Making of a Warrior

by Frank David

  “Find me a man that will follow the orders issued by his wife and I will marry him. Men do not take orders from women. I have seen strong women broken by their husbands. I will not be one of them. If a man were to ever raise his hand to me, I would break that hand. Men believe women need to be punished for speaking out of turn. I love my father, but I have seen the cruelty he has subjected upon my mother. She was once a strong woman, or so I have been told. He broke her spirit, as men do. Just like a horse that does not succumb to your will, you break his spirit through punishment. I am not a beast. I am a woman, and as such, I deserve the same respect you would show anyone else.” She looked at him with disapproval. She hated men and their barbaric ways.

  “Not all men want to break a woman’s spirit. Some men appreciate a woman who is not easily swayed,” he wanted Felicia to understand not all men were the same.

  “They appreciate their spirit until it goes against their wishes. The novelty wears off quickly.” She returned her attention to the book.

  The boat began to sway more, signaling they were approaching port. Harris stood and walked over to the window. “We have arrived,” he said turning to look at her.

  “Let us gather our things and head up to the deck. We need to find a room quickly before they are all filled,” she said as she grabbed her bag and rushed to the door, Harris following.

  “It has been years since I have been to the capital. My emotions are mixed. I feel so distanced from the other Imperials, but it will be nice to see so many that I have not seen in so long.” She made her way to the rails and watched as the sailors prepared for docking.

  “Do you think anyone will recognize you?” He stood beside her.

  “I do not think so. I was only a child the last time I was here. I have changed since then.”

  The sailors secured the ship to the pier and lowered the plank to allow the passengers to disembark. Felicia hurried to the front of the line, forgetting she was not here as the daughter of the Imperial Grand Archduke. The others in the line pushed her back. Harris grabbed her and pulled her to the side.

  “Felicia, you are not an Imperial on this trip. You cannot just jump to the beginning of the line. You need to learn how to be a commoner,” he laughed as they took their place among the others.

  The position of the sun showed it was just past midday when the two stepped off the ship.

  “I will get us a carriage to Helmsley,” Felicia called out as she ran toward the waiting coachmen.

  Harris walked around the area. He had never had the privilege of visiting the Imperial capital and wanted to take it all in. He watched as those of higher birth passed him, not even seeing him. This was always the hardest for Harris to grasp, how someone of such power could overlook those who looked to them for everything. He often believed none of them deserved the respect they were afforded. Were it not a crime to attack them, he would call open season on all those of high birth. He watched as they passed the children selling their cakes. He knew they were trying to make money to help feed their families. He also knew the cakes were probably stolen, having been there himself when he was a child. Those of lower station, lords perhaps, would stop and entertain the children and occasionally one of them would buy a cake. He knew they would not eat it. It had been handled by “one of them.” They would wait until they were out of sight and discard it or offer it to some wretch begging as they headed toward the cities.

  “Harris,” she called out to him. He did not seem to hear her. She ran up to him and punched in the arm. “I was calling you. I have our ride waiting. Let us go, we have no time to waste.”

  He rubbed his arm as he followed her. He did not expect her to be so strong. She was, after all, only a girl. He watched as she approached an old wagon and jumped in the back. “This is our transport to the Imperial Capital, a broken-down wagon?” He looked up at the old man who would be driving them and the sad excuse for a horse at the lead. “I do not know who is closer to death, the driver or the horse,” he laughed as he joined Felicia.

  “You said it yourself, I am not an Imperial on this trip. Just be glad you made that comment after we boarded the ship, otherwise you may have been forced to squeeze yourself on deck.” She laid back, looking up at the sky as the wagon began the journey.

  Fourteen

  Charity arrived home just as the sun was setting. It had been a long emotional day, but she needed to return home. She needed to know if her instincts were correct. She rushed from the carriage and entered Suffort Palace.

  “Tripp!” she called out as she entered.

  “Charity,” Christopher greeted her. “What is wrong?”

  “Where is Tripp?” Charity seemed frantic.

  “He is upstairs in his room preparing for supper. What is wrong? You seem panicked,” Chris followed his wife as she rushed up the stairs toward her son’s room. Charity remained silent as she entered the boy’s room.

  “Tripp, I need to ask you something. I need you to be completely honest with me.” She rushed to the boy and bent down. “How did you catch the fox during the hunt?”

  “I killed him, mama,” Tripp answered innocently. His blue eyes staring at her trying to figure out why she seemed so concerned.

  “How did you catch him?”

  “I told him I wanted to dance with cousin Sofia. I told him for me to be able to do that I needed to kill him,” Tripp looked at his mother. Her face seemed strange.

  “What do you mean you told him?”

  “I spoke to him with my head. I just thought the words and he came over and laid down in front of me. Then I took the knife…”

  “Enough,” Charity stopped him, not wanting the details of the death. “Have you ever done this with other animals?”

  “Sure, I talk to the animals all the time. Well not with my words, with my head like the fox,” Tripp was becoming upset with the questions. Had he done something wrong?

  “It is okay, baby. I was just curious. Finish getting ready for supper. Your father and I need to talk.” She turned and grabbed Christopher, leading him out of the room.

  Once the two were far from Tripp’s room, Charity stopped.

  “Braynard!” she called out.

  “What is wrong with you, Charity?” Christopher looked at her, not sure what to think.

  “Braynard, I know you can hear me. I want to talk to you,” she called out, unsure if the Scientia would respond.

  “You figured it out. I am curious, how did you know I would respond to your call?” the voice came from behind them.

  The two turned to see the robed man standing behind them. Christopher was not sure what was going on. He stood silently hoping his wife knew what she was doing.

  “You seem to appear at just the right moment, which leads me to believe you are always listening. My son, he is a Magister also, is he not?” she asked looking at Braynard with contempt.

  “You do not need me to answer that. You know the truth,” he stood motionless, staring at them. “The boy’s power is nothing to be ashamed of. It is actually one of the better powers to have, Charity.”

  “Are you going to take him away now?” Charity worried her son would be forced to leave and live with the Scientia.

  Braynard looked at the Duke. He need not be involved in this conversation. He raised his hand, and Christopher stood silently in a sleep-like state. “I stopped taking Imperial children from their parents. I bind all Imperial children at birth. This tradition was instilled many generations ago. It made the job of the Master Scientia much easier. Gone were the fights to train the children away from their parents,” Braynard did not like the image of child snatcher. “I would prefer that you allow your son to come with me. I know he will learn his skills well on his own but with the help of the Scientia he could be a true master.”

  “What did you do to my husband?” Charity demanded.

  “He is fine. He does not need to know all the secrets of Saaveth. It is best he remains ignorant. Once our conversation is complete, he
will be released and will have no memory of my visit or your discussion with Tripp.” Braynard turned to face the boy’s room. “Will you allow me to have him properly trained?”

  “Why have we been given these powers? Why have we been cursed?” Charity was angry. She saw these abilities as a burden not realizing the importance she would soon serve.

  “You have heard the story of creation, the one the Church teaches, yes? The one which says God created man in his own image. The story is only partially true. God created three forms of man. He created the man as described in the stories. These men were lawless. They did not see the face of God so did not believe in his existence. These men became the ancestors of the barbarians that Declan forced out of Hulsteria. God also created eight beings. He granted each of these a gift, one of each of the powers that exist on Saaveth today. He made them like Gods themselves, just not as powerful as he. They multiplied, passing their gifts to their children. These are the ancestors of the Scientia.” Braynard paused.

  “I am descendant of one of these creations?” Charity asked suspiciously.

  “No, as I said there was a third. God watched His children, their love for one another. The eight and their children gave praise to God daily, to thank him for their gifts. God was envious of the love shared by His children. He wanted to experience this love Himself, so He created a mate, Tabitha. She was the most beautiful of His creations. The two had four children. Their descendants would lead the four realms. You are the descendant of one of his children. I believe that is why the power is so strong with you. That is why you require no training.” Braynard watched as Charity stared at him.

  “I have seen many of His children master their skills but never have I seen one with such control when first discovering their powers. You should have set the dungeon on fire. You should have burnt the Great Hall to the ground and killed everyone in it. You did not. I was impressed. I know that you will be a great ally to Hulsteria. For some reason, I did not sense this when I bound your powers. Something must have changed your path. I can only assume it was the death of Rupert.”

  “I am the descendant of God, himself? You do realize how difficult this is to believe. My parents had no such powers. I have never heard whispers of others in my line having such abilities,” Charity challenged his claims.

  “Others of your line had such abilities. However, they were bound. Binding all the Imperials allowed the realms to remain at peace. If all powers were known, wars would break out between the realms to see whose powers were the greatest. Also, before binding, those who were blessed did not see the grace the recipient was shown by being granted these powers. People did not realize these powers came from God, they believed they were from somewhere darker. All of His powers run through your veins, it is the luck of the draw that assigns your power.”

  “Are you one of these descendants as well? You seem to possess many of the powers.” Charity needed to know more about the man if he were to take her son.

  “I am not. Who I am is not important. I am a servant. I serve the people of Saaveth, that is all you need to know.”

  “You selflessly serve? There is nothing in it for you?”

  “I serve as is my duty. That is all you need to know, highness. Now, I would like to take the boy and begin his training. I promise he will be unharmed and will be returned to you when he is prepared.” Braynard hoped she would agree. If not, he may be forced to take the boy.

  “Will I be allowed to see him when I wish? What will I tell Christopher?” Charity would have to explain her son’s disappearance.

  “You may see him whenever you like, but you must be alone. Simply call me. I will bring him to you. Do not worry about Christopher or Gage. I will give each a memory of him leaving to spend time with your mother. You will need to explain to others who may question where he is.”

  “Will you allow him to remain with me until after the Naming Ceremony celebrations? I would not want him to miss out on the fun. I promise as soon as it has ended you may take him and begin his training. It will also give me time to explain it to him.” Charity was not sure if she was making the right decision but believed Braynard was sincere.

  “Very well. I will come to collect him after the celebrations have ended. Tell no one else that he will be coming with me.” The man faded as his words ended.

  Charity turned to see Christopher staring at her. “Why did you rush home? I was sure you would have stayed at the palace until after the celebrations. The boys and I would have just met you there.”

  “I needed to come home and collect some things. I did not take enough with me for the week-long celebrations.” She turned and headed toward her room to oversee the maids packing for the celebrations, still unsure about her decision.

  ****

  The wagon jostled with every bump in the road leading to Helmsley. Felicia enjoyed the gentle rocking, Harris not so much. The sun was starting to set as they entered the gates of the city. She sat up to look around. She had not been to the capital in many years. It was like it was her first time. The people were rushing about the streets in preparation for the celebration, she figured. The market was packed with shoppers and pickpockets. She watched as children distracted shoppers while the others took what they could from the unsuspecting victims.

  The wagon came to a stop just at the entrance of the market. The driver gave a sign for the two to exit. Felicia jumped from the wagon. She walked up to pay the driver as Harris jumped from the back. The wagon continued through the backstreets of the city.

  “Well, I guess our first priority is to find a room for the night. I hope all the rooms are not taken. I do not want to sleep under the stars. It will get quite cold overnight.” Felicia started up toward the market, watching the children as she moved. She would not be one of their victims. She kept her hand on the hilt of her sword as she walked. Harris was running to keep up with her.

  She approached the first inn at the top of the market. It was not the closest accommodations. She entered to find many men gathered around the bar drinking. She walked up to the barmaid to inquire about available rooms. The barmaid laughed, noting that all rooms in Helmsley were filled with the coming celebration. This put a kink in her plans. She would need to reach out to her family for a place to stay. Her parents would be arriving soon, and she knew they would be staying at Rothmar. She would need to seek other family connections.

  “We will need to go to Cranston Manor. It is the home of Imperial Grand Duke Caleb Daniels. He is a distant cousin and should be willing to give us a place to stay. The manor is on the outskirts of town, so we will have to hurry. Hopefully, he has not opened his home to others yet.” Felicia rushed off to the east of the market. She had not seen Caleb in many years, but she remembered him being a kind man.

  “How do you know he will give us both a place to stay? You have said yourself you do not visit Jascaessau. Will he even remember you?” Harris worried they would get to the manor only to be turned away.

  “I have the ring of my family. He will recognize it and will give us a room, if one is available.” Royal and Imperial families had an insignia that identified them as members of a house or line. Felicia did not wear the ring, but she always had it with her.

  “How are you and the duke related? Are all Imperials related?” Harris never understood why all Imperials called each other cousin. Were they really cousins or was it just a casual greeting?

  “We are both descended from Declan Dorman, as are most Imperials. Imperials believe it is important to track families and relations. You would be hard pressed to find an Imperial that is not in some way related to Declan. Royals, on the other hand, some we are related to, others we are not. Though honestly so many have married into Imperial families that even most of them are related. Even the bastard children are recorded, of course only if the Imperial claims the child; if denied the child is not recorded. I am sure there are many commoners who are of Imperial blood who have not been claimed. The men of the Imperial bloodline are no
t as admirable as some might think. Bastard children are as common as children born within a proper marriage.” Her own father was rumored to have some bastard children which he denied. Bastard children could cause problems for legitimate children if they desired. She secretly hoped she had an older bastard sibling that would come forth and stake a claim to the duchy and relieve her of her duty.

  “How do you remember all of these relations, especially when you do not see them?” Harris was intrigued by the Imperial lines.

  “You are raised knowing how you are related to the others. It is believed knowing you are related to the leaders of other kingdoms, duchies or what have you will keep you from trying to bring war against a family member. It usually works, but not always. Some family members are greedy.” Felicia hurried on. She wanted to reach the manor before the sun set. “The manor is not much further. Try to keep up,” she looked back seeing Harris falling behind. For a trained warrior, his stamina was not what she expected.

  “I am doing my best. How is it you appear to not tire? We have been running for some time, and you are not even winded,” Harris paused to catch his breath.

  “I am obviously more motivated than you,” she laughed, not stopping. She picked up her pace as the distance between the two grew.

  He could not let the girl beat him. He caught his breath then made a mad dash to catch his companion. He closed the distance between the two. She slowed and stopped in front of a stone wall. He tried to stop but the gravel beneath his feet affected his traction, and he slipped losing his balance.

  “Ha,” she laughed as she extended her hand to help him. “We are here, Cranston Manor.” She stood in front of the gate. She approached the oak barrier preventing entry. The guard appeared, staring at her through the opening in the gate.

  “Please inform Imperial Royal Prince Caleb that Her Imperial Royal Highness Felicia Lester of Raamsfeld is requesting an audience,” she gave the order as if it was commonplace. Harris watched as she used her status when needed.