“The only one telling me lies was you old man.” Victor felt himself begin to seethe, when he remembered what Nim had said about doing this while in a rage. With that thought all of the anger bled out of him, and he felt a strange calm suffuse his body. His entire stance and demeanor changed, and he watched as Ol' man Walkins shifted uncomfortably. “What I want to know is if you had anything to do with the attack on my home. Did you have anything to do with driving away Shaylyn?”
Walkins had seen Victor ferret out lies when the boy knew what he was looking for, and he knew he dare not lie now. He had been warned about this boy. “Victor, I was just told that you would be on a certain street in the evening. I swear I didn't know what they were going to do, and I have no idea where Shaylyn Arasmé is.”
“I believe you, and that may keep you alive.” Victor said, without feeling before asking, “Who was the mage that burned down my home?”
“I can't tell you that Victor, I'm not sure which one it was, and if I told you their names they would kill me.”
“Alright, how many of the other kids here were orphaned by the mages, or because of you?” Victor stood still, a part of his mind at work gathering energy in case he needed it.
“All of them.”
They both watched as Shawnrik tensed. Shawnrik was nearer to fourteen than thirteen, but most people would assume he was nearer to eighteen from his size alone. Walkins had trained both of them on how to damage or kill someone with your bare hands alone. Neither of the boys were particularly skilled at it yet, but Shawnrik was only twenty pounds lighter than Ol' man Walkins, even if he himself didn't realize it.
“Who killed my family?” Shawnrik asked through tight lips and clenched teeth.
Walkins stood there looking back and forth between the boys, and for the first time in ten years was afraid of someone other than a Blood Mage. “It's not that simple… Your parents owed money… and...”
“Who?” Victor asked quietly.
“… I did.” Shawnrik lunged at him, and Walkins threw his dagger. Both of them stopped in surprise when the dagger seemed to take on a mind of it's own shortly before striking Shawnrik, ending its flight in a rafter beam above his head instead of his eye. Ol' man Walkins recovered from the shock slightly before Shawnrik, and had another dagger out before Shawnrik made it across the room. Victor wasted no time, and wasn't surprised when the dagger went astray, so he bent his will into forming four small balls of force. Walkins was getting ready to slash at Shawnrik when he suddenly found himself flipping over the chair he had been sitting in moments before. He reached down and used the top of the chair to control his decent, he twisted in the air and came down on his feet, pulling another dagger out and throwing it at Victor. Victor had been ready for the throw however, and was already on the move as the dagger left his old mentor's hand, ending up stuck in the door where he had been.
Shawnrik charged into Ol' man Walkins, taking a strong left hook in his shoulder as he did so. It wasn't enough to stop the young man though and he once again found himself weightless before slamming into one of the support beams, not quite sure if the crack he had heard was from the beam or one of his bones. Shawnrik stumbled backwards as Walkins painfully tried to regain the air that had been knocked out of him. Victor sent another volley of force at the man as he reached down for the daggers in his boots..
“Shawnrik get back.” Victor yelled as Walkins pulled the daggers.
Shawnrik moved back quickly, but he knew he would never dodge the throw from this range. Both of the daggers were on mark, and the first thudded into Shawnrik's chest, right where his heart was, before falling to the ground. The only evidence it had hit was the small drop of blood on the tip of the dagger. Had he been prepared, that drop of blood drawn might have been enough to turn the tide, but he had not expected to need to coat his daggers this day.
The other dagger flew straight for Victor before being thrown to the side by his projectile trap. Walkins blinked, a thought crossed his mind then wondering who the boys had gotten to cast the wards on them, before he realized that Victor wasn't using a scroll to cast his balls of force, he knew then that they had severely underestimated how much the boy had learned from Shaylyn. Recovering from that shock he grabbed another set of daggers, he was running out quickly. Victor formed four more missles, a twinge of pain forming in the back of his head told him that he was stretching his limits. Walkins tried to get out of the way, but the force projectiles direction changed as if being led to him by a string. Walkins clothes were in tatters, and his body was not faring much better.
Shawnrik picked up the two daggers lying by his feet(the one that had been thrown at him, and the one that Walkins had dropped as he went head over heals over the chair), and hurled them towards Walkins as the man was pulling out his last set of daggers. Ol' man Walkins didn't even try to dodge Shawnrik's dagger, seeing that it wouldn't hit him, and prepared to throw. What he didn't realize however was that Shawnrik had not been aiming at him, but at the jar behind him. The jar shattered, sending a cloud of flour outward, causing him to cough as he released the daggers. His offhand had thrown the one at Shawnrik and was affected by the cough more than the other, and went wide, striking well to the left of the boy. His other dagger was not nearly so off target, striking Victor solidly in his left shoulder, his thickened clothes and skin absorbing much of the damage, but the force of it was enough to push him back into the door.
Walkins rolled out of the cloud of flour, picking up the dagger that had hit the jar on his way out, he let fly, knowing that Shawnrik would throw his other dagger at him, and dove for the back room. Shawnrik braced for the daggers impact when the thing flew off to the side, Victor's projectile trap having been refueled by the previous impacts to his body. Victor let loose the last set of projectiles he knew he would make this day, and the pain in his head made him wince, missing the point when they impacted with Ol' man Walkins' back. Shawnrik threw the dagger in his left hand, and winced when his shoulder protested the action, Walkins had gotten in a good hit earlier when he punched him, and he knew it was going to hurt for awhile. They heard Walkins hit the floor and swear loudly and the boys were getting ready to move in on him when the door behind Victor was flung open sending the boy into the wall with a thump.
“Oops” Ashur said as he walked over to where Victor was sprawled out, helping him to his feet.
“We heard a struggle and came as quick as we could.” The fight had only lasted a few minutes, so Nim and Ashur had been pretty quick to respond. Walkins rolled over and looked up as he heard the new voices and groaned.
“I should have figured it was you!” Walkins voice held nothing but venom. “Only you could ruin something planned so well, so perfectly.”
“Are you still sore about that fight we had? That was what... ten years ago? It would never have happened if you hadn't sold Ashur, Erin and me out to the Dracair!” Nim growled as he slowly slid the dagger at his side from it's sheath. Victor put his hand on Nim's, easing the dagger back into the sheath.
“I think he's had enough for now.” Victor said, his voice sad. “Besides, he's going to have to tell the Blood Mages that he failed, and I wouldn't want to be in that position.”
Nim looked at Victor questioningly, but took his hand away from the hilt of his dagger. “Stand up you coward.”
Walkins stood shakily, using the bed for support, blood dripped from his cheek in a line where Shawnrik's last throw had grazed him. Nim realized then what Victor had meant. Walkins skin was a dark red, his tattered shirt simply emphasizing the amount of damage that had been inflicted upon the man in such a short span. He held a dagger defensively, body tensed as if it expected to get hit by another ball of force.
“I think the boy hurt your pride more than I could ever have. I may have beaten you ten years ago, but I was only four years younger than you. Victor is thirty-two years younger than you, and look at you.” Nim chuckled dryly as he looked at his old rival. Walkins was now shaking with rage, but t
he man knew that if he tried anything Nim would kill him, and he very much liked being alive. “Get out of my home!” Walkins said, at the same moment a group of children ran up the stairs from the outside, having been alerted to the fight one of them had run off to gather the others.
“Victor!” the wide eyed seven year old named Roland called, and the other children all flooded through the door at his name. There were six other children that lived in the apartment, four other boys, and two girls. They all stopped and stared at Victor and Shawnrik, who were clean and wore nice clothing. Seeing the other kids, Victor realized he had been being selfish, and he looked at Nim, the question clearly visible on his face.
Nim nodded when he saw the look. “I can find a place for them. They will have better homes than they had here.”
Victor smiled at Nim and looked at the other children. “Get some clothes on, and get your coats. We're leaving.” All of the kids looked to Walkins, who stood on the other side of the room, eyes full of hatred.
Shawnrik walked over to the kids, and ushered them past the man into the room to get their stuff ready. He was the oldest, and all the children quickly responded to his coaxing. It didn't take long for all of the children to get their meager possessions gathered up. As the sun began to set eight children and two adults left the Docks District behind, and none of them were sad about it.
“What's all this then?” A familiar voice asked as they walked past one of the street lamps. Victor looked over to see Watchman Tanner looking their direction.
Nim looked over at the man, and recognition lit up his face. “Lance Tanner, is that you?”
Tanner looked at Nim and the same look of recognition lit up his features, “Nim! How long has it been, seven, eight years, and it's Watchman Tanner now.”
“Watchman eh? I remember when you were a little thief the same age as Shawnrik here.” Nim said walking over to shake hands with Tanner.
Shawnrik's head shot up at that, and he smiled. “I knew it! I knew there was something odd about him.”
Watchman Tanner looked at Nim. “Did you have to tell them that? I'm trying to straighten them out.” He looked over the children that were assembled there. “Aren't these Ol' man Walkins kids? What are you doing with them?”
“The same thing I did with you Tanner, I'm getting them away from that crazy bastard.” Nim laughed and slapped Watchman Tanner on the Shoulder. “Victor here taught Walkins a lesson tonight that I don't think he'll soon be forgetting, and now I'll be playing matchmaker for orphan's again.”
Tanner looked at Nim with a measure of respect and saluted. “I don't want to keep you from your business then, it's cold, and those kids need a decent nights sleep. You have a long walk ahead of you; don't let me hold you up. I've got patrols to keep anyway.” Tanner and Nim clasped arms again, and Tanner started down the street patrolling the Dock's District. Nim took the group home, got everyone a bath and a bed, before going to work trying to figure out where to put them all.
*****
“Walkins has failed, and the boy Victor is now in the care of a performer.”
“Yes Temendri, he is in the care of Nim Mithriannil. This could work out better than expected. You are young, and you take too much to heart. Nim is as much of a scoundrel as Walkins could ever be, he just lets his conscience guide him more than Walkins ever would. He has much more hatred than the common man, and he can teach the boy even more than Walkins was going to teach him. There is still time to shape the boy into a weapon.”
“But Yandarian our master said that he has waited long for this, and that we should take care not to mess this up. I would not want to fail him.” Temendri looked around nervously as if their master was listening in, which might be more true than the man knew.
“You are right.” Yandarian said nodding his head.
“What will we do now then?” Temendri was being cautious, and rightfully so Yandarian was not one to make angry, and he was much more lenient than their master.
“Yes, I am already in the process of making our next plan. I have sent that failure Walkins to go oversee the slave camps northeast of the great desert. He will fester there, and then he will be broken enough to fulfill the purpose I have for him. Breathe easy young mage, all is in order.”
Chapter 7
Let the Training Begin
Year 3043 AGD
Month: New Life
Second Sixth day
Continent of Terroval
City of Safeharbor
Cliff's End
Nim's Mansion
Victor was excited. The last of the children would find a place to live today. Nim had spent time with each child learning what their interests were, and where their strengths lay, and found them each a place to live accordingly. If they wanted to become scholars, he put them into an academy. If they wanted to be an artist, he sent them to a school of arts. Victor was excited for his friends, because they would all get an opportunity to succeed. He was even more excited for himself, because soon he would start his real training with Nim. Ashur had already pulled Shawnrik aside and started to teach him how to use all the weapons he knew, which seemed to be just about all of them. It was spring, and the birds had all returned from wherever it was they went during the winter months. Flowers could be seen beginning to sprout everywhere throughout the city, instead of just those few places that could afford to have the plants magically tended. It was the time of year that brought the city new life, which Victor was fairly positive was the reason they named the month that, though Nim had said something about birth rates or some such when he had asked. Sometimes it was so hard to get a straight answer out of the man. There was an excited buzz on the streets of Safeharbor as information slowly trickled in about the happenings that had been missed from the other civilized parts of the world during the winter. Some information was bound to come in from one source or another during the winter, usually from the lands of the Protectorate, but ships had begun coming into the harbors more frequently, bringing news from the entire world. More information yet would come in when the caravans began to arrive from the various communities on the continent.
Victor moved away from the window of his room, peeled off his nightclothes, and walked into the adjoining room for a bath. After he dried off he put on his street clothes and went downstairs to start the day. Victor found Shawnrik in the mansion's entryway admiring the lion statue and he greeted him warmly.
“Want to go into the city today?” Victor asked.
“Oh, I can't” Shawnrik said rubbing his arm subconsciously. “I've got more practice with Ashur today, and I'm going to need all of my strength.”
“Well, at least he is training you. I've mostly had to preoccupy myself with books from the Library these last few months. There are a lot of really good books in there by the way. Nim hasn't started teaching me much yet, he's been too busy finding homes for everyone. Not that I'm ungrateful for that, but he could spare five minutes to teach me something more than once an Eighthday.”
“Maybe he's trying to teach you patience?” Shawnrik said with a laugh. “Cypheria knows you could use more of that.”
“I'm patient. I just don't like to wait around.” Victor smiled back at his friend. “Besides, it's almost springtime, I feel so cooped up in here.”
“Good, then you won't mind coming with me to the south gate to start negotiations on the prices of various items this year.” A voice emanating from directly behind them stated, which caused both boys to jump. Victor pulled his dagger and Shawnrik assumed a fighting stance with his fists balled. When you've lived in the Dock's District you learned not to let people get behind you. They both saw Nim standing a few feet behind them assuming a casual stance, as if he wasn't being threatened with violence by two children. “Good reaction time.” Nim mumbled.
“Price negotiations?“ Victor asked, ignoring the quiet compliment, while sheathing his dagger. He then added, his voice somber, “That's what you're going to do?”
“Yes Victor and
it will teach you something about diplomacy. This will mark the beginning of what I will teach you this year. It's not necessarily being able to get the right price, but being able to read a person. I know you are naturally good at that, but I can teach you the more subtle nature of business.”
Victor looked at Shawnrik, both rolled their eyes.
“Don't roll your eyes at me, being able to read a person is an extraordinarily valuable skill in life. I'm going to teach you etiquette, proper grammar, which you are already rather well versed in, and all of the other finer arts that one must know to converse with merchants and nobility.”
Victor looked at him, dumbstruck. “Me, conversing with nobility? I think you hit your head when you woke up this morning Nim.” Shawnrik laughed, but Nim didn't.
“I'm quite serious. I'm going to prepare you for the grand adventure that awaits you in life, and I'm going to do that by teaching you the finer points first. Then we can learn the more lively part. That should give you some incentive to learn quickly.” Nim added with a smile. “Now, let's get some breakfast.”
As they walked down the hall Shawnrik asked. “Do lion's really exist?”
“Do lions exist? That's like asking if Orcs were real. Of course they exist, there just as real as dragons. Just because you haven't seen something before doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Can you see the air? No, but we know it's there, because we breathe it, and we can feel it on our faces when there is a breeze.”
“Ok, I get the point, it was just a question.” Shawnrik said sorry that he asked.
“I can feel the air...” Victor mumbled to himself.
“No, don't be sorry for asking. I may be a little abrupt sometimes, but there is little I hate more than ignorance. If you have questions just ask me.” Nim replied, obviously missing Victor's response.
Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) Page 15
