by Eric Vall
He sauntered over to me, still fully dressed. I only barely had time to pull on my towel before he started his mouth.
“Look at this, boys, a yokel taking a bath. Tell me, is this the first time you’ve ever seen clean water?”
I smirked. “I could ask you the same thing. With all that nasty cologne you wear, one might think that maybe you’re trying to mask your own stink.”
His lips pressed into a thin line with only the bare hint of a grin. “Hm, he’s a joker. I like that.” He folded his arms behind his back and got right up in my face. Even with the steam, I could still smell his cologne. I wondered if maybe I’d hit on the truth a little too hard.
“You can joke all you want, pig,” he began, his grin turned to a sneer, “but you’re a hick, and a summoner at that. Know your place amongst your betters, and maybe you won’t get hurt.”
“Alright, Gawain, that’s enough,” Braden said as he came between us. He put a hand on Gawain’s chest and gave it a subtle push. Gawain didn’t like that.
He slapped Braden’s hand away. “Don’t touch me, Flint. You’re a disgrace to your family, being a lowly summoner. Your father must be rolling in his grave knowing what you chose to become.”
Woah. I didn’t know about Braden’s father, and I didn’t know what Gawain meant by his insult, but I knew you shouldn’t speak ill of someone’s family like that. Braden didn’t look ready to fight. He just stood still, the hurt and shock in his eyes clear as day. He could flatten Gawain if he wanted, but I’d already figured out that that wasn’t Braden’s style.
I pulled Braden back and stood in front of him. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, you piss-reeking goat-kisser? Braden would crush you if he so chose.”
“Oh yeah? And why doesn’t he?”
“Because he doesn’t hit women.”
Gawain chuckled to his friends and pointed at me. “That’s real funny. You’re a funny guy, Gryff.” He turned away from me for a moment and began to walk back with his friends, but then he twirled right back around and got real close. “Oh, and if I ever see you talking to Nia again, you’ll get a beating.”
I laughed. “Nia would prefer to be called Kenefick, and you couldn’t beat me if you tried.” Gawain was an impressive specimen, the way his muscles bulged against his shirt. He had a hair on me too, but I doubted this pampered shit had ever been in a real fight in his life. Me? I got in a drunken scrape at a tavern on a near-weekly basis.
He ignored my challenge. “Stay away from her.”
“That will be hard since she showed me to my room last night and confided in me about how much she despises you.” I knew he’d believe that, for I’d seen him watch us leave the dining hall together, though whether he’d believe the latter statement was debatable. He seethed. I guessed I struck a nerve.
Like I thought, he was predictable. He swung, but I ducked his punch and planted a firm kick right to his chest. He flailed back and tumbled into the bath, clothes and all. I laughed as hard as I could.
As his friends ran to help him, he rose out of the water, his very expensive clothes clinging to him. “Why you son of a—”
“Bye!” I yelled. Braden and I gathered up our clothes and took off. We paused briefly to throw on our trousers, then we were out of the bathhouse and running across the grounds back to Cornelius.
“That was amazing!” Braden said with a whoop.
“Yes, it was. That’s how you deal with pricks like him.”
He chuckled. “You must teach me your ways, oh wise one.”
I cracked a devilish grin. Oh, I intended to.
Chapter 9
The next day was general combat training. Instead of going to Arwyn’s classroom after breakfast, we marched out to the numerous training fields in the back of the grounds near where our summoner training room was. It was cool that morning, but I was sure that I would be drenched in sweat within an hour. I walked with Braden and Layla in the back of the class. My body was tense and ready for the training, as physical activity was a love of mine.
“How long will we be out here,” I asked them.
“It’s an all-day exercise. Every three days, though plenty practice on their down times,” Braden explained.
“Okay,” I said with a chuckle.
Braden looked at me with a raised brow. “What’s funny?”
I stifled my laugh and made my smile fade to a line. “Nothing at all,” I replied, which wasn’t true at all. I found that amusing, for I couldn’t imagine all these snobby noble people doing hard physical activity for the entire day. I, on the other hand, did it for a living.
I mean, my monsters did, but I helped.
We all shed our bulky dining robes and uniform jackets. Braden had told me that morning to wear the exercise uniform I’d been given, and I wasn’t about to argue. Calling it a uniform was generous though as it was simply a cotton shirt, mine was summoner blue of course, and an incredibly stretchy and light pair of shorts. It was made of polyester, some new material that I’d never heard of. Whatever it was, it effortlessly combined comfort and mobility.
There were two teachers present, a man and a woman, who looked us over with equally discerning gazes. Both of them eyed me at the same time, which sent a chill down my spine. The man was tall and bony, with skin that seemed to tightly stretch across his face, revealing the obvious bone structure beneath. He didn’t look unhealthy, just … pointy. Shaved head, groomed beard, and a crisp green uniform, he seemed every bit the no-nonsense military man.
The woman was older, perhaps the same age as the headmaster. Her hair was graying and tied back in a severe bun. Her features, soft and rounded, stood in contrast with her steel eyes which burrowed into each of us with scrutiny. She had obvious laugh lines etched into her face, but I had the feeling that she didn’t laugh much.
She and the officer looked at me up and down. The woman crossed her arms. “You must be the new student, I presume?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Gryff.”
Her lips set at a sharp line. “Very good. I am Mrs. Gerelda, your archery and firearms instructor.”
“And I’m Major Tytus Jareck,” said the man with a tad too much enthusiasm. “I shall make sure you can handle yourself in close quarters situations.” He extended his hand to shake. I took it, and his grip nearly broke my fingers. Jareck frowned. “We’ll need to work on that handshake.”
Yeah, that’s what needed fixing.
They divided the class in two. Half went with Major Jareck and the other half, my half, went with Mrs. Gerelda. Braden and Layla both managed to be with me, along with Nia, though we also had the misfortune of having Gawain in our grouping. But Mrs. Gerelda didn’t look like the type of person who would put up with his shit. I could only hope, for I was sure he was still bitter about the events at the baths last night.
The start of the training was at the firing range to practice with guns. It was a long open corridor with a dozen straw mannequins for shooting. We were all given a long rifle, the kind with a quick reload lever. It was much better than the old musket Maelor had me practice with back before I discovered my summoning ability. I could shoot a rifle just fine, though it had been years, so I was probably rusty.
And rusty I was. As the others popped off shot after shot and hit their targets, mine kept missing by several feet. I growled to myself. I didn’t need everyone to think I was a crap shot.
As the students worked, Mrs. Gerelda spoke to each of them and gave them pointers. She eventually made her way to me. I thought she’d chastise me, but she was calm and instructive.
“You need to breathe in as you aim, out as you pull the trigger,” she said. Then she grabbed the butt of the gun and pushed it higher and more firmly against my shoulder. “Hold it like that, the kick won’t hurt as much.”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
I did as she told me. I calmed my breathing, took in a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. My bullet hit the mannequin on the outer ring of the target thi
s time. I smiled. That wasn’t a bullseye, but it was a marked improvement over missing completely. The teacher smiled next to me, an image that made me feel good. She liked to see genuine improvement.
“Good,” she commented, then moved on to Braden next to me.
Yeah, that was good. It was nice to have a teacher that was good at their job and cared about their students’ learning. Arwyn and Gerelda were good, Rori … not so much. Time would tell for my other professors, but I hoped they would actually put forth an effort like those two.
We practiced for about an hour before we moved on to archery. I never hit the center of the bullseye with the gun, but by the end, I’d gotten close, within the final ring to the center. I’d get the bullseye soon. Not bad, considering I saw Layla and a few others do about the same as me with their targets. Nia was flawless, of course, and Gawain was close behind her with his aim. Braden was surprisingly accurate as well.
We moved a few steps to the archery pitch, where a dozen circular straw targets stood. A bit more old-fashioned than the mannequins, but I supposed they’d do.
Unlike firearms, I was skilled with a bow. Maelor taught me to hunt since living in Njordenfalls as a child meant that we went long stretches without trading with other people, so we had to catch our own food. And on the road between jobs, it was best to conserve money and live off the land. So I was a good shot, to say the least. I wasn’t the best, Nia was naturally, but I could hold my own.
I was so good that Mrs. Gerelda simply nodded with a smirk as she passed me, pleased with my skill. She was less enthusiastic about Braden and Layla’s skills with the bow. What really made me happy though was the fact that Gawain was downright dreadful with it.
“You’re rubbish, Maddox,” Layla yelled at him.
Gawain’s face twisted into a sneer. “Shut your mouth, you gutter trash.”
Mrs. Gerelda came up behind him and swatted the back of his head, her glare like ice. “You shut your mouth. You have no room to speak. Now, extend your elbow like I told you, or leave.”
Layla guffawed, spittle flying from her as she laughed. She turned to me, her smile bright and cheeky. “It’s our fifth training day, and he can’t shoot at all. He can barely draw the string back and fire it.”
I smiled. “That is such a blessing to see.”
“Right?” It really was.
Braden chimed, “The sorry image of him fumbling to knock an arrow is enough to lift me through this day.”
We all shared a loud laugh that only made Gawain angrier.
After another hour of archery, we broke for lunch. When we returned, our two groups switched instructors. It was our turn with the Major.
He led us over to the raised platforms I’d seen earlier. They were sparring arenas, or at least I assumed they were. Next to them were racks of wooden practice swords and fencing blades with rubber tips. He began to pair everyone off to spar together, but when it came time for me to get a partner, there were none left. Our group had eleven people, so I was the odd man out. I sensed that he’d done that intentionally.
As the others stretched and began to spar, the major grabbed one of the wooden swords and tossed it to me. “You ever use a sword before?” he asked. I caught the weapon in one hand and held it comfortably in my grip.
“A little bit. The man who raised me taught me enough to defend myself if need be.” That was true, though like with firearms, I’d quit trying to learn those when I could use my monsters to defend me, so it’d been a couple of years more or less since I’d properly practiced with a blade. Perhaps I shouldn’t have neglected that, but I couldn’t change the past as much as I’d like to.
He seemed to take that at face value. “Have you ever used it in a serious situation?”
I snorted. “As opposed to what, a non-serious sword-requiring situation?” I meant it to be funny, but his stony glare told me that he didn’t find it at all amusing. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, sir, uh, no, I have not had actual fighting experience.”
He nodded, considered the situation for a moment, then picked up another sword for himself and took up a fighting stance. I did the same. Knees bent and loose, legs shoulder width apart, both hands firmly on the hilt and sword held aloft in front of me. Yeah, I still remembered enough.
The major assessed me. “Your stance is good, but you’re holding the sword too high. Let your elbows bend, so you don’t tire yourself too quickly.”
I did as he said. Immediately, I felt the weight of the sword lessen as I had more leverage with it. It wasn’t like this sword was that heavy, but it was obvious that it would make a difference with an actual sword.
From there, the major walked me through a series of moves, most of which I remembered the basics of from Maelor but needed fine tuning. Thrusts, jabs, parries, feints, and all sorts of other maneuvers. Whenever I messed up, he’d whack my arm, not enough to seriously injure me, but enough to leave a bruise. It was agonizing but effective. I was not keen on making mistakes, that was for sure.
As our lesson went on, it reminded me of Maelor, of all the things he’d taught me, the things he’d ingrained in my mind. The memories, the skills, the loves. I missed him terribly then. It had only been a couple of days since I last saw him, but it would be a long time going forward before I got the opportunity to see him again. And would I find him? Would he keep roaming and laboring for people, or would he return to Njordenfalls? I had no way of knowing.
But I did know that I missed all his lessons, physical, mental, and moral.
The sword segment of our training ended before long, so we moved to hand-to-hand combat. Instead of pairing us off to spar individually, we all gathered around a wide and circular stone platform with a rubber ring that surrounded it. There was a high chair set up next to it, near where the major stood and crossed his arms.
“Bethel, Vallel, enter the ring,” he said.
Layla rolled up her sleeves and entered the ring, followed by a scrawny man with high cheekbones and balding brown hair, even though he seemed too young to be balding. Kernan Vallel was his name if I recalled correctly. A healer, like Arwyn. He stripped off his shirt and stood opposite of Layla, and the major moved to stand between them.
“You two know the rules, but they bear repeating. No eye gouging, hair pulling, or below the belt shots. Understood?”
They nodded, which satisfied him. He turned and climbed into his high chair. Once upon his perch, he produced a small brass bell that I hadn’t noticed sitting atop the seat and gave it a ring.
“Begin.”
Layla was fast. She charged in with reckless abandon, but reckless she was not. Her lithe frame made her agile. Vallel wasn’t particularly big, but certainly larger than her, but it didn’t matter here. I could tell immediately that the fight would be quick. Layla had a ferocity that poured off from her.
She lunged at him. He threw up his arms to block, but she was already dancing around him as he fell for her feint. Behind him, she had the advantage. Faster than I gave him credit for, he swung his elbow back and nearly caught Layla on the chin, but she ducked his blow and knocked his arm away. He tried to backhand her with the other arm, but she caught the offending limb and wrenched it behind his back painfully. She wrapped her legs around his torso and pulled him to the ground, his face red with pain.
With his free arm, he tapped the ground. The major rung his bell. Over that quickly. That was a disappointment from an entertainment standpoint.
“Good work, Bethel,” the major said.
Layla beamed and practically skipped out of the ring. I smirked. Maybe she wasn’t super motivated to die fighting monsters, but I had to hand it to her, she had some skills.
The major cleared his throat and surveyed the rest of us. When his eyes found mine, I knew it was my turn. “Gryff, Kenefick, into the ring.”
Oh, hell. Of course, it would be her. I didn’t particularly want to hit her, for I didn’t like to fight women, especially ones as pretty as her, but I didn’t have a choice. Pl
us, this was another opportunity to show that I belonged.
I stepped into the ring opposite of Nia and threw off my shirt. Layla and a few other girls whistled, though I didn’t know if they were being sincere or not. I stretched my arms and legs, the bruises from the sword practice making me ache, but I could manage. Nia did some light stretches as well, but she didn’t look at all bothered, though she never looked bothered by anything. She was always in control.
It was my turn to add a little more adversity into her otherwise perfect student routine.
Major Jareck came up to us, his lips set in a vicious line as he stared at me. “In case you weren’t listening earlier,” he said to me and not Nia, “there are a few rules. No eye gouging, hair pulling, or shots below the belt. Even though in a life or death situation, those would be permitted, but here, we play things safe and by the books. You got me?”
I nodded. I’d been paying attention the entire time, but he knew what kind of student Nia was. I was still the unknown yokel boy. Safe and by the books? I wanted to scoff. So we’d be playing to Nia’s strengths, but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t much of a hair puller or eye gouger, though I’ll admit that I’ve kicked my fair share of crotches. Still, I could restrain myself.
Jareck turned away and retreated to his high chair, where he would referee the fight. He picked up the small brass bell at his side and gave it a ring. “Begin.”
We circled each other. Nia’s eyes narrowed with concentration. She took deep breaths and had her fists up in a very formal but effective style. Legs shoulder width apart, shoulders squared. She was trained, that was for sure. I had no doubt that she was a very skilled opponent. Sure, I wasn’t good at swords or guns, and only moderately successful in archery, but hand-to-hand bare-knuckles brawls? That was my forte. Other than summoning, of course.
Nia wouldn’t attack though, she was too careful to make the first move. I anticipated that, and I didn’t mind setting the tone.
I kept my fists up and arms loose as I eased into her space. I threw a couple of punches and she dodged them easily as I’d thought. I backed off; her turn. She jabbed twice, fast as can be, but I blocked with my forearms easily enough. Immediately following the second jab, she brought an uppercut, but I was fast, and she was more confident than she needed to be. I caught the fist, pushed down on it, and used my momentum to launch a twirling kick at her. She dodged at the last second, my foot missing her head, but I connected with her shoulder and sent her sprawling.
