The Callindra Chronicles Book One - First Quest

by Benjamin Fisher-Merritt

  “Glarian, you cocky fuck. Do you really think you’ll get away with it? Whatever, I’ll make her a sword; after all it’s a challenge and I owe you regardless. I’m warning you though, it won’t last. That girl… she’ll destroy it. She’s got too much power for that frame and she’ll take it out on whatever sword you give her. Either that or it’ll kill her and you along with her. If she was here for me to measure her potential myself I might be able to pull it off, but that little whelp is fucking dangerous, you’re nuts if you try to train her.

  “In other words, I know you’re training her you stupid bastard. Watch your ass and I’ll get the sword to you in a year. Stay alive until then, and keep her alive. I don’t want all this fucking work to go to waste.”

  So it was bad then, worse than he had feared. Glarian took a deep breath and blew it out, nearly extinguishing the fire in the process. It was years since he had exhibited lack of self-control like this. He was committed now though; there was no turning back.

  He walked outside, unsheathing Sakar as he went. This was going to be a difficult journey. He had better be in condition to handle whatever came; it was beginning to worry him that no one had come to challenge him in spite of the talismans being active for a month. It was only a matter of time; they were probably watching him already.

  -

  Callindra was too angry to feel the pain and exhaustion as she went to the wood shed and began splitting kindling for the evening fire. Thankfully the axe handle touched different places on her palms than the sword hilt and she made quick work of it. She was too weak and she knew it.

  Next she grabbed the yoke and buckets for water. She hated the yoke because it was hard to fit over her shoulders when she had the baldric on and because she had difficulty taking it off without getting help or spilling all the water. Her arms weren’t up to the task of carrying the buckets on their own though. Not yet.

  The path down to the stream was well-worn. She and Glarian weren’t the only animals who walked it, they shared it mainly with deer but she had seen signs of bears and even wolves as well so she always made her way carefully. After all, Glarian had killed that puma not far from here.

  A flock of birds took to wing on her left, she tried to turn quickly to track where they had come from but the yoke and buckets hampered her. With a growl of frustration she hurried to the stream, filled the buckets and walked back to the house as fast as she could, trying to look in every direction at once.

  She entered the clearing and saw Glarian. He was practicing the Seventh Korumn, she had seen it before although she was in no way ready to try it. With every swing he jumped in the air, each time getting higher and higher until he hardly seemed to touch the ground at all. When the Korumn was finished, he balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, a blast of air from the impact of his landing seeming to move Callindra’s hair, even at this distance.

  Seeing his skill and the beauty of the Korumn wiped the thoughts of anger from her mind. “Master, you are amazing!”

  She knelt next to the cistern, ducking out from underneath the yoke. Her leg screamed at her, but she ignored it. Pain was fleeting; unless she managed to push past it there was no way she could ever get stronger.

  “It has been too long since I have completed all seven Korumn in a row. I’m actually quite rusty.” He was stripped to the waist, sweat beading on his forehead. The muscles on his shoulders rippled as he sheathed his sword. Callindra was reminded of how far she had to go, even just in basic strength. She marveled at his perfectly muscled frame, wondering if she would ever be able to measure up to his expectations.

  “That should be enough water for you Master; I’ll go get water for my bath now.” She said, shouldering the buckets again in spite of the sharp protest her muscles made. She would become stronger. She would rise to the challenge he had presented. She didn’t have a choice. When she turned to go, she missed the approving look on his face.

  -

  His apprentice was finally showing some grit, Glarian smiled as she left to get more water. That limp had him worried though, he had to make sure she didn’t push herself too hard.

  “I think she shows promise, although it won’t matter in a few minutes.” A voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

  Glarian turned calmly, hands at his sides. “It was clever of you to wait until after I’d practiced. A good strategy, but I have plenty of stamina. I’m not your typical old man.” A man slipped from the shadows, drawing a wicked looking scimitar from his belt.

  “You’re right. You are a dead man.” The attack was so fast Glarian barely had the chance to draw his sword.

  He rapidly retreated, whirling Sakar in a defensive arc and deflecting multiple blows that would have sliced him in half. In spite of the frantic appearance of his blocks, he made sure to bring the thicker back edge of his blade in contact with the exact same part of his opponent’s scimitar. When the onslaught was over, he took two more steps back and shook his head.

  “It is customary to issue a challenge before attacking. I like to know who I am fighting and why.”

  “I am Sain and you are The Master of the North Wind.” He spun his scimitar in an ornate pattern, the tassel that hung from the pommel whirling in counterpart to the blade. “This is Kha’darn and today we shall take that title from you.”

  “The challenge is accepted, until one of us is dead, whether it be man or weapon. Sakar severs the life of man or blade with equal contempt.”

  Sain hesitated for a moment as if the idea of risking his sword had not occurred to him. In that moment, Glarian lashed out with all the force he could muster, striking his opponent’s sword at the precise spot he had already weakened. The scimitar Kha’darn exploded into fragments of steel.

  Without so much as admitting defeat, Sain fled into the trees. Glarian picked up the discarded sword hilt and brought it inside the house with him. Entering through the lean-to he hung it next to the first clay token of challenge. The first trophy of many.

  He opened the spigot over the bath, gravity filling the large copper tub that sat next to the fire. The fire was low, but Callindra had split enough wood to get it going again. In a few minutes the water was hot and he was soaking comfortably in it when he heard Callindra return. It looked as though she had bathed in the cold water of the stream instead of waiting for a hot bath.

  She paused in the doorway to her bedroom, “Master, I’m sorry. I know I’m weak but I will get stronger. I will become worthy of your training.”

  “I know you will Disciple. I won’t allow you to fail.” He said, unable to keep the approval from his voice. He saw the smile on her face as she turned and knew she understood. He would not allow her to fail.

  Chapter 7

  Glarian led the way downstream to a grove of oak trees that stood evenly spaced about a meadow. The trees were huge, their limbs spreading to cover several spans. Callindra could hear the stream still, but knew it was a little way off. She set the cloth wrapped bundle that contained her lunch and water skin in the shade next to one of the trees.

  “So what is the training today?” She asked, hoping for more sparring. Glarian had been testing her skills lately with what he called the direct method. Even though she had bruises and cuts covering her arms and legs from the last couple of days, it was exhilarating.

  “I have completed my assessment of your strengths and weaknesses and have designed this training course for you. It will strengthen your arms and shoulders while at the same time improving your blade control.” He gestured to logs lashed to the tree trunks, many with wedges of wood behind them, holding them at odd angles.

  “You must cut through these logs using this axe.” He handed her an axe with a strangely shaped handle, “Your methods are your own but with one stipulation. The bark of the tree underneath must be untouched. Come find me when you have finished.”

  He walked back upstream, leaving Callindra to survey the work ahead of her. The sun was barely above the horizon but it was already hot. She st
ripped to her chest wrap and attacked the first log with vigor.

  Cutting through the first part of the log was no problem, despite the shock of the axe impacting the solidness of the wood. She ran into trouble when the log was nearly cut through. It was so difficult to ensure the last cut did not carry through into the trunk of the tree that it took more time to sever the last inch than it had the first ten.

  The sun was high in the sky by the time she had finished just the first two of the eight logs she was assigned to cut. Callindra took her lunch and headed for the welcoming chatter of the stream. Her body was soaked with sweat; it would feel wonderful to cool off in the water before eating.

  She was in luck; there was a large pool of water with a wide flat rock stretching out into it. After carefully sinking the axe into a large log of driftwood and hanging her sword high and dry from it she shed the remains of her clothes and leaped into the water with a gleeful yell.

  The water was cold, but it felt wonderful after sweating under the sun all morning. She dove under and held onto a large rock; looking back up towards the sky through the clear water. A strange flash and swirl of light caused her to quickly surface and when she did she saw a young man standing at the edge of the stream.

  “Good morrow lass, I apologize for interrupting your swim.” He was a good enough looking man, dressed all in rather garish red leather armor with a pair of steel tipped whips at his belt.

  “Not at all.” Callindra replied, doing her best to walk unabashedly from the water. In books she’d read, men and women often bathed together when they were soldiers, she didn’t want to appear prudish.

  “Perhaps you could help me out. I’m looking for a powerful mage who lives in the area.” He said, not seeming at all interested in her nudity.

  Callindra walked to where her clothes were sitting and tugged on her underbreeches, trying not to look hurried. While she wrapped her chest, she answered him. “I’m Callindra. I don’t know of any mages around here at all, let alone powerful ones. I’ve only been in the area for a year and a half though. Why don’t you join me for a midday meal and tell me about yourself and what brings you here.”

  “Gladly, I have been walking for six hours now.” He sat on the rock and watched Callindra set out bread, apples, cheese and cuts of cold venison. “My name is Daleus, and I have been teaching myself to use a blend of weapons and magic now for five years.”

  Callindra glanced involuntarily toward the place she had stashed her sword. “Magic? Why would you try to learn to use magic?”

  “Magic is power and I need to become stronger in order to accomplish my goals.” He said, not noticing the fear and mistrust in her voice, “Now that I have mastered the whip I seek to challenge a Titled mage. If I can just find him I know I can take that Title from him but instead of claiming it as my own I will turn it in to The Order in exchange for admittance to their school. Then there will be nothing that can stop me.”

  She forced herself to be calm and cut a slice of cheese with her belt knife. “Why would you need to go to a school if you have mastered your weapon of choice? If you have the skill to defeat a mage with a Title what more do you have to learn?”

  Daleus laughed, “This Titled mage is old, it won’t be a completely fair fight but the fool has recently put up his Challenge talismans. What I might lack in skill I can make up for with youth and endurance.” He jumped up, forgetting the food set out before him.

  “I’ll show you how much I have learned on my own, imagine what I could do if I had Masters to learn from!” He unlimbered his whips and began moving through the steps of what she realized was a Korumn. Halfway through, she could see something happen to his weapons. She looked closer, there were tiny glowing threads wrapping around the braided leather, all the way down to the steel tips. When the threads reached the ends, bursts of flame exploded from them every time they cracked. By the end of the Korumn Daleus was surrounded by a roaring wall of fire.

  Callindra was terrified, but fascinated at the same time. To calm herself, she used the breathing exercises Glarian had taught her. Something about him seemed so familiar, but she was positive they had never met before. Her back bumped up against the driftwood that her sword rested behind, she realized she had retreated to the protection of her weapon by instinct.

  Daleus turned towards her, stepping over the guttering flames with a smile on his face. “Little rabbit, I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you. To be honest I am a bit nervous about facing a Master and I wanted to at least show someone what I was capable of before the moment of truth. I mean no harm to a young girl who has offered me a meal, what threat could a woodcutter’s daughter be?”

  In spite of her fear, his dismissiveness tweaked Callindra's pride. “I may not be a threat but that is only because I choose not to be.” She reached behind the tree trunk and retrieved her baldric, “But I am also no woodcutter’s daughter.”

  He gave her an appraising look, and his eyes widened slightly. “No wonder I walked straight to this place. I can tell you don’t know it yet but you have an affinity with the Weave Callindra.” Daleus said, coiling his whips and sitting next to the meal she had laid out.

  She approached cautiously, “Me? You must be joking, I’m a sword fighter, not a magician.”

  “You may be both. After all, I can only command the power through my whips. Without them I’m as mundane as anyone, but I can still feel it. I can still see it.” He helped himself to bread, cheese and venison, “It sparks all around you Callindra. You positively glow with it.”

  “I’ll take your word for it Daleus.” She edged up to the rock and sat across from him, setting her scabbarded sword next to her. If he had wanted to harm her he would probably have done it but magic was dangerous and unpredictable, he might kill her by accident.

  “You’ve got grit Callindra, I’ll give you that.” He said with a grin, “Most girls would have run at the sight of a strange man, never mind my little flame show.”

  She grunted around a mouthful of food and swallowed before answering, “I’m obviously not like most girls.”

  While they ate, she asked him about the rest of the world. He spoke of a king she had only read about, lords who she did not know and his travels across the realm. Although he seemed young it was clear he had seen many strange and fantastic things in his travels. Callindra nibbled on an apple core, not wanting him to stop talking but she knew there were many more logs to cut before the day was out.

  Daleus seemed to have a similar realization, because he stood and brushed the crumbs off his armor. “I had best be on my way Callindra. I thank you for the meal and the conversation. Perhaps we will meet again someday. Train hard.”

  “Good luck finding your mage Daleus. Thanks for talking with me; I’ve spent over a year with only that damn old man for company.” She said and grasped his forearm in a swordsman’s handshake. He returned her clasp and left without a backward glance.

  -

  Callindra sighed and buckled her sword on. The walk back to the trees was short and she was soon cutting through another log. To her surprise it was much easier to make the precise final cut without scoring the tree trunk underneath. Even so, the sun was falling behind the hills before she had finished.

  Her triumph over the task gave her a burst of energy and she ran back to the house to tell Glarian. When she approached, she found him hanging something in the lean-to.

  “Master!” She called and he whirled, his sword seeming to appear in his hand. Without thinking she had drawn her sword and moved to parry a blow but he stopped before their blades could touch. She could see he was hanging a pair of whip handles next to an array of sword hilts none of which had more than six inches of blade left on them.

  “Sorry Callindra, it has been an interesting day.” His voice sounded tired. He sheathed his sword, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the broken weapons.

  “It’s you! You’re the great mage he was looking for?” She still held her sword in her clenched
fist. “He came to take your Title but you killed him instead.”

  “You’re partially right Apprentice. I am the Titled mage he sought and he came to take that Title from me. As you can see though, I do not take the lives those who come to challenge me. I instead kill their weapons and send them on their way.”

  “Why did you keep this from me?” Callindra backed away and a gust of wind cut between them, actually scoring the ground. Her eyes widened in fear and dust began to whirl about her. The wind tugged at her hair, moved the scabbard over her shoulder and ruffled her shirt. “What are you doing this for?”

  “Ssshhhh, quiet now.” Glarian’s voice was low and the winds calmed themselves. She could see him through the dust now; he was sitting cross legged on the ground. “Callindra, control yourself. What you’re doing is dangerous, the winds are my domain but as with everything else in my life you seem to turn it on its head.”

  She still held her sword, but Callindra managed to get her breathing under control using the exercise he had taught her. As with Daleus, she had to believe that if he was going to harm her he would have done it long before. She sat a few feet away from him and laid her sword across her knees, mirroring him.

  “What is your Title then Master?” She asked, hoping it would help her to better understand.

  “I am The Master of the North Wind.” He replied, and Callindra gasped. She had read about him. Nobody knew his real name; he was a master of Masters, had fought in countless battles and defeated a multitude of opponents. Then one day he had simply vanished, taking his Title with him and leaving the balance of the Compass of the Winds off kilter.

  “What are you doing out here? Why did you leave The Order? What is someone like you doing teaching someone like me?” She was trying to make sense of it all but the idea that he might not be telling the truth never crossed her mind.

  “I have been exiled. I had a … disagreement … with the other Masters about how and when our power should be used so they attempted to strip me of my Title. When that failed, they did the only other thing they could.”