Once everybody had finally been healed, they had sat with the king until the early hours of the morning. They had talked about the events of the evening and considered the consequences of the attack. After the first shock, the king had been bizarrely overjoyed by the results of the attempted assassination.
‘You were able to save the lives of all the nobles – bar two – and I hope that the Illuminated Path made the mistake of gathering its most fanatical supporters for this attack in the capital. We’ll have to comb the countryside to track down the last few fanatics, but I am quite confident, because I can hardly imagine that there is anybody left who can really damage us or who even wants to. The cult has lost its support. Thanks to Jelninolan’s healing arts, half of the nobility of Knights Marshes are still alive, and are bound to the elves in gratitude. It may sound cynical and cold-hearted, but yesterday was a wake-up call for the Knights Marshes and I will do everything in my power over the next two winters to unite all the barons, even the most stubborn, under my banner.’
Uldini agreed. He seemed to be just as happy as the king, if exhausted by the excess of magic.
‘The followers of the Illuminated Path seemed to get their orders purely and simply from Brother Wultom. Once he was unmasked, they were leaderless and they made one last attempt to plunge the Knight Marshes into chaos’, said the wizard. ‘Although I have to concede that the attempt to steal Tanentan was a stroke of genius. I have the uneasy feeling that there might be one mastermind who used the onslaught of the cultists as a distraction, so that Ahren’s Naming could be prevented by the theft of the lute. It sounds suspiciously like a Doppelganger. As soon as Elgin has recovered, I’ll have him look into it.’
King Blueground had been deeply grateful for all their help, but surprised that they still wanted to leave immediately in spite of the previous night’s exertions.
‘Our time is slowly running out’, Uldini had submitted, ‘even if it was good that we were here and able to thwart the Adversary’s plans. You know what’s at stake if the Naming takes place too late. I think we’ve done well with our few days’ work. An old fox like yourself should have no problem finishing off the job. And you have Elgin at your side again, who can help you with his advice.’
And so they had said their goodbyes at the crack of dawn and had headed for the harbour where The Queen of the Waves, seaworthy and laden with provisions, awaited her passengers.
Ahren held on tightly to the railing as the ship was unmoored and the crew set sail in the gentle harbour waves. The wind caught the sails, and the enormous rectangles veered and fluttered as the wind pushed the ship out of the harbour.
The wide ocean opened up before the awed apprentice as they left the horse-shoe shaped harbour, and the seemingly endless vast of water took the young man’s breath away. As a Forest Guardian, he was accustomed to long distances. He had covered leagues and leagues of forest in the past with his master. But the sight of the broad expanse of sea made Ahren realise how enormous the world really was, and how insignificant he was in comparison.
Uldini joined him and looked thoughtfully at the surface of the water.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve gone to sea many a time, but the view always takes my breath away.’
There was a deep longing and warmth in the ancient wizard’s voice and his words shook Ahren out of his paralysis. He loosened his grip on the railing and looked at the childish figure with interest. Uldini grinned wickedly.
‘Surprised? I like to imagine that I would have become a sailor if magic hadn’t flowed through my veins.’ Uldini sighed. ‘But that’s only a romantic notion on my part. If I hadn’t become a wizard, I would have led a short, hard life as a slave and would in all probability have suffered a painful death.’ He sighed again and then smiled faintly. ‘If you look it like that, I did alright, don’t you think?’
Before Ahren could answer, the little figure floated away and disappeared into his cabin. The apprentice stared after him, dumbfounded, and started when he heard a voice behind him.
‘Ignore that old curmudgeon’, said Falk in a reassuring voice. He had come up behind the apprentice unawares. ‘He always gets a little maudlin when we’re at sea, and the effects of all that healing make his feelings of melancholy even stronger. Give him a few days and he’ll be back to his old, complaining, cynical self’.
Ahren turned around to the old man and noticed that at least three sailors were within hearing distance or were just hurrying past. Freedom of moment was significantly curtailed on a ship and this was something he wasn’t used to. It would take him a while before he internalised the knowledge that behind every corner there would be two or three people working away, and therefore able to listen in on conversations.
He heard a strange noise above him, and when he looked up, he saw a sailor who was climbing up the ship’s rigging with effortless ease. Ahren instinctively gasped and felt fascinated and imprisoned by the ship’s boundaries.
His master had spotted his worried look and he gestured to Ahren to follow him.
‘I too am no friend of these narrow confines. We are Forest Guardians but there are no trees to be seen far and wide, and we can’t go running either.’ Falk closed his eyes. ‘And anyway, I miss Selsena’, he added quietly.
The Titejunanwa had not come on board but would be waiting for them in Kelkor. Ahren understood only too well that a ship was no place for Selsena, and she would be like a fish out of water in the caves of the Silver Cliff. And so Falk had said goodbye to her with a heavy heart and they had agreed on a meeting place inland from the Silver Cliff. The Elvin warhorse would doubtless make much quicker progress without their company and would probably be waiting for them once they had helped the dwarf on his Lonely Watch.
Now that King’s Island was behind them, Ahren could concentrate fully on the next part of their journey.
‘Master, you told us that time that you knew the dwarf we are going to help from before. How exactly did you get to know him?’ he asked curiously.
Falk rubbed his beard and looked out onto the water as he led his apprentice onto the quarterdeck. It was quieter there and you could see what was around you more easily, which enabled the young man to relax a little.
‘One of my favourite places on board ship’, explained Falk. Then he returned to Ahren’s question. ‘Telling the story of a dwarf is something very personal to the little folk, and without his permission I can only tell you this: in my wild days we were both in the same troop of mercenaries for a while, and we saved each other’s lives a few times. In those days he was a young buck and still had his child name, and his beard didn’t even reach his voice box.’ Falk chuckled as he remembered.
‘What’s a child name?’ asked Ahren bewildered.
‘If you’re a dwarf, you have to earn your name. With every Lonely Watch you gain a syllable for it, with more difficult Lonely Watches you can gain two or even three at once. The dwarf is called by his child name until he has his first Watch behind him. They’re usually nicknames like “Little Pebble”, “Rock Crumb” or “Sliver Stone”. So it’s understandable that every young dwarf wants to get rid of it as quickly as possible. Many dwarves pick a Life Name as soon as possible. In other words, they plan what they are going to be called later and then work tirelessly towards their goal. It takes most dwarves over two hundred years to gather together their Life Name. And only then are they permitted to get married, and not even all of them. The length of their names determines the families they can marry into. They are an incredibly stubborn bunch, and that’s reflected in all their traditions and customs’, he said approvingly.
‘You seem to like them’, said Ahren in surprise. What he’d heard up to this point sounded cold, severe and distant, and he was surprised that his master liked such a harsh culture. Even in his worst days, Falk’s behaviour had never been as hard as the dwarves’ way of life was, if he believed his master’s description.
Falk simply shrugged his shoulders.
�
�They just aren’t like us. Just as the elves aren’t like us. You have to understand their strengths and weaknesses, their peculiarities in order to value their culture. HE, WHO IS gave them an over-abundance of essence. And so, they’re quite inflexible when it comes to form and feeling. There’s an old proverb: “a human becomes what he is, an elf feels what he is, but a dwarf just is”. The little folk have many qualities which makes dealing with them difficult. They’re loud, blinkered, stubborn and often incapable of compromise. Even hard facts just bounce off their thick skulls, and they are very slow to pardon someone who offends them. I know of no case where a dwarf has ever changed sides or left his post. Treachery and falseness are alien to them, and their hospitality towards strangers is legendary. And as we are on the subject: if you have won over a dwarf as a friend, then this bond will last a lifetime. Their loyalty is limitless, as is their fury if you go behind their backs. If I weren’t attached to Selsena, I probably would have sought my peace among the dwarves.’
Falk finished his monologue, and Ahren spent a little time digesting what he had just heard. He was now more curious about these complicated folk, and he noticed that he was now really looking forward to their arrival at the Silver Cliff. The apprentice tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn, but his lack of sleep had caught up with him. And yet, before retiring to his cabin he wanted to learn one more thing from his master.
‘What kind of an exclamation did you utter in the hall yesterday? You know, the one you’d used against the Blood Wolf. ‘ His voice was shaking with curiosity, and he looked eagerly at the old man.
Falk was silent for a while, and Ahren feared that he would get no answer at all. But finally the Forest Guardian spoke.
‘That was the war cry of the Paladins. It means something like, ‘gods, see your Paladins!’ We always shouted that before setting ourselves difficult tasks. Many of us had hoped that it would arouse the attention of the sleeping THREE, so their blessing would stir us on to victory. Personally, I think the cry just gives us courage and reminds us of our task. And in the meantime, it has been uttered so often in so many important battles that it has developed a life of its own. Dark Ones react aggressively to it, for they hear it is a challenge. And in the Knight Marshes and other kingdoms of the free peoples it has huge symbolic power, as you saw yesterday.’
Ahren nodded, grateful for the explanation, and suppressed another yawn.
‘That’s enough for now. Your head is tired, and if I try filling it with more things, you will forget it all again anyway. Go and have a rest, and this afternoon we’ll see what happens’, ordered Falk good-naturedly.
Ahren couldn’t and wouldn’t contradict him. He went into one of the small, wooden cabins that had been pointed out to him by one of the sailors. Then he hung his bundle on a hook in the wall. A strong hammock dominated the small three-by-three paced room which was lit by a tiny light that swung squeakily from side to side in the middle of the ceiling. There was a small dresser with a metal washbowl, fixed to the wall with nails. The rest of the cabin was bare. Ahren took no notice of anything as he rolled himself together on the hammock and promptly fell asleep.
Had he known what would be awaiting him when he woke up, Ahren would have stayed sleeping for as long as possible. The tired apprentice stumbled his way on deck, having been driven out of his hammock by the call of nature. He had just relieved himself over the railings when he noticed Falk and Jelninolan on the quarterdeck, seemingly in conversation with Khara. Full of curiosity, he strolled over to them, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
‘Oh, you’re awake. Good. The three of us have just been discussing your further training’, said Falk merrily. There was a mischievous gleam in his eye and Ahren suddenly had a bad feeling in his stomach.
‘You…three? What further training? There’s no forest around here’, he said, confused, and realised immediately that Falk had been waiting for such a response.
The old Forest Guardian rubbed his hands together and looked firmly into Ahren’s eyes.
‘Good, we’re agreed on that. Seeing as I can’t teach you anything in the forest, and that running longer lengths is somewhat difficult on deck, we’ve been thinking about what other things we can work on. Khara is going to take over your training in sword fighting, and Jelninolan will teach both of you in the areas of balance, footwork and equilibrium. The ship is perfect for this. I’ll take over the aspects of strength and endurance. I’ve a few ideas concerning the ropes and rigging on the ship’.
Ahren swallowed hard and considered raising an objection. But the wary look on Falk’s face suggested that might not be the best idea. He gave an acquiescent nod, which sealed his fate for the next few days.
Ahren cursed silently to himself as he punched the railing repeatedly with both fists. He had expected that being trained by Khara in swordplay would be difficult, and the first few lessons had already ended in loud arguments. It wasn’t just the fact that because of her limited command of the language she roared out all her commands in a staccato voice, but her face also betrayed her deep contempt for his abilities. It took Ahren all his self-control not to lose his temper.
But what really took the biscuit was her habit of giving him a slap on the face any time he made a mistake. His cheeks were burning in no time at all, and finally he had exploded. He had shouted at her long and loud and he certainly hadn’t minced his words. When it came to insults, his vocabulary had blossomed thanks to Uldini’s propensity to curse, and Ahren was certainly imaginative when it came to confronting Khara. Unfortunately, most of what he said was like water off a duck’s back. Jelninolan, understandably enough, had not introduced bad language during her language lessons with Khara.
And so the girl had stood there, her face impassive and without showing any reaction to his tirade, until she recognised some unmistakable words that the furious apprentice was spitting out. At which point her face had hardened and she put her sword away.
‘Lesson over’, was all she said. Then she disappeared into Jelninolan’s cabin, leaving a speechless Ahren, full of rage that he could no longer give vent to.
Now he was punching away at the railing in hopeless anger, shouting himself hoarse and swearing that he would never again go rushing to the aid of a strange girl in a darkened alleyway.
‘What an interesting choice of words’, he heard a voice say coolly behind him.
Ahren spun around and saw Jelninolan’s face, which had disappointment written all over it.
‘Is there any particular reason why the chosen aspirant for the title of Thirteenth Paladin has turned into a combination of a three-year-old and a drunken brawler?’ she asked sarcastically.
Ahren’s face went as red as a beetroot with embarrassment. The elf’s aura was always very intense, but when the priestess scolded someone, you felt as if a thousand ants were crawling around under your skin.
‘Khara doesn’t explain anything and she hits me when I don’t do what she expects’, blurted out the young man. ‘How am I supposed to learn anything if she doesn’t speak to me?’
He folded his arms and tried hard not to appear belligerent. After all, his arguments were pretty solid.
The elf priestess, however, seemed unimpressed. She looked at Ahren critically and tapped a finger on her thigh with exasperation.
‘Khara has just come to me and said that she is turning you down as a student. And that, after not even one full morning. She says you’re inattentive, answer back and have no discipline.’
Jelninolan threw her arms up in frustration and then continued.
‘The girl has had years of training with Windblade, and that was from a real Master of Blades. Her training methods may well be unusual but remember where and how Khara grew up. What you would call a hit is for her a polite request to pay attention. You saw her scars. Her definition of punishment and pain is in a completely different dimension to yours.
Ahren tried hard to stay calm and to rationally think over what the priestess had said but
as soon as he imagined the look of contempt on the girl’s face, he became furious again. However, one look at Jelninolan’s narrow eyes nipped any attempt at protest in the bud.
‘I will have a word with her so that she continues training you and I will also suggest that she not hit you if possible. And you will behave towards her in an unbiased, polite and respectful way. If I come to the conclusion that you are being deliberately difficult because you don’t want to be taught by a girl, then I will introduce some Elvin principles of apprentice discipline that not even Falk knows about.’
The elf’s voice was now icy cold and Ahren concluded with a shiver that a few slaps on the face weren’t the end of the world. He would just have to try harder and make as few mistakes as possible so Khara would have no reason to assault him.
The rest of the training ran remarkably painlessly. Ahren watched Khara’s movements very carefully and realised that, unlike Falk, she instructed more by demonstrating than by words. By the time the midday sun was burning down on him, he was sweating alright, but had only received three slaps across the face, and they hadn’t even been too hard.
Finally, she put Windblade away, and Ahren did the same. He went to the railing and felt the air blow through his hair for a moment before Jelninolan came onto the quarterdeck. She began practising the most varied movements with the two young people, cleverly incorporating the ship’s pitching and rolling into the exercises, which really tested her students. By the afternoon Ahren had lost any feeling in large parts of his body, but then Falk came along whistling, and began shunting him around the ship and up and down the rigging in a most creative manner. And, although Khara hadn’t been ordered to, she performed all the Forest Guardian’s exercises too, in spite of the fact that she was surely as exhausted as Ahren. She watched every one of Ahren’s movements carefully and imitated them quickly and confidently, and although she lacked experience in the precise implementation of climbing techniques, she learned remarkably quickly.
The Naming Page 21
