Pelya’s face reddened because of the laughter aimed at her, but she considered his words seriously. The thought that anyone would grow up without learning how to use a sword seemed foreign to her. Ever since she could remember, a sword had been part of her life. Theoretically, she knew that other people in the world lived in nice houses and never used one, but it didn’t seem real to her.
The commander had stopped laughing and was helping the man back to his feet. Gilron looked closely at Pelya. “I’m serious about the words, but you don’t have to take it so gravely, lass.”
She took all things regarding weaponry very seriously. Looking at the commander, she saw the humor dancing across his eyes. “Are you jesting me?” she asked suspiciously. “Has he truly never used a sword before?”
“Nay, lass. You have an amazing amount of skill, talent and knowledge, but you’re very naïve about the world. Most of these recruits come here without experience. As you know, it’s our job to train them so they can survive within the guard.” He stood tall and his tone became serious, taking his familiar air of command. “Everybody’s path in life is different. You and your father hate it when people say that you are disadvantaged for being raised in the Guard. Why would you judge someone else’s abilities?” His manner changed to disappointment. “You are an amazing person, but you’re still a child and I’ll not have you looking down your nose on anyone. Is that clear, Pelya?”
She felt her face heat in mortification and lowered her head. “Yes Sir.”
“Keep your head up,” he commanded. She snapped her chin up in the air, but her jaw was set firmly in an attempt to control her emotions. Pelya’s least favorite thing in the world was being reprimanded. Gilron put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’re young, only eleven. Even at such a young age, you’re better with hand-to-hand combat and the sword than many adults, but there’s still a lot left to learn about life.”
He folded his arms and stared at her for a minute. She looked up at him nervously, wondering what was going through his mind. “I’m sorry I judged him. I didn’t mean to, Sir.”
“No, no. It’s alright. He was being an oaf,” Gilron said, dismissing the recruit with a wave of his hand, much to the embarrassment of the man. “Here’s the thing, Pelya . . .” He paused, considering his phrasing. “You need a little less combat training and a little more life experience. Come with me.” The weaponmaster wrapped his arm around her shoulders, took the sword gently from her and tossed it to one of the recruits who immediately fumbled and dropped it. “The rest of you get back to work!” he boomed suddenly. The frightened trainees scurried in all directions, not knowing what to do.
Gilron led Pelya out of the practice yard back toward the barracks where she lived with her father and his squad, a different barracks than when she was a baby. He didn’t say anything right away because there were a lot of people around. In addition to saluting the commander, they all said hi or gave a little wave to Pelya, who smiled weakly in return. She had a sick feeling in her stomach from worrying about what he was going to say to her.
A few minutes later, they were at the squad’s quarters. She now had her own small room in the back where she slept and was able to keep the things she had been given. For a young child, Pelya was pretty well off. Her aunts and uncles, as she liked to call nearly everyone in the City Guard, kept giving her little gifts even when it wasn’t her birthday. They also gave her the occasional copper or even a silver piece now and then so she could get a treat or something nice for herself. With thousands of aunts and uncles, it translated into quite a bit of money over time. She tried to refuse after a while, but everyone still kept slipping her coins.
Pelya was one of the few people in the guard who had a room with a lock. She unlocked the door and invited the commander in. A few coppers had been shoved under the door and she kicked them aside. “How much money do you have?” Gilron asked, noticing the motion.
She shrugged and did a quick count of the coins on the floor. “With those, I have sixty eight gold, nine silver and four copper. Most of it’s in the City Guard’s bank, and I converted the values like I learned in math classes.”
The commander stared at her incredulously. “I don’t have that much money,” he whispered in awe, looking at the coppers on the floor.
“I get money everyday,” she replied with arms spread. “I’ve been telling everyone they don’t need to do that, but they keep giving coins to me anyway. It’s usually coppers, but there are so many of them that they add up.”
“You said you have it in the bank. Is it under Frath’s name?” Gilron asked. He sat on one of the two chairs by the small table in the room and gestured for her to sit in the other. There was also a bed, nightstand, water basin and a sturdy chest of drawers in the room. A carpet given to her by Lady Pallon covered most of the floor and she even had two paintings and a small tapestry on the walls.
“No, Daddy made them put it all under my name. He said he makes enough to support us and the Guard takes care of most basic expenses anyway.”
“I see,” he replied. For a minute, he just stared at her. It made Pelya uncomfortable. The commander made almost everyone uncomfortable because he had the ability to stare into a person’s soul and take their measure. He rarely did it to her though. She decided to stare back.
He chuckled. “You’re not at all intimidated by me. I like that, lass. You weren’t intimidated as a baby and you’re still not.” Then he sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. “You’re my favorite person ever, Pelya. I don’t like anyone as much as I like you. Thank you for being in my life.”
“Thank you, Uncle. You’re one of my favorite people too,” she replied with a smile, realizing that he was speaking to her on a personal level, not as an officer.
“You can practice for one hour per day, but that’s it from now on. The rest of the time, you need to do anything else,” he told her abruptly. “In fact, you don’t have to do even that hour if you don’t want to.”
With her worst fears realized, Pelya’s heart instantly sank into her stomach and bobbed there unhappily. Tears flowed and she didn’t even care. “I don’t want to do anything else. I like being in the Guard,” she said, her voice broken and trembling. Pelya had nightmares that she would be kicked out of the Guard someday and it sounded to her like the weaponmaster was doing exactly that.
He held her hand with one of his and patted it gently with the other. “This is not a punishment. You need to learn a little bit more about the world outside.”
“But I’m not allowed outside the Guard District!” she wailed. “I don’t want to go into the city. It’s evil and everyone wants to kill everyone else and it’s terrible.” Pelya almost never cried, but she was young and this was the worst news she had ever had. All she could do was cry.
“What’s going on, Commander?” a voice asked. It was Herman, one of her best uncles who had remained with Frath and Pelya. She liked him because he always had a quick joke and smile ready for her. Now he was concerned and possibly a little angry.
Pelya rushed to him and held onto him while crying uncontrollably. Her life was ending. She wasn’t allowed in the Guard anymore. She was sure that was what was happening. All her life Pelya had known that she would be a member of the Dralin City Guard. “I have to leave!” she wailed at Herman.
“Leave?! What?!” Herman bared his teeth at the weaponmaster. “What has she done? Tell me!”
“NO!” Gilron yelled. “I didn’t tell her she had to leave. She misunderstood.” He buried his face in his palm as the other five members of the squad who were in the barracks at that moment rushed in, demanding to know what in the world had happened.
It took a moment for things to calm down and the commander was unable to stop one of the squad from rushing out to find Frath. Gilron leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs out in front of him until Frath got there. Pelya stopped crying after a few minutes and finally sat back down. She took the handkerchief one of the guards handed he
r to blow her nose. The sniffles didn’t go away though.
A few minutes later, Frath came running in. “Who says Pelya has to leave?! Over my dead body!” He saw Gilron. “Commander! What’s going on?” Pelya immediately latched onto his waist and he put an arm around her shoulders protectively.
“Relax, Corporal. I didn’t say she had to leave,” he replied with a weary wave of his hand.
“That’s good, because she’s not!” Frath insisted, supported loudly by the others crammed in the room. Pelya began to feel hope.
“At attention!” Commander Coodmur yelled, jumping up from the chair. It sounded like an avalanche of rocks falling down a mountain. To an individual they snapped to attention facing the commander and put fists on their hearts in the worldwide gesture of a salute, even Pelya. “Are you listening?” he asked testily, hands on hips.
“Yes Sir!” they yelled in unison.
“Good. First of all, Pelya does not have to leave. Nobody has to leave. Is that clear?” he barked out firmly.
“Yes Sir!”
“Good.” He folded his arms. Pelya could see he was mad and she didn’t like it when the weaponmaster was mad at her. Gilron ground his teeth side to side for a moment and then said, “I told her that she needs to learn about life outside of the Guard. All she knows is the City Guard. She has no empathy, compassion or even a simple, basic understanding of anything else.”
Frath broke attention and rested his hands on her shoulders, gripping them gently in relief and reassurance. Pelya realized she was still at attention and relaxed too. The others gradually took their ease and considered the words.
“I told the lass that she’s allowed to exercise for an hour per day. She may also continue her studies, but that needs to be kept reasonable too, perhaps two hours a day or so. After that, she needs to do something else,” Gilron insisted. “Perhaps she can find someone to play with. She is a child after all.”
“I am not!” Pelya protested vehemently, even though she knew, technically, that she was.
The weaponmaster chuckled. “Yes, you are.” He squatted down so they were eye level. Pelya was tall for her age, so he didn’t have to bend too much. “Pelya, you’re more mature, well read, stronger, and wiser than many adults, but you’re still a child and you need to get a better understanding of . . . things,” he finished lamely.
Pelya stared at him, not having a clue what he was talking about and not liking it. She folded her arms and glared at him. The second his expression firmed, Pelya knew it was a battle she wasn’t going to win.
“Frath, you need to find something for the girl to do. She can’t go into the city alone, but with all the aunts and uncles she seems to have.” Gilron waggled his fingers at the others packed shoulder to shoulder in the small room, “perhaps someone can take her out for a day here and there,” he suggested.
Pelya looked up over her shoulder at her father, not really knowing how she felt about the suggestion. On one hand, the thought of not drilling every day was terrifying. On the other hand, having a lot of days out to go see the city seemed like it might be fun.
Frath squeezed her shoulders and nodded. “Alright. For today, I’ll take her to Lady Pallon’s. After that, we’ll figure out some sort of schedule.”
Pelya hung her head. She briefly considered throwing a tantrum, but they never really worked and she was trying to act like an adult. It wasn’t going to keep her from pouting though.
“Can we let me out now?” Gilron asked. The squad members, who now included members of Frath’s unit bunched up at the door, scattered out of the weaponmaster’s way. Frath shooed the rest of them out and they left reluctantly, saying goodbye to Pelya and patting her shoulders in sympathy.
When they were gone, Frath closed the door and sat down on the chair the weaponmaster had vacated. Pelya instantly climbed into his lap and curled up while he held her. They sat there quietly for a few minutes before he patted her on the back. “Alright. Let’s take you to Lady Pallon’s for the rest of the day. We’ll go with my unit. They’re not too incompetent and shouldn’t get us killed,” he told her with a wink. She winked back sadly then grabbed a change of clothes as he left the room and shut the door.
Lady Pallon liked Pelya to wear nice clothes even if it wasn’t a dress. Blue was her favorite color, so she put on the silk tunic with silver embroidery her father had bought for her on her last birthday. Then she matched that with black leggings that also had silver embroidery. She liked the look of silver and steel much more than gold. Her silver-buckled belt and nice boots were high-quality leather, and she kept a longknife in a sheath at her side. No one would let her carry a sword, so it was the next best thing, even though most people didn’t realize how deadly she could be with it.
When she came out of the room, Frath stared at her with his arms crossed. Pelya stopped and looked down. Everything was in place and it was a good outfit. “What’s wrong, Daddy?” she asked.
He looked at the waiting guardspeople and then back at Pelya, scratching his head thoughtfully. “Come into your room with me. I want to talk to you about something before we go.”
Pelya was beginning to develop a powerful distaste for adults talking to her, but she followed him obediently and sat down as he shut the door. She decided not to say anything, waiting for him to speak instead.
He sat down across from her. Frath looked her in the eyes with his brilliantly faceted purple ones that she loved so much, took a deep breath and asked, “Have you killed anyone yet?”
The words were like ice down her spine. There was a severity to the question she hadn’t heard from her father before and she got the impression that her answer would be extremely important. She answered, “No, Father. I haven’t. I promise.”
“Has anyone spoken to you about it? What it feels like?” he asked gravely.
She didn’t like the questions at all. “No. Nobody’s spoken to me about it. Why are you asking me all this, Daddy? I don’t understand.”
“I’m asking because you’re wearing such a dangerous knife at your side.” He pointed at it and she looked down, running her fingers over leather wrapped hilt and perfectly balanced crossbar. “You know how to use it and you’ve been trained in fighting.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Have you considered that the time may come when you have to use it? Perhaps not now, perhaps not until you’re older, but the time may come.”
Pelya had drilled with practice swords and studied about how to kill people, but had always taken it for granted. It never occurred to her to consider it as anything but part of the duty of a guardsperson. She scrunched up her face and thought about it for a moment while Frath watched her. Try as she would, Pelya couldn’t think of why it would be a problem, so she shrugged.
“Listen carefully,” Frath said, getting her full attention. “If you are attacked or find a need to defend yourself, you already know to take your weapon and how to use it, yes?”
Pelya nodded.
The look in her father’s violet eyes became even more intense. “What you don’t know is what it feels like when your knife slides into a person’s skin and wedges into a bone. You don’t know what it feels like when hot blood that tastes like salty iron hits you in the face and leaks through your lips to your tongue. You don’t know what it feels like when the person looks at you in confusion as they gasp for breath that isn’t there anymore and blood gurgles out the side of their mouth. You don’t know what it’s like when they fall to the ground and the life visibly fades from their eyes, which become dull and empty. You don’t know what it feels like to stand over them and know that they died because you just killed them.”
Tears streamed down Pelya’s eyes as he spoke and her face was twisted in fear and confusion. In her lap, her hands clenched each other tightly, becoming white with the pressure. Pelya didn’t know why everyone suddenly wanted her to be miserable, but she felt worse than she had in her entire life.
Frath took her hands in his. “I’m saying this to
you because the reality is much worse. It looks like you’re going to be a member of the Guard when you grow up, even though you don’t have to be. In the Guard, there comes a time for most where they end up in a situation where it’s kill or be killed. It feels bad to kill someone. Probably not as bad as being the one who gets killed, but bad nonetheless,” he told her with a half-hearted chuckle.
Pelya wasn’t remotely amused. She didn’t want to kill anyone or use a weapon anymore. Undoing the silver buckle on her belt, she slid off the knife with its sheath and threw it on the ground.
“Here now. That’s not what I’m trying to accomplish,” Frath told her, picking it up.
“I don’t want to kill anyone or use a sword anymore!” she yelled in confusion. “I’ll be a child and do whatever you want. Please stop being mad at me. I’m sorry! Please stop being mad” she pleaded desperately.
“Oh no! I’m not mad at you at all,” Frath responded earnestly. He pulled her from her chair into his lap with one big sweeping movement. Even though she was eleven, her father could easily pick her up at any time. She liked that he was so strong. It made her feel safe most of the time. “No. I’m not mad at you. No one’s mad at you. Shh,” he said, rocking her back and forth in the chair.
Pelya held on as tight as possible and cried. The day had started out so nice, but turned into a nightmare and she didn’t know what else to do.
She clung to him until he finally stopped rocking a little while later. He offered her back the knife, but she shook her head vigorously and pulled away, not wanting anything to do with it anymore. She just wanted to hide away somewhere in a corner where no one would yell at her anymore.
Frath set the knife down on the table and stood up. Instead of standing on her own two feet, she remained clinging around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Even though he was mad at her, her father was the safest place in the world. He shifted her into a comfortable position on his hip and carried her out of the room.
Dralin Page 15
