First Quest: The Mentalists series Book One

by E. Molloy

  Leroy slapped him on the back in a show of camaraderie that Daveth hadn’t experienced since he’d left Haven. “That’s the spirit! You show ‘em, for the little guys,” he said, half joking and half serious. His words didn’t seem to hold any contempt or cruelty to them, and only boosted the new-blood’s confidence.

  Daveth could see the Order Headquarters in the distance. Though the Knights had Orders placed all around the world and in almost every country, Navarr held the densest concentration of Knight activity. This was in part because it was home to their Headquarters, which sat just above the country-border into Gaedal.

  The other reason for their high population in the country was because of the King. Though the Knights out-ranked every military force in the world, the King of each territory was still their ruler while on his land. In most countries, magic had been outlawed and there had been centuries of wars ensuring that it no longer existed, or that all mages were banished to Kaine. In more recent years, the world in general had become more accepting, but each territory had their own rules on the subject. While Kaine served has a safe-haven for most magic-users (and the only country where the Knights had no operations), most other countries still brought out their torches at the first sign of magic.

  In Navarr, however, those with magic were seen as a commodity. Though frowned upon in some circles, people were allowed to “own” magic users. Similar to how others kept pets, people were allowed to keep mages for whatever purposes they wished. Those people would be held responsible for the actions of the magic user, and were expected to keep them in check. For the most part, they were seen much like trophies, though slavery was also a common lifestyle.

  Because of the expected presence of magic in the country, the Knights’ presence was also stronger. With their largest company within the borders of Navarr, they were more readily able to deal with magic-related threats. As an added bonus, people were dissuaded from breaking laws or causing trouble at all, since they knew the force that could come for them should they stray.

  History had taught the world that wherever magic was, conflict was bound to follow. With the Elves assumed extinct after having not been sighted in centuries, the only thing left to attest to their once all-powerful existence were the few humans that were still born with magic. The war between humanity and those born with magic was many centuries after the wars against the Elves. Without a powerful enemy like the Elves to fight against, humanity’s use for magic had long-since met its end. History had shown time and time again that all wars were started because of magic, so the less there was of it the safer the world would be.

  In the decades that the Knights had occupied the lands, they had managed to clean most of the plains of magical creatures, as well. Many of the monsters, fae, and other creatures that once called these lands home had faded into myth with their extinction, while others were rumored to have fled to the forest in the North. As dangerous as the aptly-titled Dark Forest was, citizens rarely travelled through it, so the Knights saw no reason to put force behind exterminating what few beasts had hidden there.

  The Order Headquarters in Navarr was an old Haven Chapel that had once housed only a few Knights. Over the years, the Knights had grown to outnumber the worshippers, and the previous residents had moved on to more holy grounds. This left the large stone Chapel free for the Order to move in and officially claim their stake. A monstrous ashlar wall was built around the building, with plenty of room between it and the Cathedral for training grounds that could support nearly a hundred Knights at once.

  Daveth had watched with anticipation as the wall grew nearer, each step closer seeming to take longer than the last. He had waited his whole life to walk through those gates and, as the giant iron portcullis was lifted, he had all but forgotten that Leroy was still talking to him.

  As the Knights filed to enter, dozens of them trotting through the stone archway on their noble horses, Sir Henry fell back. He snapped his fingers at Leroy, who hurried on ahead, dodging nimbly past the marching steeds and disappearing into the fortress. The armored man looked down to Daveth to be sure that he had his attention before instructing him.

  “Once inside the fortress wall, you will be met by Father Aaron. He has already been informed that you are joining us, and has prepared a necessary tour and explanation of what will be expected of you in your time here.”

  “Father,” Daveth echoed, reflecting on the word. “I didn’t realize you still housed Faithful here.”

  Sir Henry chortled, “Housed is not the term I would use. His presence is necessary, as is his knowledge. Don’t misunderstand, though. The Father is a Knight, just like any other, and is to be recognized as a commanding officer.”

  “He fights?” Daveth asked, a bit confused. Having grown up in a Haven, it was common knowledge that the Faithful were non-violent. That was why Havens all over the world housed Knights, as a mutually beneficial arrangement. While the Faithful tended to their daily duties of worship and charity, the Order ensured that no harm befell the people of their chapels and towns.

  Henry seemed to understand Daveth’s confusion, since he paused at the question. “It’s not my place to uphold the rules of the Creator, only to ensure the safety of his children.” His words sounded rehearsed, and Daveth found himself as unsettled as he had been outside of the arena. The Knights, he was starting to realize, were not the pictures that were painted of them. He could only hope that the Father was at least a brighter light than the rest.

  Daveth nodded dutifully, “I’ll seek him out, then.”

  Sir Henry didn’t offer any response as he fell behind the new recruit, following him through the archway. The outer ward was massive, and beyond the first wall Daveth could already see another before them. The wall-walk of the first wall held handfuls of guards, none of them donning the token white armor of the Knights. This was to be expected, as they were likely not part of the Order. What were mainly lookouts and archers could not possibly be qualified for the kind of work that the Knights undertook, and were really only there to sound alarms and hold off any attacks long enough for the cavalry to take their places.

  Within that first ward were soldiers of many kinds, as well as a few small housing structures. These soldiers would probably never see the inner ward, and were there for the same reason that the men on the wall-walk were. All around were small encampments, mostly empty save for a few bags and weapon racks. A barrel of water set at each gathering of homes, perched atop rickety wooden carts meant to transport them to and from their water-source. In times of war, the grounds would have had a higher population but, at this moment, the bulk of the soldiers were standing atop the wall. Considering the place they were guarding, it seemed likely they would never even have use for their weapons.

  Daveth’s awe-struck gaze was broken by the sound of his name being barked sharply. His head turned to quickly face the source of the voice, and he saw before him a tall thin man dressed in the robes of the Faithful. The comfort and safety Daveth usually felt from seeing the light-grey garment, donning golden embroidery of feathery wings on the chest, was contrasted by the unsettlingly sharp features of the man that wore them. His long stringy black hair hung over the shoulders of the robes. A few stray strands jutted from his receding hairline and into his face as if pointing directly at the high cheekbones on his dark-skinned face.

  “Are you going to stand there and stare all day, boy?” the man asked, his tone as sharp as his features.

  “No, sir, I’m sorry. Father Aaron?” he asked, feeling foolish for asking as soon as the words left his mouth.

  Scoffing, he turned quickly away from the young man and began walking toward the inner gate. He didn’t even bother to answer Daveth’s question as he ordered, “Well, hurry up then. There’s a lot to cover and not a lot of time.”

  The tour began once they had reached the inner ward where the training grounds were circled around the grand stone structure of the cathedral. Father Aaron, while thorough, was very curt in his explana
tions. He didn’t miss a single thing, but made no effort to elaborate on any of it. Daveth could use his own common sense to fill in most of the blanks, but there were things he hoped would be explained later on. It had become clear, after his first attempt to ask a question being met with a slim pointed finger and nothing more, that the man wasn’t interested in conversational detours.

  The tour took several hours, as the grounds were huge. Most of the time was spent in silence traveling on foot between locations, and not once did the Father turn to look at him or even acknowledge his existence beyond speaking his obviously-rehearsed lines. The end of the tour landed them back at the hall of the cathedral, where the Faithful had been roomed in times when it had still been a place of worship. Now, the rooms were used to house the Knights, as well as other staff that required regular access to the inner ward.

  Stopping in front of a wooden door, the Father finally looked at Daveth. He felt as if he were a ghost that had just been seen for the first time. “This is where you will stay. It is to remain clean at all times. Your tidiness will be reviewed daily, and at random. When the bell rings in the morning, you will have five minutes to get dressed and get to your class. I trust you recall where the Academy is?”

  Daveth nodded readily. “Yes, sir.”

  The man cringed at Daveth’s response, but made no comment as to why. “Once class is finished, you will then have ten minutes to change into your practice armor and meet the others in the training yard. Meal times are announced by a bell, after which you will resume the task you were on before.” He took a breath, waiting as if dreading to say what came next. “Ask your questions now, because I won’t have time for them later.”

  “What happens if I’m late?” Daveth asked, considering the strict timeframes and how large the grounds were that he would have to traverse.

  “Don’t be,” the man answered firmly.

  “I don’t intend to be, but, if I am?”

  The already-wrinkled features of the man creased further. “This is not your stable, boy. Nobody is going to slap you upside the head if you mess something up. Everything that you do, every drink that you take, every dream that you have, and every step you make wrongly is being judged and, for all intents and purposes, graded. Decide for yourself how you think your tardiness will be handled, but I do not recommend testing those waters. This is a house of discipline, and the last thing that will be tolerated is insubordination, especially from the likes of you. Am I clear?”

  He seemed to get some satisfaction from his lecture, but Daveth still wasn’t deterred. “Understood,” he said firmly in response, nodding his head. “After training, what is the schedule?”

  Aaron rolled his eyes. “After training there is nothing. You are free at that point to sleep or dance or do whatever it is your kind does when given freedom. That is, assuming that you have any energy left.” He eyed the young man up and down, and a spidery grin wrinkled the skin in the corner of his thin lips. “I wouldn’t count on that, though.”

  Biting his tongue, Daveth simply nodded. He was trying to stay positive, but the man was making it very clear that he was unwanted here. Telling himself that it was just a part of the training was not as convincing as he’d hoped, but it was all he had to hold on to. “I think that’s it, then,” he said finally, “Thank you.”

  “That’s thank you sir,” the man corrected abruptly, as if he had been waiting for that part of the conversation all day.

  “Thank you, sir,” Daveth replied as calmly as he could while trying his best to keep it from getting under his skin.

  Without another word, the robed man turned on his heels again and walked away. Daveth opened the door to his room, finding cold stone walls and dusty furniture to greet him. The room had no windows, and only a small wooden cabinet with many dents in it. In place of a bed sat a pile of blankets folded atop each other stacked in a corner. Compared to the Haven he had grown up in, it was a dump, but considering the dregs he’d lived in for the last half a dozen years, it was akin to paradise.

  The young man set his bag in an empty corner, moving toward the linens to get ready for bed. The moment he lay his head down on the rolled up blanket he was using for a pillow, all of the adrenaline of the day and night were gone. His eyes shut, and he was fast asleep.

  Chapter 4

  The ringing of a loud bell awakened the new recruit, signaling (despite the still darkness of his quarters) that dawn had arrived. Daveth leapt from his makeshift bed and immediately changed into the only other clothing that he had: a pair of stockings for his legs and a plain cloth tunic that cinched at his waist. Apparel hadn’t concerned him in years, yet now he found himself acutely aware that he would probably stand out as the poorest person here. After all, peasants didn’t get the training or schooling that was, under normal circumstances, required in order to even be considered for Knighthood.

  He couldn’t change what he looked like and he couldn’t change his past, but Daveth hurried to his first class determined to change his future. When he arrived there, he was one of six other young men in the room (one of which was the squire, Leroy), and at its front was Father Aaron. The lecture lasted for several hours, during which time the Father was the only one to speak. He rattled off information as the young men in the room all scribbled on sheets of parchment as quickly as they could to take notes. Daveth had no paper or pen, and none were supplied for him. His eyes remained locked on the Father for the entire lesson, and he listened to every word.

  As the bell rang again, the other men in the room rushed to their feet and out to the training yard. Daveth moved to follow them, but the tight grip of bony fingers on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. “Do you think yourself too good to take notes in my class?” the man’s mocking voice jeered.

  Turning to look at him, as he was sure it would be rude not to, Daveth replied frankly, “Well, I don’t have anything to take notes with. But I did pay attention, I swear.”

  Scoffing, the man replied, “Funny, I had thought you too poor to afford to pay attention. Well, then, if you learned so much then you should be able to answer a few questions for me.”

  Glancing at the door, Daveth shifted his feet uncomfortably. “I- I have to get to training, though.”

  “What class of dragon collects gold and hoards treasure?” the man asked, clearly more interested in taunting him than helping him to succeed.

  Without hesitation, Daveth replied, “The Red Dragon. They tend to make their homes in high caves and cliffs and sleep on their beds of gold.”

  The man rolled his eyes. “That one was simple. What kind of weapon should you use against a fae?”

  Daveth hesitated, this time, narrowing his eyes at the question. That wasn’t information that had been covered in the Father’s lesson, yet, and he knew that he was being set up. If he said that it wasn’t covered, the man would probably accuse him of not paying attention. Lucky for Daveth, though, he had always held an interest in magical creatures, considering his dream to become a Knight. While he had no doubt that he would learn a lot more here than he ever had on his own, he was confident that he knew enough to at least get through this pop quiz. “Normally, I would say Iron. Since Knights don’t usually carry iron weapons, then I would say we should probably trap them in an object and destroy it with iron at the first opportunity.”

  Father Aaron’s face drew down in an irritated scowl. “Wrong. Trapping a foe is not an option. Creatures of magic are far smarter than you, especially if you are foolish enough not to carry something on your person to deal with the issue immediately.”

  Daveth forced a smile, knowing that his answer could have been just as correct. “Well, that certainly is good to know,” was all that he could think to say.

  “You are going to be late,” the teacher snapped, waving his hand in the air as if shooing away a fly. “Get out of my classroom.”

  He didn’t have to tell Daveth twice, as the young man hurried out as soon as he was instructed. Having already lost some
time, he ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the Training Grounds. The suits of practice armor were all kept in a pile in a shed to the side, and when Daveth got there, there was only one suit left. Made of a thin lightweight metal, the armor was not at all decorative and held many dents small and large all over it. The neck, armpit, and a few other areas were missing the chainmail that was supposed to be in place to protect what the plate couldn’t. He supposed, being that this was just practice, it shouldn’t be a problem.

  After suiting up, Daveth grabbed a wooden long sword from off of the wall. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as the one he had held at the Arena, yet suddenly the weight of those events came back to him full force. The dark figure, a man dying at his hand, and all that had happened since the day before weighed on him more than the weapons and armor he now donned. His hand shook as he stood staring at the wooden sword.

  “Hey,” the whisper behind him broke him from his daze, and Daveth wheeled around quickly to find Leroy the squire in the doorway of the small shed. The young man waved a hand enthusiastically, “Just wanted to let you know that there are parchment and quills in the storage room. They’re free for students. I noticed you didn’t have anything during class.”

  Daveth, still breaking away from his moment of weakness, forced a warm smile to the other. “Thanks. I must have missed that part of the tour,” he reasoned, knowing well in his mind that he had been set up to fail.

  The squire nodded, “If you have questions or anything, let me know. I know my way around here pretty well by now.”

  “I will do that,” the new recruit replied, glad to know that at least someone was on his side here. On his way out the door, Daveth grabbed a wooden shield off of the wall near the swords.

  Much like his experience in the classroom, Daveth’s first training session was less than ideal. The course was led by Sir Henry, and there were far more fighters than there were scholars. Each man in training was paired with a Knight to teach them the basics. After Henry dictated who was going to be paired with whom, Daveth was the only trainee left at the end without a tutor.