by Jason Tesar
Ukiru’s spoke softly. “Fire when ready.”
Almost immediately, Kael felt seven arrows fly at their targets, all striking their mark, some more accurately than others. The eighth arrow was loosed only a second later by Rainer, who missed his target. The other students scrambled to restring the second in a series of three arrows. Soren and Kael held back, waiting for a break in the wind.
“You first,” Soren whispered when the breeze died down.
Kael opened his eyes and saw his target. Even at its great distance, Kael could feel it as if he were asked to reach up and touch his own nose. He aimed for the fist-sized red circle painted in the middle and loosed his arrow. It flew quickly to its target, followed by Soren’s. Both arrows struck inside of the circle. Immediately, Kael plucked another arrow from the quiver at his right leg and set it to the bowstring. In one motion he raised the bow and pulled the arrow back, resting his hand just below his cheekbone. The rest of the students and their attempts had disappeared now, and the only thing in Kael’s mind was his own target. He aimed and released his second arrow just as a gust of wind blew. The arrow struck the target only inches to the left of the red circle, blown off course by the wind. He grabbed his third and final arrow and aimed while the wind continued to blow. Closing his eyes, he could immediately feel the path that the arrow should take. He didn’t stop to question it, but aimed almost a foot to the right of the target and several inches higher than the last shot. He released his last arrow and quickly opened his eyes, watching the projectile arc through the air, fighting the wind. It struck the target with a loud crack.
“What was that?” Horace yelled.
Kael couldn’t see his third arrow and began to question whether or not he had missed completely.
“Let’s go see,” Ukiru suggested, and everyone ran out to the targets to see the results.
As Kael got closer, it became clear what had happened. His third arrow struck the center of the red target and split his first arrow in two pieces. The split pieces of the first arrow were still lodged in the target so that they looked like one arrow. Kael looked to the left, and Soren was staring at him.
“You know … you’re making us all look bad,” he said with a smile.
Kael smiled in return just before noticing that Soren’s target had all three arrows inside the red circle. “Not with a pattern like that,” he countered.
Kael felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Ukiru behind him. “Good shooting, you two,” he said in a quiet voice so as not to make a scene. “Kael, what happened is very interesting, but you must work on your consistency.”
Kael nodded, his joyous feelings immediately deflated.
“Soren, excellent job,” he congratulated the young man. He searched for something more to say, but there was nothing for him to critique. Instead, he patted his pupil on the back and turned to address the rest of the students.
“Are you pleased with your results?” he shouted to be heard over the sound of the waving grass. A few mumbled words were the only replies he received. He waved for everyone to follow him back to their starting positions and addressed them on the way. “It is easy enough to reach a high level of proficiency with bow and arrow when shooting once. It is quite another matter to be consistently accurate when shooting multiple times in a row. In a war setting, archers must shoot one arrow after another, and it is not enough to simply let one fly. Each arrow must count as if it were your last.”
When each student reached his starting position, Ukiru pointed at the targets in the field. “The target in front of you is your enemy. He is charging at you and you have no other weapons but your bow. Visualize the small red circle on his chest and fire three more arrows. Don’t try to hurry. Don’t panic. Simply pull an arrow from your quiver, set it to the string, pull back, aim, and release. Do this three times until your enemy is defeated.” Ukiru raised his hand and each student readied himself.
Kael was already visualizing the target in his own way. When Ukiru’s hand dropped, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and began the fluid process of firing once, twice, and three times. When he released his last arrow to join the other two inside of the red circle, he looked around and noticed that he had finished before all of the others, except for Soren, who was enjoying the competition.
~
The next day, Kael found himself waiting on a bench in a hallway. He was staring at the floor when the door opened. He rose to his feet and walked into a room where Ukiru and three other monks were standing around a table. As he approached them, he could see a large map spread out on the table, covered with small wooden statues. It was an elaborate game that Ukiru had devised to teach his students the principles of warfare strategy.
“One day has elapsed. Your scout has just returned to inform you that the enemy has breached the northern wall of the city.” Ukiru leaned over the table and pointed to a black statue on the map to indicate the new information.
Kael looked over the pale statues representing his own forces, most of which were still far to the east. The objective of this game was to take the abandoned city in the center of the map and use the advantage it offered to defeat the opposing forces. It looked like he was going to have to take the role of the attacking army in this game. Somehow Soren, who was waiting outside another door, had managed to move his army to the northern wall fast enough to take the city while most of Kael’s forces were waiting for the foot soldiers to catch up. He had already put himself at a disadvantage by his lack of aggression.
“Pull the army back from the wall and set up a camp until the other soldiers arrive.” I’m already committed to a siege. I might as well wait until the full force of my army is ready.
“Very well,” Ukiru nodded his head. “Please wait in the hall.”
Kael walked out to the hallway and resumed his position on the bench. After a few minutes, he was summoned back into the room. The map looked very different from when he had seen it last.
“Half of the enemy’s army has taken up residence in the city and is guarding the walls with archers. The other half has come out of the eastern gate and is attacking your unguarded camp.” Ukiru’s face was unreadable, but he was certainly disappointed.
Kael looked to his foot soldiers in the east and saw that they were now close enough to attack. “The archers will retreat from the camp and the foot soldiers will attack.” Once again, Ukiru nodded, and Kael left the room to give Soren his turn at the map.
Long moments passed before Kael was let into the room. When he came back and looked at the map, he saw that Soren’s forces were now all inside of the city. “What is the status of my army?” he asked immediately.
Ukiru pointed to the map. “Your foot soldiers pushed the enemy back into the city, destroying a quarter of his forces. But most of your archers were destroyed in the process.”
Kael shook his head and tried to think of some way to take a defended city with only a few archers and the rest of his army. This game required an active imagination to understand how each stage might progress. Kael thought that the northern gate must have suffered some damage when Soren’s forces broke through. “All of my forces will move to the northern gate. The archers will provide cover for the foot soldiers to attack the gate.” Kael turned and left the room before he had the chance to see Ukiru’s expression. It didn’t matter anyway; Ukiru hadn’t shown one bit of emotion since this game had started. He was obviously doing his best not to show favoritism.
As Kael waited in the hallway, he became aware that Soren was taking longer and longer on each turn. He must be choosing his actions very carefully. He had always been the best at this sort of competition. He had a way with people and knowing what they were capable of. Kael, on the other hand, had long since lost the patience for this sort of game. There was so much speculation involved that it became difficult to make decisions. Kael preferred to confront an enemy face to face, study his actions, and react. That is why he enjoyed the physical combat training the best. The princip
les and actions were all real and substantial.
“Come in, please,” one of the monks said, peering around the door.
Kael rose to his feet and entered the room where Ukiru and Soren stood by the table.
“This exercise,” Ukiru said, “has reached a point where the smallest of decisions will affect the outcome. Now that your two forces are within close range, you will be able to see everything that your enemy is doing; therefore, you are both allowed in the room at the same time.” Ukiru waved Kael over to the table to update him. “The rest of your archers were killed in the attack. They could not compete with the range of the archers on the wall. However, they provided enough cover for your foot soldiers to breach the gate. You lost one quarter of your foot soldiers taking the gate, but you still have half of your original forces.”
Kael surveyed the map and noted the location of Soren’s forces. “How has my enemy reacted?”
Soren looked up from the map and winked at Kael, who smiled in return.
Ukiru answered. “After breaking down the gate, your soldiers have found themselves in a narrow corridor leading into the courtyard of the city. Your enemy has massed his foot soldiers in the courtyard to meet your attack and has placed his archers on top of the corridor to fire arrows down on your soldiers. You have already lost several men in the initial surprise.”
Kael looked up at Soren, who was now expressionless. “The soldiers in the rear will lift their shields over their heads to defend against the volley of arrows.” Kael tried to imagine actually being in that situation. “The entire unit will drive the enemy back into the courtyard and get out of the narrow corridor.”
Ukiru looked to Soren for his instructions. Soren looked straight at Kael. “My foot soldiers will push back to keep his forces inside the corridor. And my archers will continue to shoot.” Ukiru looked back to Kael for his response.
“What is the status of both armies?” Kael asked.
“Both forces are dwindling, but the archers have given your enemy the advantage,” Ukiru responded, still waiting for Kael’s decision.
Kael knew that it was just a matter of time before he was defeated. It was strictly a numbers game now. His soldiers were evenly matched against Soren’s, but the archers were bound to take out a few of his men, even with their shields above their heads. “My forces will retreat out of the northern gate.”
Ukiru looked to Soren for a nod of confirmation before picking up the pale statue from the courtyard and placing it back in the corridor. He then reached for a black statue and placed it outside of the gate. “The other half of your enemy’s force exited the western gate and has come behind you. Your men are now trapped in the corridor by a force in the courtyard, another outside of the gate, and archers above you. Your men are defeated.”
Kael immediately looked up from the map and extended a hand to Soren. “Well done.”
Soren grasped Kael’s hand and shook it. “Thank you,” he said with a smile.
Ukiru turned to Soren and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “You are the winner of this competition. Congratulations.”
Soren only nodded in response.
“Now, you must finish packing. Tomorrow we begin our pilgrimage. We must be ready to leave at first light.”
The two young men walked out of the room together and Soren put his arm around Kael. “You put up a good fight.”
“No, I didn’t,” Kael argued. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Yeah. You’re right. You didn’t stand a chance,” Soren said, patting Kael on the back. “Come on. I’ve got to hurry. I haven’t even started packing yet,” Soren said, running ahead.
“We were supposed to start a week ago,” Kael yelled, but Soren had already rounded the corner and was out of earshot.
* * * *
The light from the setting sun filtered through the trees, leaving the ground in the garden dappled with alternating yellow light and purple shadows. Maeryn sat on a rock ledge surrounding an island of flowers, carefully pruning them by snapping off the dead parts of each plant. The soft humming of a melody drifted to her ears from across the garden, and it brought a smile to her face. Aelia liked to sing, and it warmed Maeryn’s heart to have the child in her presence.
It seemed like such a long time ago that Maeryn was surrounded by very different circumstances. She used to watch while Kael and Ajani would play in the courtyard. Saba would always be nearby, ready to give an explanation to the boys about how something worked. Eventually, when the sun went down, Adair would come home and everyone would sit down to a meal together.
Even in her current circumstances, she realized she was more fortunate than most, but somehow that didn’t make her feel any better. It was peaceful in the garden, among the trees and flowers. Regardless of the things going on around them, plants and trees kept growing. Kept going through their seasons. They would shed leaves or change colors depending on the species, but eventually, all would bloom again.
What will my life look like when it blooms again?
“Mistress?” came a voice behind her. Maeryn was so deep in thought that she had not heard the footsteps in the coarse sand.
“Yes?” she replied, turning to see Zula standing patiently behind her.
The woman extended a piece of parchment to Maeryn.
“Thank you, Zula.”
“Yes, mistress,” she replied with a nod and quickly walked away.
She is a strange woman to figure out. One moment she would speak with such passion, disregarding every manner expected of a servant. Then the next moment she would be polite and follow all of the rules to perfection. Maeryn thought that it must be difficult for such a passionate woman to keep quiet. And it seemed to be getting more difficult for her. Indeed, Maeryn herself was finding it more difficult lately to be in the presence of Lemus and not say all of the things she wished to. She only hoped that Zula would not make a mistake in front of that man, for her own sake.
Maeryn turned the letter over in her hands and the sight of the wax seal made her heart race. She immediately glanced around to make sure that no one was watching her. The slight movement of Aelia at the other end of the garden was the only presence she could see.
Maeryn broke the seal on the letter and unfolded the parchment.
I know not the final destination of this letter. Nor do I know to whom it is sent. What I do know is that the one who reads it has proven himself time and again to be a true ally. For that I must extend my appreciation as well as the offer of my aid in any circumstance where I may be of assistance to you. As I do not know your identity, I will trust that if you ever need anything that is in my power to give, simply communicate it to me and it will be done. As a gesture of my trust in you, I wish to give you information as well. Please forgive the generalities, as I do not wish to endanger anyone with specifics. Indeed, this letter is already incriminating, and I hope you will follow my advice and burn it as soon as you are able. In the past, Bastul has not been a major focus of our efforts throughout the Empire. Therefore, it has gone overlooked for some time. Lately, certain events have brought Bastul to the forefront of our attention, due in large part to your own contributions. However, we do not have enough allies in your city to make any difference. Therefore, I must ask a favor of you, if you wish to continue this relationship, but it will require much patience. The Empire has been built upon the backs of slaves who reap none of the benefits of its citizens, but who must labor every day for its welfare. The city of Bastul has one of the largest slave populations in the Empire, and I believe that these people are the key to developing a large base of sympathizers to our cause within your city. My request is that you take note of every slave within Bastul and find out if there are any who would not want the chance to change their way of life. From the information we have received from you in the past, I feel confident that you are the man for this task. My hope is that you are willing to take this next step and become an active part of our cause. However, if you
do not wish this relationship to continue, do not reply and you will not be contacted again.
Maeryn quickly folded the parchment into its original form and looked around again to make sure that no one was watching. Her heart was still beating loudly in her chest, in stark contrast to the silence in the garden. Aelia had only moved a few feet from her last position and was now staring in awe at the butterfly on her arm, flexing its wings.
Maeryn looked back at the letter, afraid to open it again. Somehow it seemed more dangerous if she were to reread it, as if the first time had been an accident. Many thoughts raced through her mind, crashing into one another and making it difficult to think clearly. She raised her hand to her eyes and massaged them until her mind cleared. The words of the letter shocked her in many ways. She had no idea the Resistance was so elaborate and involved so many cities. It made perfect sense that a movement such as this would not be limited to Bastul, but for some reason she hadn’t considered the vastness of it and the consequences of involving herself in such a cause. When she first wrote a letter and gave it to Zula, it was as a result of her own personal struggle with Lemus and a desire to see him fail. She didn’t realize what she was getting herself into. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.
Who else is capable of doing this task? Who else has my position and is not fiercely loyal to the Empire? What about the attack on the shipment in the harbor? If Bastul really has been ‘overlooked,’ what kind of power do they have in other cities?
She would need to think more on this matter before deciding, but something inside her already knew the answer.
“Aelia?” she called out.
“Yes, Mother,” came the reply from behind a flowering bush, followed by the appearance of a sweet little face.
“Let’s go inside, the sun is almost down.”
CHAPTER 22
Tears flowed down Saba’s face. He had no images to recall, only the feeling of a deep and immense sense of loss. Someone had died in his past. Someone he loved deeply. In the recent months since this memory—if it could be called such—there were several occasions when the feeling would overwhelm him and he would cry until his body fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. He would wake, only to find that the feeling had not gone away, but had only lessened in intensity. Eventually, he would heal and begin to feel normal for a while until it happened again, unexpectedly. As far back as his time in Bastul, Saba had wished that he could remember what was in his past. But on these occasions, he knew that the pain was too great for him to experience, and that it was a blessing to have no memory of it. He wondered now if there were other painful things in his past, things from which he was being protected by his own forgetfulness.
