The Ascending

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  “How about that boy? Headed for certain doom, I presume?”

  Keiron had meant to call Dervit out on his paranoia, and Jahrra, although believing the limbit might be reading too much into things at times, cast her Resai companion a disapproving glance. He didn’t have to poke fun at her friend.

  Either Dervit caught onto Keiron’s game or he just happened, by chance, to pick something the limbit didn’t consider worthy of concern. One way or another, Dervit’s response put an end to the discussion regarding superstitions.

  “That boy with those dogs? No, he has two large hounds to protect him from trouble, not bring him to it.”

  The trio reached the practice fields five minutes later, and Jahrra introduced Dervit to Pendric. The captain of the guard was as animated as ever, welcoming the limbit without so much as giving a single glance to his tail or ears.

  “I know exactly who to team you up with!” he barked. “Erron! Come over here!”

  A young boy, no older than seven, came jogging up, his leather armor far too big for him.

  “Erron, meet Dervit. Dervit, this is Erron, my son. He is a beginner as well.”

  Erron’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Dervit, but he politely shook his hand and offered him a wooden waster before leading him off to the children’s area.

  Pendric crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, his eyes shining with pride.

  “He has a kind and open heart, that boy of mine. Takes after his mother,” Pendric crowed.

  Jahrra gave him a sidelong gaze and felt her mouth quirk into a smile of her own. “I don’t know. I’d say he’s a lot like his father, too.”

  Jahrra had known Pendric not even a full two days, and she could already tell he was made of something far more superior than most people in this corrupt and dangerous world of theirs. He had true honor in his heart.

  “Oh, enough young lady, or you will make me blush! Now, shall I try pairing you up with someone a little more intimidating than the young lad here who is doing his utmost to impress you?”

  Jahrra felt her face flush, and Keiron said something crass to his friend, but Pendric chuckled and remarked, “In all seriousness, I think Jahrra could use a little bit of a challenge.”

  And so, for the next few days, Jahrra rotated between fighting Keiron and the other talented soldiers of Morivan’s guard. Some practices she lost, others she won. A few times, she and her challenger called a truce, neither one of them able to get past the other’s guard. Every day, Jahrra felt herself growing stronger, swifter, better. She learned a few new handy moves and taught her opponents some of her own tricks. And each day Dervit came with her, eager to train with Erron and his friends. It turned out that the young boy and his companions were fascinated by Dervit and gladly welcomed him in.

  “I’ll never be a fierce warrior like you, Jahrra,” he said on the walk home one day. “But, at least, I’ll know something if we ever find ourselves up against an enemy.”

  Jahrra nodded. He was right. But she disagreed with him about the whole fierce warrior part. Who could tell what the future held? He might one day prove to be the fiercest of them all. Just because he was small, did not mean he couldn’t fight with more heart than anyone else.

  During the nights, Jahrra and Dervit took up the ritual of playing Astral cards with Ellyesce. The elf was healing swiftly from his arrow wound, and although he had his own cabin across the lane, he always joined them around supper time.

  “It’s too lonely over there,” he’d claim.

  Jaax often watched their games through the door of Jahrra’s cabin, unless he was off attending to some business she wasn’t privy to. Jahrra wasn’t certain how he spent his days, but she figured they involved visits to Morivan’s fortress and keeping up appearances. Jaax had told her to be careful what she said around the regent, and now she was wondering if he was making an extra effort to flatter the obnoxious man in order to earn them more time in the safety of Cahrdyarein, as well as keep his curious questions away from Jahrra. Either way, she appreciated the sacrifice. It meant she could spend more time training with Keiron and Pendric.

  On the fifth day of their stay in Cahrdyarein, Jahrra, Dervit and Keiron made their usual hike up to the practice area after stopping in for a quick visit with Phrym and the other horses. Once on the training field, Jahrra went through her usual warm up (a quick sparring match that focused on repeated drills) with Keiron. When they were done, one of the soldiers who had tried every day, and failed, to get past Jahrra’s guard, approached her.

  “Not today, Graimes,” Pendric said, stepping forward as he pulled on a pair of leather gauntlets. One of the practice helmets was tucked under his arm and a blunted sword rested against his hip.

  Jahrra pulled up her own sparring mask and stared at him. “What’s going on?”

  Pendric gave her his brightest smile, but there was something predatory about it today.

  “Oh, someone just promised me a whole month’s salary if I could beat the human girl in a sparring match.”

  Jahrra felt her jaw drop open and the air rush from her lungs. Everyone within earshot started murmuring.

  “How much is a month’s salary worth?” she breathed.

  Pendric named the sum, and she squeaked. “Who on Ethoes would spend that much?!” she demanded, looking around the crowd as if the culprit would jump out and wave his hands at her.

  “Don’t know and don’t care,” Pendric said. “The offer was presented as an anonymous note, accompanied by a smaller sum to prove its validity. An extra month’s salary would pay for a fine new dress for my wife, with a little to spare. So, you must forgive me, Jahrra, for I intend to use all my skills during this bout.”

  The captain of the guard slipped his mask over his head with a swift movement and used his boot to flick his sword into his hand. That act alone had Jahrra questioning her ability to last even thirty seconds against him.

  Enough, Jahrra! Focus! Don’t let the details distract you. He’s an opponent like anyone else, her inner voice snapped.

  She quickly resettled her own helmet and lifted her sword in front of her, angling it across her body in a mid-guard. This was going to be a brutal fight.

  Pendric struck first with the speed of a snake, lunging and nearly landing a hit to the middle of her chest. Fortunately, Jahrra was fast, and she just barely made it out of range. Knowing full well he wouldn’t pause between attacks, Jahrra flung her sword over her head at an angle and caught his blade before it could come crashing down on her shoulder. She pushed away again, spinning to face him so that she might see the attack this time.

  “You do have great speed,” he mused, stepping away from her and dropping his own weapon back into a guard.

  The two of them occupied one of the largest circles, rotating around the center as they each studied the other, watching for signs of impending attack while also searching for an opening. All around them, a crowd had formed, soldiers and trainees finding an excuse to take a break so they could witness what would certainly prove to be the highlight of the day.

  Without warning, Pendric feinted left, then right, swinging his sword effortlessly. Each time, Jahrra barely managed to glance his blade away with hers. She gritted her teeth and refocused. He is just playing with me, she realized. He would wear her down and then show her what he was really made of. She let her mind wander just a bit, back to her lessons with Yaraa and Viornen from long ago. They had been so simplistic with their moves. Efficiency and speed. No need for the embellishments that some fighters liked to mix in with their sword play.

  “It’s a ruse to trick you into thinking they are far more skilled than they actually are,” Viornen had told her.

  “It takes very little to accomplish your end goal,” Yaraa, Viornen’s wife, had added. “The right moves to defeat any opponent are far simpler than you think.”

  Pendric swung again, and Jahrra had to counter with a low block, then immediately bring the sword up in front of her to deflect Pendric’s q
uick response. He didn’t stop there. He wound his sword around hers, but she was familiar with the move and dropped and rolled before he could angle his blade downward and stab her in the shoulder.

  Breathing heavily from the close call, Jahrra bounded back to her feet and faced Pendric again. Although he was using the overstated movements her trainers had warned her about, she was also certain that, unlike most soldiers, he knew how to be efficient.

  So, Jahrra, she told herself, don’t be surprised if one of his fancy moves results in his blade coming to rest against your neck.

  The captain of the guard came at her again, but this time she didn’t waste time with a simple block. She met his attack with her own, nearly getting off a tap to his upper arm as her sword slipped around his. This must have awoken the warrior in him, because Pendric answered back even more fiercely than before. Jahrra blocked his attack, then grabbed the middle of her sword with her left hand to prevent another attempt at cleaving her in two. As soon as his blade crashed against hers, she jerked her right shoulder around and shoved the pommel of her sword forward, pressing the right side of the cross guard into his neck. While his sword was still trapped against his body, Jahrra stepped forward with her left foot and placed her right leg behind his. Just as Pendric’s eyes grew wide with realization, she rotated to the left, the hilt of her sword acting as a hook to drag him to the ground. When he instinctually tried to take a step back, her leg got in the way. The captain of the guard crashed to the dirt as unceremoniously as a bag of potatoes falling from a cart. Jahrra quickly resettled her sword in her hand and managed to grab his as well. Before a crowd of thirty or more onlookers, Jahrra stood over Pendric with the blunted points of both their swords aimed at his neck.

  Not until an uproarious cheer cut through the air did she realize just how hard her heart was pounding; how rapidly she was breathing. Sweat that she hadn’t noticed before stung her eyes and ran down her neck. Pendric, she realized, was just as winded as she was, and to her delight, held up his hands, admitting his defeat.

  He wasn’t a small man, taller than her and broader, but with that neat trick she’d learned from Viornen so long ago, she had been able to take him down.

  “In all my years,” Pendric said gruffly, “never would I have guessed someone outside of these walls could have had such excellent training.”

  Jahrra shook her head, the aftereffects of her adrenaline rush, paired with the shouts and general clamor of the crowd, making it hard for her to focus.

  “May I rise now, Lady Jahrra?” the captain of the guard asked, showing her his palms and a chastened smile.

  Jahrra exhaled once and withdrew both the swords, casting them aside and reaching down to help him up.

  “Oh no, lass,” he said, rolling over to stand up on his own. “My weight would surely pull you down.”

  He didn’t sound angry, but there was definitely a disappointed lilt to his voice. Jahrra bit her lip and tried not to smile. She supposed she’d be sore for not winning a whole month’s salary as well.

  “I’m sorry you won’t get your prize now,” she muttered, pulling off the practice helmet.

  Pendric did the same and gave her an exasperated look. “Gods and goddesses above and below girl!” he roared. “Yes, the money would have been very pleasant, but it is my reputation and pride that took the brunt of it!”

  He gave her a quick grin and a wink. Jahrra smiled back in return.

  “One of the first rules I ever learned from my trainers,” she said, “was to never underestimate your opponent.”

  Jahrra cast her eyes around the immediate crowd and spotted Dervit, his brilliant red hair standing out like a banner. She waved at him, hoping he had heard her last words.

  “Yes, that’s another thing,” Pendric said, gesturing for Jahrra to follow him out of the practice ring so that the hot-blooded soldiers could use the momentum of the recent sparring match to get a good workout in. “Who trained you?”

  Jahrra took a breath to answer, and then remembered how her teachers had gone to a lot of trouble to hide themselves away in Oescienne. She didn’t think Pendric could, or would, ever pose a threat, but she also remembered what Jaax had said about minding her words while in Cahrdyarein.

  She bit her cheek and hooked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. Pendric was leading her back to the barrels and racks of practice equipment. A sign that they were done for the day. She was grateful. She didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t even sure if she could make it back to her cabin without assistance. She was definitely going to be sore in the morning.

  “Oh, some old retired sword instructors living in my hometown,” she said nonchalantly, hoping that would satisfy Pendric’s curiosity.

  It didn’t, which was apparent in the look he gave her, but he must have sensed her reluctance because all he did was nod.

  “They taught you very well,” he said.

  The captain of the guard took a breath to say something else, but his attention was caught by something over Jahrra’s shoulder.

  “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow, Miss Jahrra. Perhaps, I should be trying to talk you into training my men for me.”

  He winked at her again, then turned to walk away, limping slightly but whistling like a songbird in summer.

  Jahrra furrowed her brow, then turned around to see what had encouraged him to send her on her way. She was rather surprised to find her guardian standing in the shadow of one of the barracks buildings, his wings neatly folded against his back, his focus entirely on her. This was the first time she’d seen him before sundown, for every morning when she woke he was already gone. What was he doing hiding in the shadows along the edge of the practice field?

  Taking a breath through her nose, Jahrra turned back to look for Dervit. He, too, noticed the huge dragon sitting near the edge of the road. He hadn’t had a chance to practice yet, what with Pendric’s challenge, so she waved him on as Erron tugged at his sleeve. Dervit gave Jahrra a half smile and waved back before joining the young boy and his friends. Before turning back to Jaax, Jahrra looked for Keiron. She just wanted to let him know she would probably be walking home on her own, but he was nowhere to be found. Oh well. She could tell him where she’d gone in the morning. Or maybe Dervit would.

  Taking another breath, she moved forward, smiling at the young men and women standing around, waiting for their turn in the rings.

  “What are you doing here?” Jahrra asked when she reached Jaax.

  He gave her his characteristic smirk and said, “Thought I’d see what you’ve been up to while I’ve been busy keeping Morivan’s ego pacified. Are you heading back to the cabin?”

  Jahrra nodded. She had plans to grab a clean set of clothes and head off to the women’s bathing house at the end of their block. Now that she had a chance to catch her breath, she could almost feel every grain of dirt and patch of sweat on her skin.

  “I’ll walk with you part of the way. I need to do one more perimeter check before evening falls.”

  Jaax’s tone had grown harder, and Jahrra glanced up at him.

  “Have you detected anything?” she asked, worry tinging her voice.

  Jaax shook his head and let out a huff of breath. “No, but that’s the problem. The Red Flange just disappeared. I managed to wipe many of them out, but not all of them. And they couldn’t have fled so quickly. I suspect they are using their dark mages to work some magic against us, but I can’t tell what.”

  “Did you ask Ellyesce?” she pressed.

  Jaax nodded. “He’s been trying, but apparently the natural magic in the black stones of the wall is making it more difficult. It is such a primitive power in that dark granite, and it works on an entirely different level than the one Ellyesce uses.”

  Jahrra didn’t like the sound of that, but there was nothing she could do. Only hope that whatever the Crimson King had planned, his army wouldn’t be able to breach the wall.

  Ready for a change of subject, Jahrra cleared her throat
and asked, “So, were you surprised I won?”

  “Not at all,” her guardian answered matter-of-factly, pausing to let a flatbed cart carrying timber pass by. They had wound their way around a cluster of buildings and now waited to cross one of the city’s busier roads.

  Jahrra arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Really?” she said disbelievingly.

  Jaax cast her a sidelong glance and nodded. “Of course. I expected as much from the best fighter in Lidien.”

  Jahrra stood there for a few seconds, completely stunned. What did that mean?

  A break in the traffic gave Jaax the opening he was waiting for. He immediately stepped out onto the wide avenue and headed for an open patch of lawn growing between the space where two smaller roads met. Jahrra had to jog to catch up. It took her a bit longer to detect the barely contained humor in the lines of Jaax’s face.

  When it finally dawned upon her what his words meant, she felt the blood drain from her face. She stopped dead, almost getting run over by an elf cutting the corner with his horse. He shot her a rude remark but she didn’t hear him. The sound of the blood roaring in her ears was too loud.

  “How, how did you know?” she breathed.

  Jaax, who had slowed to a stop as well, studied the talons on his right front foot. “Please, Jahrra, I’m the leader of the Coalition, well, ex-leader. There wasn’t a soul living in Lidien who didn’t know who I was, or who you were. And so many of them loved to report to me what you were up to.”

  This time, she gasped out loud, anger suffusing her voice. “You spied on me?! Outside of the classroom! It was bad enough you coerced me into signing up for classes taught by Coalition members!”

  At that moment, Jahrra wanted nothing more than to walk right up to her guardian and kick him as hard as she could. He was so insufferable! But kicking a dragon would only result in a broken toe for her.

  “Jahrra,” he said, his tone sharp, “I did not spy on you. People saw what you were doing and regaled to me what a well-trained fighter you were. One day I decided to see for myself, so I came and watched you.”