by James Wisher
John charged, as they’d expected, hoping to use his size to overwhelm his smaller opponent. He swung with enough force that if the blow landed it would break bones, protective gear or not. Jax ducked under the slash and rolled behind John. Before the larger boy could recover his balance Jax popped up and stabbed him in the back.
“Stop,” Benson said. “The match is over, Jax wins. Return to your teams.”
Gabriel grinned. How many times had Xander use that exact move to take a match from him? Hopefully his brother was watching and took some amusement in Gabriel stealing one of his tricks.
“He cheated,” Big John said. “He didn’t fight like he was supposed to.”
“The dead don’t get to complain,” Benson said. “If this had been a real fight that blow would have severed your spine.”
Gabriel almost laughed. How many times had he said that to Father when Xander didn’t follow the dueling rules? Jax ran back to the group a huge smile on his face. “I did it, I did it. Just like you said Gabriel.”
Gabriel clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Good job. That’s one for us. Mick, that’s what you want to avoid.”
Benson stepped over closer to Gabriel. “Interesting strategy.”
“In the History of War it said when faced with a larger opponent nontraditional tactics are necessary. I think the author meant a larger army, but I figured it applied to this as well.”
“I can’t argue with your results.” He stepped back to the center of the ring. “Next contestants.”
The next two matches were a split, with Mick winning and Erin losing a close watch. Merrik stepped into the ring. “This is it,” Arthur said. “It’s all up to me. I don’t know if I can take it, Gabriel.”
“Relax, we can’t lose now. There’s no pressure on you.”
“No, if I blow it we tie instead of win.”
“Forget that and look over there.” Gabriel pointed to the side the ring where the masters had gathered. They smiled to themselves and looked pleased. “Remember, this was never about us winning, but proving we can fight no matter the odds. Just give it your best. You’ve worked hard and I know you can beat him.”
Arthur brought his chin up. “Damn right I can.”
He stepped into the ring and faced Merrik. “Begin.”
The two boys circled, neither anxious to make the first mistake. Merrik looked as nervous as Arthur, which brought a smiled to Gabriel’s face. Arthur blocked a pair of tentative thrusts then countered with a slash that Merrik just turned it aside. Merrik responded to the near miss with a furious assault as it seemed he finally realized he might lose. Gabriel's smile grew as Arthur knocked aside every blow.
After a second pass Gabriel picked up Merrik’s attack pattern. He went high, low, high thrust, left to right diagonal slash. He repeated the same pattern twice more before Arthur caught on. Instead of blocking the thrust he spun aside and drove his sword into Merrik’s gut with a reverse thrust.
“Match is over,” Benson said. “Arthur wins. Victory to the first years.”
Arthur ran back to a flurry of hugs and congratulations. Gabriel couldn’t have been more proud. They’d done it, even Erin looked happy.
“So you’re pathetic friends did your work for you.” Merrik tore off his padded helmet and tossed it into the crowd. “What’s the matter, don’t you have the nerve to get in the ring with me yourself?”
Gabriel looked back, one eyebrow raised. “Why bother? I’ve already beaten you once, that was enough.” Gabriel and the others started away from the ring to celebrate.
“You’re a coward, like your father!” Spit flew from Merrik’s mouth as he shouted.
Gabriel stopped, cold furry filling him. He turned slowly to face Merrik. “You want a fight? Have it your way. This beating will be my graduation present to you. A sword, please.”
All four of his teammates held their swords out, hilt first. He took Erin’s, it seemed only right that the only weapon not to win should be the one he used to kill Merrik. Gabriel wanted to kill Merrik, not beat him. He wanted to pound him until his brains ran out his ears and blood gushed from his mouth.
Sword in hand Gabriel stepped into the ring. He turned to Benson. “You can step back, sir. Only one of us will walk out of the ring.”
Benson took three steps back, out of the circle. Gabriel watched as understanding dawned on Merrik’s face. He also knew as well as Merrik that if he ran everyone would think him a coward. Gabriel moved his sword to low guard. “Well?”
Merrik’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow. He roared with as much fear as anger and launched a clumsy overhead slash. Gabriel stepped aside, letting Merrik’s sword swish past and hit the sand.
They went back and forth; Gabriel parrying Merrik’s best efforts with the same ease Master Zin blocked his attacks. To call their match a battle would have insulted the efforts of his team earlier. Gabriel played with Merrik, letting the older boy grow ever more desperate, sloppier. When a clumsy lunge breezed past him Gabriel decided he’d had enough. He brought his sword down on Merrik’s overextended hand, wood meet bone and bone lost. Merrik’s sword fell to the sand, his hand hung at a grotesque angle.
Merrik looked at Gabriel, eyes wide and scared. Gabriel brought his sword up and around to crash into the side of Merrik’s head. Merrik fell like a sledgehammer hit him. The right side of his face caved in. Gabriel kicked him twice in the ribs for good measure and tossed his sword away.
His anger faded away and he came back to himself. Everyone stared at him, his team, Merrik’s team, the other cadets, even the masters who rushed forward to see to Merrik. Exhaustion washed over him. He felt little satisfaction in his victory, it would have been no different if he’d beaten up a ten year old for all the chance Merrik had. Still, he felt certain no one would insult his father again, Merrik least of all.
Chapter 11
“Gabriel St. Jaques Kane,” Benson’s voice rang out through the auditorium.
Gabriel was the last of fifteen cadets to graduate in his class, the others, including his adopted brother, had talked their parents into letting them out early. The crowd cheered, none as loud as Arthur and the rest of the team, as he made his up to the podium where Benson stood. Benson handed him a ceremonial broadsword with a silver wrapped hilt and a phoenix engraved on the pommel. Each of his teammates had one similar though theirs were wrapped in copper rather than silver.
“Congratulations,” Benson shook his hand. “You’ve done a great thing here.”
Gabriel smiled. There were now fifteen students in special classes, studying the arts of war and personal combat. Something good came from his selfish desire to train like a real soldier. “Thank you, sir. It was an honor to study here.”
Benson turned back to the crowd. “Class dismissed.”
Everyone cheered even louder now that summer break was officially underway, and they thundered out of the auditorium like a herd of cattle. In minutes only Gabriel and his team remained.
“Our parents are waiting.” Erin hugged Gabriel. “Thanks for everything.”
Jax shook his hand and followed his sister out of the auditorium. He’d miss the twins, their parents estate was outside the city so he doubted he see much of the pair after today. Another two years training turned them into an absolutely lethal pair. He pitied anyone who had to face those two together or separately for that matter.
“I need to go too,” Mick said. The soft, nervous boy had grown into a bearded giant, the biggest man in their class, and the kindest. Mick seemed to remember what it was like getting picked on and went out of his way to protect the smaller kids. Gabriel shook his hand. “It’s been great, Gabriel. If you ever need anything…”
“Thanks, Mick, see you around.”
Arthur and Gabriel stood alone in the auditorium. “So what now?” Gabriel asked. “Off to the docks to celebrate?”
Arthur blushed. “I think I’ve outgrown that, thanks to you. I’m going to take Benson up on his offer to teach basic swordsmanship
to the first years. What about you?”
“Day after tomorrow I report to Watch headquarters to officially become the youngest lieutenant in their history. That should make me real popular with the veterans.”
Arthur grinned and they shook hands. “You should stop in next semester and talk to the students. I think they’d get a kick out of seeing you.”
“Sure, I’ll do that. See you later.” Gabriel left the auditorium. He walked through the bare gray halls. He wouldn’t miss the place exactly, but it had been his home for three years. It felt like he was leaving a bit of himself behind.
He stepped outside into a bright summer day. Uncle Duncan’s carriage waited for him just outside the gate. Gabriel smiled. They’d parked in the exact same spot as the day they arrived the three years ago. The footman held the door open for him and he climbed in. Duncan waited alone inside, not that he’d expected Morgrin or Aunt Jolie. They shared a hug.
“Congratulations,” Duncan said. “I understand you’ve made the academy something to be proud of again.”
Gabriel smiled. “I didn’t do that much. The others worked hard; I just gave them a push in the right direction.”
“You’re too modest. I spoke to Master Benson several times over the last three years. He says if not for you nothing would have happened.”
“I won’t argue, but my time is over. What happens now has nothing to do with me. They’ll have to build on what we started. I hope they do. I hope the academy becomes what it was when my father attended, something more than a nursery for noble brats.” Gabriel winced. “No offense.”
“None taken. Speaking of Morgrin, he and the rest of the family are looking forward to attending the graduation ball tonight. Nobles from all over the country will attend.”
Gabriel grimaced. “Maybe I’ll skip it. I doubt many of the nobles will be pleased to see me. I offended an awful lot of their kids over the last three years.”
Duncan shrugged it off. “It’s not like they sent their kids to the academy because they wanted them treated well. I think you’ll find a warmer welcome than you expect. Besides, and this is supposed to be a surprise, I have it on good authority they plan to honor your contribution to the school. You wouldn’t deny them the chance, would you?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Why does everything have to be a production? Can’t they just say, congratulations, have a nice life, and be done with it?”
“Doesn’t look that way. So you’ll go?”
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
“That’s the spirit. Your dress lieutenant’s uniform arrived yesterday. You should make quite an impression.”
Gabriel made no comment, his stomach already churning at the thought of having to make small talk with all those people. This wasn’t something they covered in his training; the closest thing he could think of was small group tactics. If he made it through the night without throwing up he’d consider it a success.
* * *
Gabriel had just time enough to get settled into his old room at the mansion, before he needed to get ready for the ball, which began at sunset. It was an old tradition, dating back over a hundred years. Now it was a social function more than anything, a chance for the nobles to dress up and talk, their two favorite pass times as far as Gabriel could see. Most of the nobles attending didn’t even have children in the academy. As lord of the city Duncan had to attend, not that anyone twisted his wrist.
Gabriel sighed and buckled on his ceremonial blade. It was a pretty sword, but the blade was too thin, and the balance stunk. Why couldn’t they make a pretty sword that was also functional? He looked himself over in the mirror, his blond hair cut short in military style, navy blue uniform sporting a lion on the shoulder, his lieutenant’s insignia, black boots polished to a mirror shine. He allowed that he looked pretty sharp.
Down stairs he found Uncle Duncan and Aunt Jolie waiting for him. Duncan had on his gray ceremonial robes of state and Jolie wore a dark green gown with a string of large black pearls. She looked less severe with her hair up in an elaborate style that no doubt made half a day’s work for one of the servants. Morgrin had yet to put in an appearance, in fact Gabriel hadn’t seen his adopted brother since he got home.
“The uniform suits you, Gabriel,” Duncan said.
“It feels right, like I was meant to wear it, you know?”
Duncan smiled. “If your father were here he’d be proud to see you wearing it. I certainly am.”
Morgrin chose that moment to appear. He had on a midnight blue tunic with silver trim and black leggings. Since he left the academy last year he’d let his hair grow out and it hung past his shoulders. He shot Gabriel a quick nod, more than he’d expected truth be told. “Are we ready?” Morgrin asked.
“Now that you’re here,” Jolie said. “The carriage is waiting.”
They went out and piled into the carriage, a torch burning at every corner. Once the coachman shut the door, the driver snapped his reins and they lurched forward. Unlike last time they weren’t bound for the academy, the plain gray building far too simple to host a noble party. Instead they headed two blocks east to the Grand Cathedral, the huge building was used for balls and important government matters, though most would argue the two were not dissimilar. He’d seen it from a distance and it looked impressive, he’d never been inside though.
They rode in silence for a few minutes then Gabriel said, “So what have you been up to this past year, Morgrin?”
“I’m working with a gem merchant, Alec Shazar.”
“Is it interesting?”
“Profitable,” Morgrin said.
“Tell me about it?”
“What do you care?” Morgrin said. “You’re too busy being a big shot at the academy.”
Before Gabriel could respond they stopped and Morgrin jumped out of the carriage, the footman didn’t even have time to open the door for him. Someone put a hand on his shoulder and he was surprised it was Aunt Jolie.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No, dear, it’s just that Morgrin likes to be the center of attention and tonight you’ll have that honor,” she said.
Gabriel stared at her. “He’s jealous? I didn’t ask to be the center of attention, I don’t even want to be, it just sort of happened.”
Duncan sighed. “That makes it even worse. You getting all this attention without seeking it bothers him more than anything.”
Gabriel groaned and climbed out of the carriage then reached back to offer his aunt a hand down. Once Duncan joined them he got to look around. Outside the cathedral he spotted at least a dozen carriages unloading well dressed nobles. He also spotted a score of Watchmen standing at attention, in pairs, at strategic locations all around the grounds.
Above them the cathedral loomed like a gothic mountain, its stained glass dome glittered in the dying sunlight. The building was constructed of the same gray stone as the academy, but where the school was strictly utilitarian, the cathedral was sheer beauty. Statues surrounded it and dozens of gargoyles lined to top of the walls. Liveried footmen held open doors made of stained glass. Gabriel stared at the intricate geometric designs as they passed through. How could someone make a door of glass? They didn’t seem useful, from a defensive standpoint.
Inside it was every bit as impressive as outside. The ceiling was at least two score feet above them, every inch covered in a detailed painting of a battle between angles and demons. The floor was of polished, black stone, and a fifty piece orchestra filled the air with soft music. Most impressive was the four hollow glass chandeliers filled with an alchemical substance that gave off a clear white light.
A couple dozen nobles and their families glided around the room chatting and eating hors d’oeuvres. Several spotted them as they entered and started over.
“I should go, Uncle Duncan. Those people won’t want me around while you talk.”
Duncan laid a hand on his shoulder, preventing is escape. “Nonsense, if you’re going to be a member of the Watch you
’ll have to work with the nobles on occasion. I’ll introduce you to a few of them. At the least you should meet Duke Cariden.”
Gabriel tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Duke Cariden was Duncan’s superior and ruled over territory that included Lord’s Way and four other cities of similar size as well as innumerable small villages and towns. Father met him once, when he received his knighthood.
“Gabriel,” Duncan drew Gabriel’s attention back to a tall, slight gentleman of uncertain age standing before them. “This is Count Bjorn Hanson. He rules one of the northern provinces, right on the edge of ice barbarian territory.”
Gabriel plastered a smile on his face and shook the man’s limp hand, a hand that sported enough gold and jewels to support a good sized town for a year. “I imagine you see quite a bit of action being so close to the border, sir.”
The count sniffed. “A bit more than I care for, truth be told. I understand that thanks to you we’ll be getting some new blood in the military. That will be welcome.”
“I just got the ball rolling, sir. The masters of the academy did the real work.”
The count nodded. “Good evening, young man. Duncan.”
Gabriel watched him pussyfooting through the crowd. “I can’t imagine he’d last long in a barbarian invasion.”
Duncan chuckled and steered him deeper into the room. Aunt Jolie had slipped off and joined a group of ladies chatting by the snack table; though considering how skinny they were he guessed they didn’t eat more than a cookie between them.
“Bjorn’s a descent fellow, but not a warrior like his father.”
The parade of well-wishers lasted far too long to suit Gabriel, but he kept his smile and managed not stab anyone. When a hush fell over the crowd he reached for his sword, but all eyes were on a gray-bearded nobleman in crimson robes making his way toward them. The only hint of wealth he carried was a staff made in the image of a golden cobra with rubies for eyes. When he arrived Duncan bowed deeply and Gabriel followed suit.
“Lord Cariden please allow me to introduce my adopted son, Gabriel. Gabriel this is Duke Hayden Cariden.”
