01 - The Price of Talent

by Peter Whittlesey

  His smile was starting to annoy me, and his tone was definitely bordering on mockery. I was starting to dislike the man. So I made my best effort to take a mid-guard as Devlin had taught me.

  “Oh ho?! A passable guard position?” he said, still smiling. “This should be interesting. Why don’t I skip seeing the other two and move on to more interesting things?”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said, wanting to show the efficacy of Devlin’s tutelage.

  “Tyr, I’m going to run through some basic attacks at your guard at half speed and want to see you block them,” he said. “We are going to see how well you know your… Only three guards was it?”

  “Fine, block and parry practice it is,” I said, trying not to make it obvious he was annoying me.

  With that Alfieri took the other stave in his hand. He immediately dropped into what I can only describe as a flamboyant fighting stance. He had turned sideways and had his front foot pointing towards me and the other pointing away. His knees were bent and his back hand was tucked behind his back. He looked more like an artist’s interpretation of a fighting stance than a real one. I was hard pressed not to giggle back at him.

  I was a bit surprised then when he began testing my guard with some basic attacks. For all that his initial stance seemed silly, his attacks were quick, precise and on target. It was also obvious he meant what he said about this being half speed, as I had no trouble blocking his attacks. Still, he apparently had more skill than his flamboyant behavior had lead me to believe.

  “Good, very good!” He said, after completing his basic attacks. “Your blocks are decent, you clearly have had some training, yes?”

  “Yes,” I responded.

  “But the style is different…” he said, looking pensive but still smiling. “If I had to guess, the person who trained you had some military experience. While not as sophisticated a style as my own, it is not altogether ineffective either. Suitable to be taught to the rabble who make up the foot soldiers of an army. A guard suitable for mere guardsman.”

  I chose to ignore that little jab. If I was going to have to put up with this man on a daily basis, flying off the handle about insults to my friends probably wouldn’t help foster a good relationship. Still, the fact that he was willing to insult my friends didn’t help my impression of him.

  “Now that I have seen you are mildly competent at defending yourself, I want to test your theory that you know the pointy end of a sword from the dull end.” Alfieri said. “So now I want you to attack me at half speed.”

  “Half speed?” I asked. “I think I can manage that.”

  “Then, when you are ready, if you are ready,” he responded.

  Trying not to let him get a rise out of me, I started with some basic attack sequences. I did them at half speed, just like he said, so he had no problem blocking them. After a few of these he motioned me to stop.

  “As competent in attack as in defense? Not bad Tyr,” said Alfieri. “And you didn’t lose your temper either, I’m surprised. Given your reputation I would have thought you to be… more volatile.”

  “I’m sorry… What?” I said, not too terribly articulately. “What reputation?”

  “Tyr, you’re a killer,” said Alfieri looking at me like I had two heads and both of them had said something extremely stupid. “You have lit inquisitors on fire and evaded capture for the better part of a year… Surely you realize that this has caused no small amount of trepidation in those of us who run this place?”

  “You mean, this was a test?” I asked, realizing that of course it was.

  Once I viewed things from his perspective it made a certain amount of sense. I had avoided capture and was responsible for the deaths of a few Inquisitors. From his perspective, I bet using me to train initiate inquisitors seemed like a dangerous risk. Who knows when I would fly off the handle and start lighting people on fire… Again.

  “Everything is a test Tyr,” Alfieri said. “But in this case, I wanted to know if I could trust you with my students.”

  “So… I passed?” I asked, not knowing what else to say.

  “Yes, at least for now,” said Alfieri. “But I will be watching you. Any signs of violent outbursts and I will see to it that you end up back in the pit.”

  And with that he walked back to the main building. Not knowing what else to do, I collected the staves, leaned them against one of the targets and headed back towards the dormitory building. On my way there I was intercepted by Claudius.

  “Good timing Tyr,” he said. “Lunch is being served. Shall I show you to the mess?”

  “Alfieri didn’t seemed that happy with the idea of my training the Inquisitors.”

  “Well, no, he isn’t that thrilled with the idea,” said Claudius. “But in time he will learn to appreciate what you have to offer.”

  “He said I had a reputation…” I said.

  “Well, Tyr, given your activities in the past year, are you that surprised?” He said. “Alfieri has trained all the Inquisitors that have been through here for decades. The people you killed were all former students of his.”

  “I… See…” I said.

  While it was nice to get confirmation of my suspicions, it was also less than thrilling as well. If I was ever going to escape this place, it would be helpful if I wasn’t being watched by people like Alfieri. I guess I just had to try and win him over as well. At least enough so that I could plan my escape without arousing suspicions.

  Claudius led me back to the main building of the castle. Once inside, he led me down a hallway, past the kitchens and into a large banquet hall. Inside were a bunch of tables at which quite a few initiates were sitting around eating. Claudius chose an unoccupied table over by where we came in to sit down. Shortly after, a member of the kitchen staff brought out a couple of sandwiches and some beer for Claudius and some water for me.

  The meal was taken in relative silence. The students kept to themselves, only occasionally looking over at our table. I couldn’t tell if they were just curious or if there was actual animosity in their stares. I decided not to think about it. After our meal was done, Claudius led me back out to the yard. Once there he ran me through a few warm up drills, like lighting a candle without blowing it up and moving a few small objects with telekinesis.

  “Ok Tyr, now that you have had a little warm up, I want you to light one of the targets on fire,” said Claudius.

  “Uh, won’t that destroy the dummy?” I asked.

  “If it does, it will just be replaced,” he said. “But you raise a good point. Why don’t you aim at one of the straw archery targets, they’re cheaper to replace.”

  “If you say so…” I said with a little trepidation.

  So with that I turned and faced the archery targets. I picked the one at the end closest to me for convenience sake. Then I drew on the power around me, letting it fill me. I started feeling that heavy headed pressure I used to get before my headaches, a sign that indicated that I was full of unspent power. Then I concentrated on the target, and the feeling of heat, focusing on the bull’s-eye. Then I released the power. Fire burst forth from the bull’s-eye and quickly spread to the rest of the target.

  “Ok, so the target’s on fire now…” I said. “Should we, uh, do something about that?”

  “Now Tyr, I want you to quench the fire, draw its power out of the target and use it to attack the next target.”

  “Uh, do you want me to light that target on fire?’ I asked.

  “No, this time use lightning,” he said.

  “Ok…” I said, gaining a little confidence.

  So, I started to draw on the heat of the fire. At first it was easy, what had become a bonfire quickly became a choked smoky mess. Unfortunately, I started feeling like my head was full to bursting and there was still more to draw on.

  “I see your grimace,” said Claudius. “Start making a connection between you and the next target. If you start focusing the energy while you draw it from the other target, you don’t nee
d to keep it all contained in you. It’s a good way to avoid that headache I can see from your expression is building.”

  Drawing and casting at the same time was surprisingly difficult. It’s a lot like thinking about two things at once. Your mind wants to jump from one to the other. Unfortunately, with magic, when you lose concentration, you lose the connection. So, with care I continued to draw on the heat of the fire while also forming the connection between me and the next target. Instead of thinking about heat, I thought about that crackling, prickling electric sensation. Soon, my hair was standing on end. Just as the fire was going out completely on the first target, I switched all my attention to the second and released the electric charge around me.

  There was suddenly a loud crack, and I was briefly blinded. By the time I had blinked the after images out of my eyes, and the ringing in my ears had stopped, I saw Claudius smiling. Then I looked at the target… Well, what was left of the target. The straw was everywhere and singed. The actual cloth that the target was painted on was split in half down the middle, with the frayed seam burnt. What was left of the straw stuffing was adorning nearby targets or floating down out of the air.

  “Very good Tyr,” said Claudius. “I actually felt the hairs on my head, what’s left of them anyway, stand up before you released that bolt.”

  “Uh, thank you sir…” I said, still a little disoriented from the lightning.

  “Now, I want you to try to hit the third target with an icicle,” said Claudius. “I want you to hit the bull’s-eye. I know you have some archery training, so let’s see how accurate you can be with an arrow of ice propelled by telekinesis.”

  Fortunately, I managed to clear my head in time to hear all that. Not knowing what else to do, I started to draw in more power. This took a few seconds longer than previously as the lightning had left me surprisingly drained. But once done, I started to draw the water out of the air with telekinesis. It took me a couple of minutes to create an icicle the length of an arrow. Once done I aimed it at the target and started building the force needed to launch it at the target. While doing this I realized I was aimed directly at the bull’s-eye, which means I would hit bellow the bull’s-eye once it was fired off. Just as in archery, you need to adjust for gravity and distance. Once done I released the energy and fired off the icicle. My estimates were pretty good as I hit on the line between the bull’s-eye and the nearest ring.

  “Again, good job Tyr,” said Claudius. “I see your skills are improving.”

  “Thanks sir,” I said, more than a little excited that I managed everything so well.

  “Now, I have other duties to attend in the castle,” said Claudius. “But I want you to continue to practice this over this afternoon. I want you to focus on honing your control with fire and lightning. Try only scorching the targets, instead of obliterating them. With ice, you need to practice your speed. An icicle isn’t all that practical a projectile if it takes you too long to make them.”

  When he was done explaining, he left and walked back into the castle. Since that left me alone in the practice field, though likely not unobserved, I had little choice but to continue to practice. The afternoon passed quickly. I managed to only destroy a couple of more targets. Not surprisingly, lightning was the hardest to control. Once you make the connection, the power tries to blast through you and into your target, draining you of all your reserves. This is very disorienting if you don’t exert a lot of control. Fire, as usual for me, was the easiest. It came naturally to me and I was quickly able to hit the target with concentrated bursts of flame that I squelched before the whole target was ablaze. As Claudius had pointed out, my work with ice was taking far too much time and needed more practice. Still, it was a start. It was not long ago I couldn’t manage lightning or ice at all.

  So with the job well done, at least in my opinion, and the sun setting, I headed back towards the mess for some dinner.

  Chapter 19.

  The next few weeks passed quickly. My days were spent training, both with the new inquisitor initiates and by myself. Typically my mornings were spent with the initiates, and the afternoons were spent with Claudius training me privately. I had very little interaction with the few initiates who, like Meredith, showed considerably more magical talent. My evenings were technically free, though I split my time between training with my sword in the yard, exploring the library, and hanging out with Meredith after her classes and hospital duties were over.

  The library was on the right side of the main entryway to the castle, if you were facing the entrance from the inside. It took up the whole first floor of that wing, above which the general student classrooms were. Because I was getting private tutoring from Claudius, I had not spent much time on this second story. I did take a walk down the second floor hallway one evening, just out of curiosity, but it was a little underwhelming. I don’t know what I was expecting to find, but empty rooms filled with desks and chairs, with a slate board on one wall, where presumably the teacher wrote out important facts with chalk, was not it. Mostly, it looked like a larger version of the town clerk’s office near where I grew up.

  The library itself was quite large. It had what seemed like thousands of books stacked tightly on tall shelves. Meredith let me know that there were many basements below where more controversial books were kept. However, since nobody here quite trusted me, this was an area of the library that was strictly off limits to me. That might explain why Claudius just described them as storage, because functionally that’s exactly what they were, but also because I think he didn’t want me to get too curious about them. Still, the official library was quite interesting. There were whole sections on history, science, philosophy and art. Of course, these were all the official histories and sanctioned scholarly work, so everything matched official church doctrine. I could see why the allure of the library basements was hard for Ross to ignore, with every book towing the line on church doctrine, it made you curious about what information they were concealing. Still, what information was available seemed to fit with the history that Ross had told me those many months ago. The only real difference being that the official versions made everything seem inevitable and had the army of mages yielding to the superior might of the high priest’s armies, instead of the more desperate struggle that Ross said actually took place.

  My evenings with Meredith started mostly as a way for her to decompress after stressful days in the hospital treating the sick and injured from Sudchester and the surrounding area. For me, they were one of my very few opportunities to socialize with someone without either Claudius or Alfieri acting as chaperone. Also, I had found that the other initiates, even the inquisitor initiates I worked with every day, were none too anxious to get to know me. Apparently my pre-capture exploits were well known, and few people were all that anxious to get to know someone they thought of as a murderer. That I had only killed in self-defense did nothing to dispel rumors or cleanse me of my bad reputation. Fortunately, Meredith knew the truth, and had seen the true nature of the church power when the inquisitors had arrested me, and later herself and her father.

  After some time though, our meetings also became planning sessions for our escape. The biggest problem that we had encountered is that there seemed to be no record of her father’s detention, at least not in any parts of the castle that we had access to. This lack of information only deepened Meredith’s concern and her resolve to escape with me. A secondary problem was that I was no good at mental magic. Claudius had captured me fairly easily simply by hitting me with his knockout spell. As Meredith explained it, the technique involved hitting parts of the brain with energy, overwhelming it, and causing the person to lose consciousness. She said it was similar to what happens when you get physically knocked out, just without the long term negative effects that can occur when the brain receives physical trauma. The spell was frequently used as a form of anesthetic at the hospital when surgery was necessary. Just knock the person out and keep periodically blasting his or her brain with en
ergy until he or she was ready to start the healing and recuperation process.

  Because escaping meant having to avoid getting knocked out again, Meredith spent many evenings trying to teach me how to resist the spell. The actual process involves sensing the power, recognizing its pattern, and pushing back against it. Unfortunately, my abilities in this regard were woefully inadequate. Meredith had no problem brushing past my defenses and knocking me out. The best I could do was keep myself from passing out entirely, I still would lose my balance and barely keep my consciousness. And even then, when subjected to the spell repeatedly, my defenses would fail and I would lose consciousness. At first we tried to do this facing each other from a standing position. A couple of nasty falls later and we decided it would be better if I practiced fighting the spell while sitting on my bed. It took a long time before I graduated from there to a chair. Even then, the first time I tried to defend myself from the spell, I practically fell over. Since these sessions were done in my room to avoid prying eyes, my sword got to watch the whole thing. He thought it was hilarious. Of course, instead of practice, he thought of it as my falling over for his amusement. The side benefit of this is that he had become quite enamored with Meredith. Anyone that could knock me out that easily was ok in his book.