Guardians of Magessa (The Birthright Chronicles Book 1)

by Peter Last

  Senndra rolled over once the pressure was relieved and climbed to her feet. With a deft move, she pushed her sword into its scabbard, took off her helmet, and turned to face the only person who had been able to defeat her. He had also taken off his helmet and revealed his features. Though Senndra had estimated him to be at least eighteen, she took one look at his face and decided that he couldn’t be more than fifteen. He had short, red hair, but the thing that held her gaze the most were his eyes. He had red eyes—not as though he hadn’t gotten enough sleep or what would come from crying, but truly red eyes. A red circle, instead of a blue, green, or brown one, stretched around his pupil, making his eyes quite unnerving. Senndra shook his hand again then pulled her sword out and saluted the crowd. Timothy did so as well, and the cadets in the stands went wild. Senndra and Timothy slowly let their salutes fall and headed back for the contestant box. In that moment, Senndra knew that she had gained a friend for life.

  ******

  Josiah stood out in front of the ranks of his soldiers. One thousand cadets were in perfect formation, waiting for inspection. Josiah could tell that the sun was already bothering them, but they were doing their best not to show it. A commotion came from behind, so he turned around. Approaching him was the grand admiral of the academy, along with several other high ranking officers.

  Josiah turned to his troops. “Attention!” he called, and immediately the cadets became even straighter than they had been before. Josiah spun around to face the approaching officers and saluted them. The officers lost no time covering the remaining distance. They returned Josiah’s salute, and as they passed, Josiah fell in behind them. The officers came to a halt only a few yards from the first rank of cadets, and their eyes slowly traveled up and down the rows looking for flaws. Several minutes passed as they scrutinized the cadets before them, then the grand admiral turned to Josiah.

  “Your troops are again in perfect order, Commander Pondran,” he told Josiah. “You will receive your instructions in short order, so don’t let your men get too comfortable.” Without another word, he turned and began to walk away. One of the officers following the grand admiral paused when he reached Josiah. He pulled several pages from a binder and handed them to Josiah.

  “Here are your orders, Commander Pondran.” Though the words were nothing out of the ordinary, the tone revealed that the speaker would have been happy if Josiah had dropped dead where he stood.

  “Thank you, Superior Officer,” Josiah responded in a monotone. For the life of him, he could not figure out why the man hated him so much, but he wanted no trouble.

  “And you had better have the barracks ready by inspection,” the superior officer said in a threatening tone. “If I find so much as a splinter out of place, I’ll have you busted down to a basic infantryman in no time.”

  “Yes sir, Superior Officer,” Josiah answered, though he had to bite back several angry retorts. He had serious doubts that the officer could bust him down, especially that low, but he didn’t want to test the theory. The superior officer stalked off, and Josiah turned back to his soldiers.

  “At ease,” he ordered. He waited for the soldiers to relax a little before continuing. “You heard the grand admiral. We have a list of things we need to do between now and when the students from the academy in Belvárd come, which is…” he looked down at the paper in his hands, “…in two days. Actually less than that,” he corrected himself. “They are supposed to be arriving sometime tomorrow. Your captains will instruct you as to what your duties will be. You are dismissed for now.”

  The cadets began to break formation and head into the barracks to change from their uniforms. Five of the cadets, one for every two hundred, approached Josiah, and he led them into a small office at the front of the building. He slid into a chair behind a small, battered desk, and the five captains entered the room and stood in front of the desk, the last one closing the door as he entered.

  Josiah looked down at the list of assignments and sighed. He was almost positive the officer had given his cadets the most work, but he wasn’t going to complain. Instead, he began to mentally divide it up between his five captains.

  “Well, looks like Cirro really is going to get to plant flowers along twenty miles of road,” he thought sourly. He grabbed some paper from a lower drawer of his desk and began to write on five sheets. Divided up into five parts, the work load appeared lighter, but the cadets would still have to work hard in order to finish it. He finished transferring the assignments and handed the five sheets to his captains. The men saluted, then turned and left.

  Josiah sighed and rose to his feet. He would have to supervise the men and would probably put in a good amount of work himself. He waited for four groups of the cadets to leave the barracks then left his office. The captain in charge of the men who remained in the barracks approached Josiah.

  “Well, Terza, let’s get this show on the road,” Josiah told the captain. “To start, remake all the beds with military precision. After that, I want every single bed checked to make sure it is perfect. Next, I want you to get some sandpaper and rub down all of the bedframes. I don’t know if that commander can actually do what he threatens, but I’m not planning on finding out. After you do that, I want every inch of this barracks swept, dusted, and polished. Wash down the walls and everything else that isn’t perfectly clean. Once you have all that done, let me know, and I’ll come look at it and see if there is anything else I want done. Oh yeah, one other thing—work well, but quickly. This barracks needs to be done for inspection; that should happen shortly after lunch. It wouldn’t hurt to have it done before that because, knowing my superior, he will drop in early.”

  “Yes sir, Commander Pondran,” the captain said and saluted. “Everything will be done as you ordered.”

  “Good. I’ll be back in a few hours to see how things are progressing.”

  Josiah turned and walked out of the barracks and headed for the buildings on the north side of the campus. Cadets swarmed the streets as they hurried to prepare the grounds for the arrival of the cadets from the academy in Belvárd. Several hundred cadets, all obviously under the same captain, washed and painted several buildings and tried to bring them to perfection by the following day. Cadets also swarmed the roads, planting flowers and pruning the shrubs that already existed. Several trees that had been judged to be too closely spaced were dug out and new trees had been planted. As Josiah watched, the old trees were cut up into pieces and taken to the campus wood pile. Through the windows of several buildings, Josiah could see cadets sweeping, mopping, dusting, and painting the insides of the buildings. Josiah shook his head and again wondered why the campus officials found it necessary to wait until the day before the Belvárd cadets’ arrival to do everything. He finally found his troops and stopped to examine their work. One squad was working on the outsides of seven buildings. They had constructed some temporary scaffolding and were crawling all over it in order to wash the outside of the buildings and repaint them. Another squad of cadets had been divided into several smaller groups, each of which was responsible for cleaning the inside of a building. Josiah approached the working cadets and began to look for his captains. He saw one examining the paint on one of the buildings and made his way toward him.

  “Morning, Stanslaw,” Josiah greeted the agitated captain. Stanslaw turned and saluted, and Josiah returned the salute.

  “Good morning, Commander Pondran,” Stanslaw responded.

  “How’s everything coming along?” Josiah asked as his eyes roamed the buildings.

  “Pretty good so far, Commander,” Stanslaw answered. “We started off with some problems, but they have been taken care of, and we’re working quite well and efficiently now. I estimate that we’ll be done with our assigned work by the end of today at the latest.”

  “Good,” Josiah answered. “Keep that schedule if possible, and if you get done early, tell me. I’ll probably have something else for you to do.”

  Stanslaw saluted and, after Josiah
returned the salute, he turned back to supervising the work. Josiah turned and walked toward the east end of the campus. Along the main road, a squad of his troops was planting flowers, pruning bushes and trees, and replacing trees when necessary. Josiah headed straight for the captain, who saluted him, and he returned the salute.

  “What’s the situation, Yugart?” he asked.

  “We’re coming along great so far, Commander,” Yugart answered. “I split my squad up into several smaller groups and each is covering a road. This group,” Yugart gestured to the cadets in front of him, “is one of the larger ones, so they’re covering the main road. I’ve got messengers going to each of the other groups to bring reports, and so far they’re all making good time.”

  “Commander Pondran?” The call came from down the road to the west, so Josiah turned to see a group of several officers making their way toward him.

  “Yes?” Josiah answered. “What is it?”

  “More orders, Commander,” a superior officer from the group answered. “These are jobs that never got assigned to anyone.” An officer advanced and handed a sheet of paper to Josiah.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll see to this immediately,” Josiah said as he glanced across the sheet. The officers saluted, then turned and left. Josiah saluted their backs and turned to Yugart.

  “I’m going to need about five men, Yugart.”

  “Very good, sir,” Yugart said. “It will probably be best for you to pick five from this group so that you can be off to do what needs to be done.”

  “Very well; I think I will.” Josiah saw that Yugart forwent the salute, but didn’t argue the fact. The morning was already getting tedious with all the salutes. Instead, he turned to the west and headed down the road.

  “Cadet Cirro,” he called as he passed a group of cadets pruning some trees. “Bring your tools and choose four more cadets.” When Cirro and his detail reached him he added, “Let's go. We've got a lot of work to do and time's wasting.”

  ******

  Senndra groaned and rolled out of bed. Her body throbbed and ached with every movement, and she knew that she would regret last night’s tournament for quite a while. Still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she grabbed her uniform and stumbled down the hall to the showers. She found only one stall open and took it. For some unknown reason, the thought of first-year cadets popped into her head. They were the ones that had to get up before everyone else and pump water up to the top of the building. That way, when the cadets used the showers, they simply controlled the flow of water from a tank down to the showers.

  The water was cold, so Senndra didn’t linger. After she finished, she headed down to her room. The only thing scheduled for today was an awards ceremony, during which several people would be recognized, including cadet of the year, best swordsman of the year, and many others. There were no classes today, so Senndra planned to relax in her room and read a book. She pushed the door of her room open and glanced at Rita. She was still sleeping in her bed, and it looked like it would take quite a bit to wake her. Senndra switched her gaze to Feddir and saw that he was still asleep as well. She grabbed a bag from the cupboard and poured a small amount of the contents into a bowl that sat next to her sleeping dragon. According to Miss Farley, this was the best thing to feed young dragons, but Senndra still grimaced as she saw what looked like dried beetles and meat. She placed the bag back in the cupboard and turned to the single bookshelf in the room. As she did so, she caught sight of her weapons hanging on the back of a chair.

  “Lemin’s class!” she gasped. In the excitement of last night, she had forgotten that Lemin was planning on having class today. Quickly, she grabbed her sword from the quiver, slid it into its regular sheath, and headed out the door. She strapped on the weapon as she ran down the hall and burst into the stairwell at a sprint. She took the stairs two at a time, and exploded out of the dorm at full speed. Glancing at the sun, she guessed that Lemin’s class was probably only half over, so she might not get in too much trouble. Actually, if she knew Lemin correctly, she wouldn’t get in any trouble at all, but she didn’t want to disappoint her teacher. After all, he seemed to have his heart set on fighting her today.

  Senndra sprinted up the path that led to the fighting arena and didn’t slow down until she had almost reached it. With one more bend to go, she slowed to a walk and strode into the arena. Lemin was sparring with another cadet, so she entered the stands and sat with the other cadets that were there. The crowd was much larger than normal, and for some reason, it felt to Senndra that everyone was looking straight at her. She tried to shake the feeling and watched the cadet that was currently in the arena with Lemin. She noticed that while he guarded himself well, he was clearly outclassed by the instructor. The fight lasted another twenty seconds, in which time Lemin managed to successfully strip the sword from his opponent. The cadet retrieved his sword and left the arena even as the next one entered. This cadet carried himself better than his predecessor, but when he moved to engage Lemin, Senndra saw that he, too, was severely outclassed by the instructor. As the battle began, another cadet moved to sit by Senndra. She turned to see Timothy and was again unnerved by his eyes. She wondered exactly what had caused that phenomenon.

  “I never found out last night…so, what’s your name?” Timothy asked.

  “Senndra,” she stammered. Despite the fact that his eyes were unusual, Timothy was quite handsome. She had never been good around other people, much less good-looking men, and now her tongue seemed to tie itself in knots.

  “You did well yesterday,” Timothy commented, glancing at the two combatants in the arena. Lemin was toying with the cadet, and they both knew it. As a result, the cadet was getting increasingly frustrated.

  “Thank you,” Senndra responded. “Apparently you did better,” she added with a laugh.

  “I may have won the contest,” Timothy said, “but I’m not the one that everyone is talking about. The fact that you beat your first opponent in under a minute is amazing. You even broke a record by defeating him in less than forty-seven seconds, but that isn’t what people are talking about. You finished the bout in exactly eighteen seconds, which is phenomenal. I don’t even think Lemin has beaten someone that quickly before. Anyway, a lot of the cadets,” Timothy gestured to the crowd in the stands, “including myself, showed up today to watch you spar with Lemin. You’re the person with the best chance of beating him, and they want to be here to see it happen.”

  “Well, it’s very nice of them to think that,” Senndra stammered, “and I want to believe them, but I don’t think they’re correct. Besides, aren’t you the one with the best chance of beating Lemin? After all, you did win the contest.”

  “Doesn’t matter to them,” Timothy answered. “They think you’ll beat him, and the only way they’ll believe otherwise is if you get out there and lose to him. Besides that, you definitely have some advantages that I do not. After all, you consistently beat your opponents in very little time. I have never before beaten anyone as quickly as you have. Who knows, perhaps that will give you the edge that you need to win today.

  "Oh, and one other thing," Timothy said. "You had me on the ground last night and didn't press the advantage. Why not?”

  “That was only fair,” Senndra argued. “Anyone with any decency would have done the same.”

  “Well then, a lot of people I know and a lot that I don’t know have no decency. They openly admit that they would have taken advantage of the situation and ended the fight,” Timothy answered.

  The statement left Senndra speechless, and she turned back to watch the activity in the arena. There was a new cadet fighting Lemin now, and he was faring no better than any of the other cadets that Senndra had seen previously. With a well-aimed slash, Lemin swung at the cadet’s legs, but pulled his blade up at the end of the stroke and pressed the point against the cadet’s throat. As the cadet left the arena, Lemin scanned the crowd until his gaze fell on Senndra. Lifting his hand, he beckoned for her to come. Slowly, she
got to her feet and began to descend toward the battlefield. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rita arriving at the arena. She appeared breathless, as though she had run the whole way, but Senndra didn’t think about it. Instead, she focused on Lemin and carefully scanned his body. He didn’t appear to be exhausted in the least, nor was he even sweating. That was good; Senndra didn’t want to beat him and then have it attributed to the fact that he was tired. She laughed to herself; now she actually thought that she had a chance against the elf? It was amazing the thoughts that a lot of delusional spectators could put into her head. She reached the ground and hopped over the fence that enclosed the arena. She crossed the distance between herself and her instructor and slid her sword from its scabbard.

  “Amazing what a lot of people will convince themselves of,” she said and gestured to the cadets in the stands.

  “It’s nothing special,” Lemin responded. “Every year they do the same for the cadet who wins the tournament, but this year it’s different. I guess they think you really have a chance of beating me. Not that I’m worried,” he added with a grin.

  “I don’t need to let you rest or anything, do I?” Senndra asked. “I’d hate to beat you and then have it brushed aside due to a technicality.”

  “If you beat me,” Lemin said, “then I will give you full credit. As it is, I’m not even winded.” He raised his sword. “On guard.”

  Senndra raised her sword and began to slowly circle Lemin. As she watched him move, the first principle of sword fighting popped into her head. Always attack first. Without warning, she leaped forward, with her sword held out, and caught Lemin’s blade on her own. She brought the hilt of her sword up in order to hit Lemin’s head with it, but he dove sideways away from her. He jumped to his feet and attacked so suddenly that Senndra barely had time to duck. She waited for him to fly over her head before she stood and swung around, her sword extended. The flat end hit him on the shoulder and sent him spinning away. Senndra quickly capitalized on her advantage and crowded Lemin. She raised her sword and brought it down for a stroke that was meant to end the match, but the instructor managed to get his weapon up just in time. He blocked Senndra’s blow and returned with one of his own. She spun away from the strike and ended up backwards to her opponent. Instinctively, she guessed what his next move would be and swung her sword around behind her back. She heard the sound of metal on metal as she spun around. Lemin raised his sword for another blow, and Senndra raised her sword in a defensive gesture. The blow came down with such force that it slammed Senndra’s sword sideways, almost wrenching it from her grip. Pain stabbed through Senndra’s wrist, and she knew right away that her right arm was practically useless. Lemin swung another blow, but this time Senndra had no weapon to stop it. Instead, she raised her arm and grabbed her opponent’s wrist. His sword stopped mere inches from her face, and she ducked backwards before he could force it any further.