“If you wish,” she responded with a shrug. “I won’t stop you.”
He smiled, and Quinn decided he had a nice smile.
After setting his bowl and mug on the table, he held his hand out toward her. “I’m Ikonis. My friends call me Iko.”
She pulled her hand from beneath the table and shook his. “Call me, Quinn.”
Iko sat and began poking his meat pie, steam rising from where he pierced the crust. “I’m first-year, so today’s my first day here. How about you?”
“Same.”
“Where are you from?”
Quinn considered the harm in responding, but not finding any. “Hurnsdom. I grew up in Cinti Mor.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s a good distance away. When did you leave?”
“A couple weeks back.”
Iko hesitated before he spoke again. “Are things still good in Cinti Mor?”
Quinn shrugged. “I’m not sure. The city was attacked while we were leaving.”
Her thoughts shifted to the friends she had left behind. She said a silent prayer to Issal for them.
Iko appeared surprised. “Attacked? Attacked by whom?”
“Vinacci soldiers.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yes. At least they wore Vinacci uniforms.”
“I can’t believe it.” He shook his head. “Why would they do such a thing?”
“I…don’t know.”
“I’m sorry, Quinn. I hope your parents are safe and well.”
She snorted. “They were fine when I left them this morning.” When his brow furrowed, she added, “They moved to Fallbrandt to be close to me and my brother.”
“How fortuitous.”
Iko took a bite of his food while Quinn looked around the room. Tables of boys and girls surrounded them, their busy conversations filling the room. She then noticed another table that was empty but for a single girl. Focused on her food, the girl had dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin. There was an exotic nature to the girl and odd markings covered the upper portion of one arm. Quinn frowned upon noticing the body art, unused to seeing it save for a rune that often marked people’s forehead.
“Tantarri.”
Quinn turned toward Iko. “What?”
He bobbed his head toward the girl sitting alone. “That girl. She’s Tantarri.”
“What do you know of them?”
Iko shrugged. “They are a race of savages. They live in the wild, east of here. Body art and other oddities are commonplace to them.”
Quinn glanced toward the girl again and felt a string tug at her heart, urging her to go over and say hello.
“I can’t believe they allow Tantarri here,” Iko muttered.
She turned toward Iko and found him frowning.
“They believe in false gods, and they refuse to follow the word of Issal.”
She turned back toward the girl as she considered his words. Thoughts of introducing herself to the girl dissipated, but Quinn’s curiosity remained.
11
Dangerous Weapons
Simone’s leg lashed out, and Quinn dodged the kick with a twist of her body. She lunged with a punch, but Simone blocked it with a forearm swipe. The other girl kicked again, her knee connecting with Quinn’s ribs, forcing her backward with a grunt.
Quinn held her hand to her side and stared at her opponent. Simone’s face appeared emotionless, her eyes measuring Quinn. The two were of a similar size, but as a second-year cadet, Simone had training that Quinn lacked.
Ignoring the pain from her ribs, Quinn raised her hands before her and reset her stance, mirroring her opponent. They both eased forward, and Simone threw a jab toward Quinn, who slapped it away. Another jab lashed out, and Quinn dodged it before throwing a counterpunch that missed when Simone spun away. The girl ducked with her spin, and her leg thrust out behind her, striking Quinn’s midriff. Quinn doubled over, and Simone’s fist smashed into her temple. The world spun and Quinn found herself on her hands and knees.
She blinked and rose to her feet, turning toward Simone in anger.
“Match,” Sergeant Jasmine called out.
Quinn turned toward her. “I’m not done. I can win.”
Jasmine’s brow rose.
“Um…Sergeant,” Quinn added.
“She had you beat, Quinn.” The woman shook her head. “You can try again another day.”
Despite the urge to do otherwise, Quinn pressed her lips together and said nothing more. After six weeks of hand-fighting training and duels twice a week, she had yet to win. The frustration inside her was unbearable.
“Take positions!” Jasmine shouted.
The girls, forty in all, lined up along the arena floor in two rows – second-year cadets in front, first-year students in the rear.
With her hands clasped behind her back, the woman paced along the line as her dark, almond-shaped eyes measured the students before her.
“It is time to move beyond hand fighting.” Jasmine waved a hand in the air. Her two assistants, Vi and Lissa, opened the doors at the far end of the arena to expose a room below the stands. “You will each be provided training weapons, something that best suits your physique and skillset.” As she spoke, her assistants each pushed a cart filled with wooden weapons onto the dirt floor of the Arena. “Second-year cadets, you already know your weapon set. Remain in line and advance to the cart on the left where Soldier Vi is waiting. Tell her what you need and get yourself armed.”
Led by Darnya, who stood at one end of the line, the second-year cadets jogged over to the cart and began to request their training weapons.
Jasmine turned toward the first-year students, addressing them. “Come along. Let’s get you outfitted as well.”
She then led the students to the other cart, where Lissa waited. Jasmine picked out a wooden longsword and shield and handed it to the first girl. The second received a quarterstaff. The third, a short sword and shield.
When Quinn reached the front of the line, the sergeant held a quarterstaff out toward her. Rather than accept it, Quinn stared at it for a long moment.
“What are you waiting for, Cadet?”
“Which weapon set is the most dangerous, Sergeant?”
“What?”
Quinn’s eyes locked with Jasmine’s hard gaze. “The weapon set that best suits me is the one that is most dangerous.”
The sergeant’s eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. After a moment, she replaced the staff into the rack on the cart, grabbed two short swords, and held them out to Quinn.
“While being the most dangerous, you best be aware that fighting with dual blades also provides the least defense.”
Quinn shrugged as she accepted the wooden swords. “I won’t have to defend myself if they’re dead, Sergeant.”
With her training weapons safely stored and her body bathed, Quinn set off to grab dinner. As she strolled down the windowless corridor, lit by the glowing beams above, she contemplated a plan.
For the safety of students, the Coliseum and sparring areas were off limits in the evenings. However, she wanted to become an expert with her weapons as soon as possible. Based on her experience with hand fighting, that only came with practice. Her natural quickness and agility would help, but skill required something more in battles when her life was on the line.
The subject occupied her mind as she entered the mess hall, passed through the kitchen, and sat at an open table. She had a mouth full of grilled fish when movement in the periphery caught her attention. She turned and found Iko approaching, tall and handsome and grinning. Beside him was a slightly shorter boy with brown hair, green eyes, and a similar build.
“Hello, Quinn.”
She swallowed. “Iko. Hi…how are you?”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Iko gestured toward the boy beside him. “This is my friend, Percilus.”
The other boy’s brow furrowed, and Quinn noticed his rune, the same as Iko’s. “But nobody calls me that.” He tu
rned toward Quinn and smiled. “I’m Percy. It’s great to meet you, Quinn.”
Quinn nodded. “Hi, Percy.”
“We got our weapons today,” Iko said.
“Us, too,” she replied.
“I went with a longsword and shield.”
“Classic combination. You’re tall enough for it, too,” she noted.
Iko grinned. “My thoughts as well.”
“I chose a quarterstaff,” Percy said. “However, the longbow is my first choice.”
Iko laughed. “No doubt.” He leaned closer. “You should see him shoot. Percy’s adopted father is a hunter.” Iko thumbed toward Percy. “He learned some serious skills from that man. The art of the longbow is just one of many.”
The mention of Percy’s adoption steered Quinn’s thoughts toward Everson. She fell silent, thinking about her brother and wondering how he fared at his school. It would be weeks yet before she would be allowed time off so she could see him.
There is nothing you can do about it, she told herself. Don’t forget why you are here. Focus on your training and time will pass quickly enough.
Iko gave a nod. “I’ll see you in the morning, Quinn.”
She stared at both boys with a furrowed brow. “What?”
“Tactics training begins tomorrow. While Seventh Day remains a day of rest, we’ll be spending half the day in a classroom – first-year students in the morning, second-year’s in the afternoon. I’ll see you there.”
A nod was Quinn’s only response.
“Bye, Quinn,” Percy said as he turned away.
Iko gave her a smile before turning and following his friend. Quinn’s thoughts turned to the aforementioned Tactics class, wondering what it involved.
“As you can see, by positioning themselves along the edge of the upper plateau, the human army was able to gain a distinct advantage.”
Tactics Master Trijia pointed at the center of the oversized map secured to the wall as she spoke. Scarred on one side of her face and sporting short-cropped golden hair, she had the look of a soldier who had seen her share of combat.
“The cliff walls that stood over the lower plains enabled them to fire projectiles down upon The Horde. The narrow slope that connected the lower plains to the plateau acted like a funnel. Despite vastly superior numbers, The Horde could only attack with a portion of their army at a time.”
She turned to the class, striding toward the students seated in a half-circle that faced her. Quinn sat in the third row, two steps above the classroom floor. All eyes were on Trijia, the cadets listening intently.
“The Battle at the Brink is just one of many conflicts we will study over the course of the year. As you can see from this example, entering a battle with a competent strategy can compensate for deficiencies and provide a tactical advantage, especially if you can neutralize key strengths of your opponent. Please note that pre-planning will only get you so far. You must also consider all possible responses from your opponent, ensuring you have a counter-strategy for each. Even then, success on the battlefield requires the ability to adjust on the fly. Battles are unpredictable. If you cannot display tactical agility when the unforeseen arises, even the most brilliant battle strategy can result in defeat.”
Trijia spun about and sauntered toward a nearby table. A map painted on a board sat on the table. Overlaying the map was a grid consisting of hundreds of cells. Wooden figures, about five inches tall, stood upon the board, half of which were dyed blue, the other half black. Each piece had a small rod jutting up from the top. Some had two yellow disks on the rod, others held five, and one piece on each team held a stack of ten.
“On this table is a game called Ratio Bellicus. You’ll note that each game piece includes disks that represent their remaining life. The Captain of your army is the one with ten disks. The game features various other types of pieces, each possessing a military unit and applicable attributes.
“Cavalry units can move five spaces per turn, but they are vulnerable to archers at a distance and infantry pikemen at close range. Foot soldiers, armed with swords and shields, possess effective melee attacks and have inherent defensive advantages against archers but are susceptible to cavalry unit attacks. Arcanists can wield powerful ranged attacks or can empower fellow warriors, turning them into killing weapons for a short time. Note that the use of magic renders the arcanist useless for five turns, leaving that unit unable to move or counterattack. Each team has two ecclesiast units, able to restore life disks to any game piece that hasn’t been eliminated. In addition, each game piece has an element unknown to your opponent.” She picked up a piece and showed the bottom to the classroom, revealing a small cavity. “A black disk can be inserted in this opening, turning one unit into an assassin – a piece that can kill the opposing Captain with one hit despite the ten health disks that accompany that piece.
“The game board comes with terrain markings, limiting how you can move the pieces. The board before you is marked differently than the one in the Cadet lounge, for each board is unique.
“Taking turns, you move one piece at a time to position your units and take out enemy forces. If your Captain dies, you lose. If all of your pieces are eliminated, you lose.
“The intent of this game is to develop your thinking as you consider different strategies and respond tactically to your opponent’s moves.”
Quinn chewed her lip as she stared at the game board, eager to play. She was determined to learn the game and found herself wishing Everson could play with her. If anyone could master the game, it would be him. With that thought in mind, she decided to seek out the most challenging opponent and play until she won.
12
Fame
A shiver shook Everson, and his teeth chattered. He heard hushed whispers pass between two of his captors as he tried to reason through his situation. Why did they kidnap me? Why are they asking these questions? What are they after?
Cold and thirsty, he found himself wishing for a hot cup of caffe and a nice, warm bed.
“Everson.” Hearing his name, he tried to look toward the man speaking, or at least toward his silhouette. “How did you meet Jonah Selbin? We would know of your interactions with him.”
“Well…as I explained, Quinn and I set out from Fallbrandt early that morning. She walked me to my school, although it was two miles beyond her destination.”
Everson’s eyes drifted toward the floor as he recalled their discussion. “I told her I would be fine traveling there on my own, but she wouldn’t have it. That’s how Quinn is. She puts others before herself. Besides, I knew there would be no changing her mind.” He shook his head. “You’ll have better luck moving a mountain than getting my sister to veer off course once her mind is set.
“I met Jonah just moments after Quinn left me. At the time, I had no idea what the future held, or who Jonah really was…”
Everson watched Quinn run down the long gravel road, passing through the long morning shadows cast by the trees that lined it. Beyond the trees, far across the massive lawn, stood the sister school – Quinn’s new home. Yes, she would be close, but he wouldn’t see her for weeks if not longer. For the first time in his life, he was alone. His heart fluttered and his stomach roiled in a moment of panic. He closed his eyes and took a long calming breath. With a clear mind, Everson extended his senses.
Birds chirped in the distance, the chatter of nature. Morning sunlight warmed his face, cooled by the soft mountain breeze. His nose caught the hint of a sweet bouquet floating past. When he opened his eyes, he noticed purple wildflowers swaying in the fields to the west. Beyond the fields, dark trees bordered the lawn – the edge of a thick forest that ran up the sides of the surrounding white-capped mountains. As he drank in the harmony of nature’s embrace, the tranquility of the moment settled his nerves and warmed his heart. All right. I’m ready.
He turned and shifted both canes to one hand as he opened the door. Moving quickly, he grabbed a cane with his free hand and used it as a doorstop. Be
yond the doorway, he found a short line of students, all of whom had passed him during his journey to the school. He shuffled inside and let the door close behind him as he surveyed his surroundings.
The students in line were talking amongst one another, their voices echoing off walls standing over one hundred feet apart. An upward glance revealed a high ceiling supported by two rows of brick pillars that interrupted the otherwise open space. Rows of doors dotted the interior walls, and dark railings lined two terraced levels that overlooked the hall.
Everson shuffled forward when the line advanced a stride. A teen glanced back at him and whispered to his neighbor. Everson turned away, feeling self-conscious. The door behind him burst open, a boy darting inside and slowing as he reached the back of the line.
With a mess of strawberry blond hair, freckles, and green eyes, the boy leaned forward with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Odd. I don’t recall seeing anyone on the road besides Quinn. The other boy stood upright, a bit taller than Everson.
“Whew. I was afraid I was late.”
Everson glanced away, deciding if he should respond. Finally, he forced himself to speak.
“You’re not late…at least, I don’t think you are.”
“Good.” The boy smiled and held his hand out. “My name is Jonah. And you are…”
Everson stared at the boy’s hand and bit his lip. “I’m…Everson.” He shifted both canes to his left hand and shook Jonah’s hand.
“I overslept, so I ran all the way here.” Jonah gasped for air. “I only arrived in Fallbrandt last night, and I was pretty exhausted from the journey.”
Curiosity flickered inside Everson. “Where are you from?”
“Nor Torin.”
Everson imagined the map he had reviewed before traveling to Fallbrandt, recalling the image in his head. In his mind, he pictured Nor Torin along the northern portion of the west coast of Torinland. He quickly calculated the distance.
A Warden's Purpose (Wardens of Issalia Book 1) Page 9
