosopher to decipher them.”

“You don’t say!”

“Oh, I do!”

* * * * *

Sound slowly began to come back.  Birds could be heard singing their sweet melodies nearby.  Quiet footfalls moved about.  He was enveloped in something soft.  Traven slowly opened his eyes, squinting in the bright sunlight that streamed into the room through a large window.  He realized that he was covered by blankets in a bed more luxurious than he had ever imagined could exist.  He slowly pushed himself up to look at his surroundings.  He was alone except for a middle aged maidservant in light blue and gold livery.  The maid gave a start when she turned and found him staring back at her, and she stopped whatever it was that she was doing.  She curtsied quickly and hurried out of the room.

Breathing heavily, Traven fell back onto the enormous pillow upon which his head had been resting.  The effort of sitting up had exhausted him.  Where was he?  What had happened?  Why was he so weak?  He searched for the answers to these questions in his mind but couldn’t find an answer to any of them.  He could tell that his chest was sore.  Reaching up a hand, he found that his entire chest was bandaged tightly.  What had happened?  His confusion was soon forgotten as a sweet aroma wafted into the room.  His stomach rumbled with anticipation.  He was starving.  He had no idea when he had last eaten.  Soon the door to the room swung open once again to admit the maidservant who had been present when he had awoken.  In her arms she carried a platter covered with a large dome.  The maidservant walked over to Traven with a smile.

“I bet you are quite hungry, no?” she said politely with smooth words.  Traven nodded slowly in the affirmative with a grin.  He gathered his strength and pushed himself back up and into a sitting position.  The maidservant immediately adjusted his pillow so that he could rest back against it and save his strength.  She then laid the platter on his lap and pulled off the dome cover, revealing the source of the wonderful smells.  There were several fresh rolls, a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, and a cup of hot cider.  Traven eagerly dug into the meal as the amused maidservant watched.  With every bite, he could feel a little of his strength returning.  The food was delicious; the best he had ever tasted.  He was amazed however, when he began to feel full.  He had not thought the small meal would be enough to even begin to quell his hunger.  In the end, he left a small amount of soup and one of the rolls, because he could not eat anymore.

“Do not worry young master,” the maidservant said as she gathered up the platter and readjusted his pillow so that he could lie back down.  “I will be back in a couple of hours with more food.  You will be hungry by then.”

“I don’t think so,” Traven replied with one hand over his stomach.

“You will be hungry.  Trust me.  Your stomach is just small, because you have not eaten for over three days.  It will stretch back out.”  He stared after the maidservant as she left the room.  Three days!  He had been sleeping for three days!  He struggled to comprehend what had happened but for some reason couldn’t remember.  Frustrated, he closed his eyes.  At least wherever he was he was being treated like royalty.  Royalty?  The Princess!  Everything came back in a rush; the capture, an escape, battle, the Princess in danger, and then immense pain.  Traven slipped back into unconsciousness with the weight of the memory slamming back into him.

“Traven, Traven.”  He slowly began to regain consciousness once again at the sound of his name.  Opening his eyes, he found Blaize standing at the foot of his bed with a large grin on his face.  “You’ve slept enough.  You can’t sleep forever!”  Behind Blaize stood the maidservant with another platter of food.  She brushed past him and helped Traven sit up.  Traven was surprised to discover that in fact he was starving once again.  He eagerly ate another helping of the delicious vegetable soup and several more rolls.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Blaize between mouthfuls.

“I just happened to be around and decided to see how you were doing.”

“That is not true,” the maidservant said.  “He has been stopping by to check on you several times every day.”  Traven ate with amusement as Blaize playfully denied the maidservant’s allegations with mocked amazement.  Looking back down at the platter, he realized that it was already empty.  “I will bring you a larger dinner later,” the maidservant said as she carried away the empty platter.  “Do not tire him too much General.”  Blaize chuckled as the door closed behind her.

“I’m glad to see that you are finally awake.  How are you feeling?”

“My chest and leg are sore, but other than that I just feel weak,” Traven replied.

“You looked like you had taken quite a beating when I reached you in the cave,” Blaize said.  “In fact, at first I thought you were dead.  You came extremely close to dying Traven.  You are lucky to still be alive.”

“But what happened?” Traven asked.

“I was hoping that you could tell me,” Blaize replied.  “On our way out of the marsh, the Princess kept mumbling about a giant snake and then how it disappeared.  She said that when she turned around, she found you lying there almost dead.  At first I thought she was still a little delirious, but as I got more details out of her, I had to believe her.  I was hoping that you would be able to fill in the rest.”  Traven remembered the giant serpent; it hadn’t been a dream if the Princess had seen it too.  He tried as hard as he could to remember what had happened.  He had fought off their attackers at the entrance to the cave.  He had then heard the Princess screaming and had hurried to her rescue.  When he reached her, it was too late, and he was out of strength.  He remembered struggling for the power to save her and reaching out.  There his memory failed him.  Something horrific had happened, but he couldn’t remember what it was no matter how hard he tried.

“I think it had something to do with that stone you always wore around your neck,” Blaize said.  “You know it wasn’t the first time that I had treated burns on your chest.”  Traven reached his hand up to grab his stone and was startled to find it missing.

“Where is it?” Traven asked immediately looking around the room.

“It’s gone,” Blaize replied very seriously.  “It lay shattered in a thousand pieces across the cave floor when I found you.  I don’t know what happened or how it happened, but somehow the stone must have exploded.  Several shards were embedded in your chest, so it must have happened while you were still wearing it.  The stone is no more.  I think it’s for the best.”

Traven shook his head in disbelief.  How could it be true?  How was it possible for the stone to explode?  He knew that the stone had been a might stone.  Philosopher Studell had said that the stones were indestructible.  Traven had no idea what could have broken something that was unbreakable.  He wondered what it all meant.  At least now that the stone was gone he would no longer have to worry about it burning him.  He had never been able to bring himself to get rid of it, but now that it was gone, he felt a sort of relief.  He somehow felt liberated and more alive.

“I think it’s for the best too,” Traven finally said.

There was a quick knock at the door before it was flung open.  In came Philosopher Studell.  In his arms was a beautifully ornamented golden chest.  Behind the Philosopher, the Princess entered the room hand in hand with her soon to be husband.  She was the epitome of beauty.  She must have fared much better than he.  She didn’t appear to be injured or even tired.  Her beautiful smile graced her face.  Traven’s surroundings vanished as he stared back into her shining eyes.

“I am so glad to see that you have awakened Traven,” the Princess said.  “How do you feel?”

“I’m all right,” Traven replied.  “I’m glad to see that you’re once again safe my Princess.”

“I am safe on account of you,” the Princess said.  “I want to thank you for saving my life.  I do not know how you did it, but I know if it were not for you I would be dead.”  Traven felt his face flush at the praise from the Princess.

“We are in your debt,” Commander General Gavin added.  “The High King also sends his gratitude.  You are welcome here in the palace until you are fully recovered.  The High King also offers you several gifts to show his gratitude.  This golden chest is yours along with these.”  The Commander General clapped his hands, and a servant entered the room with a large bundle.  The bundle contained new boots, a new cloak, and several sets of the black clothes with silver embroidery that he so often had worn.  Traven was speechless.  The servant placed the new items of clothing in a large oak wardrobe where his sword and old boots lay.  “If you need anything else, clap for assistance.”  With one last special smile from the Princess, she and her suitor left.

“Not bad,” Blaize said after they left.  “You could sell that chest for a handsome sum of money.”

“You cannot sell this chest,” Philosopher Studell piped in.  “It is not just some chest.  It is a relic from the age of the wielders!”  Traven smiled at the Philosopher’s excitement.

“Where did it come from?” Traven asked.

“It was in the cave where General Blaize found you and the Princess.  It is covered in the old symbols.  I deciphered them.  They say that it contains a treasure only worthy of a wielder.  We cannot figure out how to get it open.”  Traven stared at the chest as the Philosopher began to mumble under his breath and crinkle his forehead, apparently deep in thought.

“Can I see it?” Traven asked interrupting Studell’s thoughts.

“Of course you can boy.  It is yours.  Yes it is yours.”

Traven stared at the ornate chest as the Philosopher set it down in front of him.  He could not believe that the High King had given it to him!  He placed his hands on the cool surface and tried to pull up the top.  It did not even budge.  As far as he could see there was no lock.  Blaize shrugged his shoulders.  Traven studied the chest harder looking for some type of latch hidden amongst the designs.  He saw none but suddenly a strange feeling came over him.  He could some how sense that the latch was on the inside.  He concentrated on the point where he felt the latch was.  Suddenly there was a loud click.

“What was that?” the Philosopher shouted.  “I heard something.  What did you do?”  Traven sat back in surprise as the Philosopher yanked the chest from his hands and threw back the lid.  Traven’s eyes widened with amazement.

“You did it!” Studell exclaimed as he began to rummage through the contents of the chest.  Blaize looked at Traven strangely before stepping over to the Philosopher’s side.  Traven was not sure what had happened but was eager to see what was in the chest.  The excitement, however, was tiring him out.

“What’s in it?” he asked.

“This is amazing,” the Philosopher said as he turned to Traven.  “You will not believe what is in here.”  The Philosopher then returned to staring inside the chest.  Blaize burst out laughing at the look on Traven’s face.  He grabbed the chest from the philosopher and emptied its contents on the bed for Traven to see.  Out tumbled two stones, pieces of jewelry, and an ancient scroll.  Traven stared at the stones as the Philosopher snatched up the scroll and began reading it.  One of the stones was green with yellow streaks that were actually moving back and forth across its face.  The second stone was a deep orange that was glowing faintly.  Traven was sure that they were might stones.

“It cannot be true,” the Philosopher suddenly screamed in glee.  “It cannot be true!  I cannot believe it.  Do you know what this is?” he said pointing to the opened scroll.

“What?” Traven asked excitedly.

“It is a map with instructions.  It leads to an ancient keep.  It states that whoever opens the chest must go there.”

“What?” Traven asked once again.  The Philosopher suddenly became very serious as he looked directly into Traven’s eyes.  He raised his finger and pointed at him.

“You must go to Faldor’s Keep!”

* * * * *

Traven watched the commotion in the Grand Square from the open window of his room in the palace.  The square was full of citizens waiting for the procession to begin.  He had been invited to go down to the front of the palace but had decided that he would have a better view from his room.  He was wearing one of his new sets of black clothes.  The material was even finer than the original outfit his grandparent’s had given him.  At his side hung his sword.  He almost felt like a noble staring out of the palace window.  It was a pity that he would be leaving the comforts of the palace soon.

The anxious crowd grew quiet, and Traven turned his attention to the procession that was beginning to leave the palace walls.  General Commander Gavin and the High Princess Kalista rode side by side at the head of the column right behind the High King.  He watched the Princess with sadness.  The next time their paths crossed, if they ever did, she would be married.  Behind them, royal guards and army officers followed.  Traven watched as the High King of Kalia pronounced a speech.  When he finished, the crowd erupted in cheers as the party continued out into the square.  He watched the procession as it headed toward the barracks.  Blaize would be waiting there with the rest of the army.  The soldiers would join the procession.  After the traditional ceremony the High King would return to the palace and the rest would begin their long march to Candus.

Blaize had stopped by the night before to say good bye to Traven and wish him luck.  It had been sad to part with the mighty warrior once again.  Traven felt that he should be waiting to march at the barracks with Blaize and the rest of the soldiers, but fate had chosen a different path for him.  He turned from watching the vanishing procession and looked to the north.  His journey would take him in a different direction than the departing party.  He suddenly felt a strange feeling as if someone were watching him.  He stepped back from the window but the feeling remained.  Traven didn’t understand how, but someone was still watching him.

* * * * *

Kadrak walked down the grand hall under the vaulted ceilings.  On the walls, the portraits of long dead empresses stared at their new ruler.  The city had fallen quickly.  At first the Empress had thought she could stop him.  When she discovered that her armies were powerless against his might, however, she had wisely subjected her kingdom to him.  The Empress of Balthus was now one of his servants.  Kadrak had spared the citizens of Rankdra and then moved into the palace.  There had been minor uprisings, but his army put them down quickly.  The soldiers of Balthus who remained alive were now loyal to him.  The capitol of Balthus was now firmly his.  Kalia was next.

Turning down a side hall, Kadrak walked over to the door that led to the wine cellar.  As he started down the steps, a flame appeared in front of him lighting the way.  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he continued to the back of the cellar where a silver dish held water.  Letting the flame disappear, Kadrak concentrated on the screeing dish.  He needed to know if Wraith was still in Calyn.  Amazingly nothing happened.  He grumbled under his breath when no image appeared.  Wraith must have been killed somehow.  Growling, he pulled up an image of Kalia and was amazed to find that there was no longer any fog.

Concentrating, he focused on a pin prick of light in Calyn.  As Calyn grew larger, so did the point of light.  At last its source could be seen.  Kadrak’s eyes narrowed with anger.  A young man, dressed all in black, stood uncomfortably in a small room in the royal palace.  Around him blazed the glory of the ambience!

Look for Wielder’s Rising, the second book in the Wielder Trilogy.

Coming February 2012

About the Author

T.B. Christensen is an accountant and a dreamer in his late 20’s.  He has a wonderful wife and two darling children.  He grew up in the hot desert and now lives in the cold mountains.  You can learn more about T.B. Christensen and his current and future books by visiting his blog at http://www.tbchristensen.blogspot.com/.