Path of the Specialist

by Pedro Urvi

“Yes, Ma’am, I will.”

  “I’ll come back at first light. We’ll repeat this exercise, with air knives. I expect you to have improved by then.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Viggo said humbly.

  Ingrid was smiling from ear to ear. “What a lesson in humility she’s given him.”

  “He won’t be able to improve enough in one afternoon and night,” Molak said.

  “The best thing of all is that he knows that. He’ll get another beating. He’s earned it for being a dumbass.”

  “Don’t be like that, Ingrid,” Lasgol said.

  “Don’t defend him, you know as well as I do that he deserves it.”

  “Yeah... but even so...”

  “No, let him suffer.”

  Molak shook his head. “We’d better be off.”

  Lasgol watched his friend begin repeating the set of defensive movements amid grunts of pain. He hoped that at the end of the year both Viggo and Astrid would make it. He knew that Astrid would sell her soul to get the elite specialty. Her devotion and fierceness were unequaled among her colleagues. Viggo on the other hand was a different kind of animal. Viggo was Viggo... and Lasgol had serious doubts as to whether he would manage to graduate: more so after witnessing the lesson Engla had just taught him. He very much wished that his friend would succeed; reaching the threshold and then being shut out would be a terrible thing. Viggo would not take it at all well, he was absolutely sure. It would be a massive blow to his ego, and Viggo’s ego was sensitive and extremely complicated.

  He closed his eyes. Let’s hope they both pass the test,

  Chapter 14

  The days were hard as a result of all the training they were getting and flew by in no time. The biggest problem was that of getting enough rest to be able to carry on the following day with renewed energy. Often that was not what happened. And if there were several days in a row which involved more effort than rest, exhaustion would appear during the period of instruction, to be followed by mistakes and frustration. Luckily, from time to time they had some good news that raised their spirits.

  That morning Lasgol joined Ingrid, who was chatting with Molak and Erika in the Cave of Spring while they prepared breakfast. He went up behind her without interrupting their conversation, which was lively. Erika was laughing and Molak was mimicking trying to catch a fish in the river without success.

  “We’ve got a visitor...” Lasgol whispered in Ingrid’s ear, almost imperceptibly.

  She did not turn around.

  “I’m going to find Viggo. See you at our usual place.”

  Ingrid gave a slight nod and went on listening to the conversation.

  Lasgol found Viggo crouching in the shadows at the entrance to the Cave of Winter, trying to see what was inside.

  “We’ve been told it’s forbidden to go in there,” Lasgol said accusingly.

  Viggo turned around. “And since when have I cared about a prohibition?”

  “You’ll get into trouble. Mother Specialist isn’t the sort of person to let this kind of thing go by, and you know she has a character all of her own...”

  “Yeah, you can say that again. Half nice grandmother, half snow ogre.”

  “I wouldn’t describe her like that... but – well, she is quite colorful, yes.”

  Viggo nodded toward the Cave of Winter. “I want to know what’s in there.”

  “Just let it be.”

  “They must have some very interesting things in there...”

  “I’m not saying they don’t, but they’re not for our eyes.”

  “We’ll see about that...”

  “Viggo...”

  But his friend simply shrugged and put on his I can’t help myself look. Lasgol decided not to insist. There were times when his friend was a real pain.

  “We’ve got a visitor.”

  “Haven’t seen anybody new.”

  “He’s come from the sky.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  “Come on then. I’ve told Ingrid already.”

  They left the Lair and headed to the lake where Lasgol had trained Milton to wait for him. The beautiful bird was there, perched on the low branch of an oak.

  “Milton, my old mate!” Viggo said, smiling and looking exaggeratedly friendly. He reached out to pet him.

  At once Milton clicked his beak and pecked him on the hand.

  “Hey!”

  “You definitely don’t hit it off with our dear Milton.”

  “He’s an avian rodent.”

  Milton clicked his beak.

  “Don’t say things like that to him.”

  “Yeah, as if he could understand me.”

  “I really think he does understand in a way...”

  “How can he possibly understand? It’s just that he’s jealous of my overwhelming personality.”

  Suddenly they heard a loud guffaw. They turned and saw Ingrid, who was laughing as she came towards them.

  “Every day the things you say get stupider and stupider.”

  “Hard-hitting truths are what I say.”

  “Yeah, you surpass yourself day by day, and that’s a pretty hard task you set yourself, but I have to admit, you always manage to go one further.”

  “That’s another of my many gifts.”

  “I’m sure it is. Now we’d better see what news Milton has brought us, ’cause we’ve got to get back to training.”

  Lasgol went over to Milton, smiling. The arguments between Viggo and Ingrid always cheered him up. He had noticed that lately they were not as fierce as before, even though both were trying hard to make it look as if they really felt what they said and that they hated each other. Lasgol knew this was not true, and it was gradually becoming more and more obvious, however hard they might try to conceal it.

  The beautiful bird had no problem in letting Lasgol take the message from its leg.

  “So, you let him do it, eh? I’m going to pluck you bare!”

  “Leave Milton alone,” Ingrid said. “If you treat him like that, he’s never going to let you near him.”

  Milton hooted aggressively and stared at Viggo with his large eyes. He was not intimidated.

  “Well then, I won’t go near him, and that’s that. I don’t like that crosspatch of an owl either.”

  “Sure, great solution. And what if he comes one day when neither of us is here?”

  “Well then, he’d better give me the message or else I’ll put him in a cage.”

  Milton hooted again, this time still louder.

  “Look what you’re doing!”

  “Scrawny flying rodent!”

  Milton took flight and brushed Viggo’s head with his claws before soaring up into the sky.

  Viggo crouched, then turned around to see the bird leave. “I’ll pluck you and put you in a cage! You just wait and see!”

  Lasgol shook his head. “You really are unbearable,” he said in despair.

  “I’m charming. It’s the owl that’s a pain.”

  Ingrid made a face at him. “Let him be, he’s hopeless. He’ll always be a pain in the backside. Who’s the message from?”

  Lasgol recognized the handwriting. “It’s from Nilsa.”

  “Oh, good! What does she say?”

  “I’ll read it to you: Hello there, partners! Greetings from the capital of the realm! You have no idea how much I miss you. It feels so strange not being with you, having you around like before. You take it for granted that your friends will always be with you, then life steps in and takes you away from them. I can only imagine the adventures you must be having at the Shelter, and above all the things you must be learning. That makes me really envious. I can already see Ingrid learning new archery techniques, and I bet she’s the best of all the aspiring specialists by far.”

  “The best at ordering us around,” Viggo muttered. “Nothing else.”

  “Shut up, dumbass, Nilsa knows what she’s saying.”

  “Only because she’s your best friend and follows you everywhere like a lapdo
g.”

  “A lapdog who can put an arrow right through your heart at three hundred paces.”

  Viggo acknowledged this with a gesture. “True, the lapdog can bite hard. Our freckled redhead has an enviable long-distance shot.”

  “So don’t mess with her.”

  “Then I’ll mess with you,” he said to her with a teasing wink.

  “Don’t even think about it!”

  “But Nilsa’s wrong, you’re not the best...”

  “What do you mean by that?” Ingrid interrupted him, looking furious.

  “I’d say she is,” Lasgol said. He wanted peace so that he could go on reading the message.

  “You’re wrong, there’s someone better.”

  Ingrid folded her arms. “Who’s better than me?” she asked with a frown.

  “It’s obvious...”

  “Who? Molak?”

  “Captain Fantastic? No, not him.” Viggo gave a shrug which implied that Molak was not even worth considering.

  “Well, if not him, then who?”

  “Astrid?” Lasgol suggested.

  “She’s very good, agreed, but there’s someone even better.”

  Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “Let’s hear it, then, who?”

  “Yours truly,” Viggo said, pointing both thumbs at his chest.

  Ingrid burst out laughing. Lasgol could not help himself, though he tried, and ended up doing the same.

  Viggo was unfazed by this. He bore the laughter as if it did not affect him at all. “One day you’ll realize,” he said in a dignified voice.

  “Yeah, sure,” Ingrid said. She patted him on the shoulder. “No question.”

  “Shall I go on reading?” Lasgol asked when he had recovered.

  “Sure, go ahead, before this guy here kills us with laughter at another of his ideas.”

  Viggo ignored the comment.

  Lasgol went on: “Well, I miss you terribly, I just wanted you to know. Things are going better for me in the capital. It seems that Gondabar has gotten used to me, to the way I am... It could also be that I’ve got a little better, I’m not so clumsy as before. I think it’s got a lot to do with my nerves. Now I’m less nervous. Before, everything was new and exciting: the big city, the royal castle, the nobles, the King, the Court, Gondabar and the Royal Rangers, not to mention Sven and Gatik who are really serious and intimidating. Now I come to think about it, nearly all of them are intimidating. I’ve barely met anybody pleasant in the palace. Luckily Gondabar doesn’t intimidate me so much, I must have gotten used to him. He’s more severe than Dolbarar, but deep down I think he has a good heart. At least, that’s my feeling about him. He used to yell at me a lot at the beginning. Well, because I got terribly nervous with him and I dropped things or I knocked them over, either when I had to help him or when I was running his errands... anyway, I’ve improved a lot. Well, I’m still a bit clumsy, but not so much in comparison... I wanted to tell you this so you can be proud of me.”

  “I’ll always be proud of you,” Ingrid said with a sweet smile, which was a rare thing in her.

  Viggo shook his head. “I won’t believe it till I see it.”

  “I’m sure that after that first impression, she’ll be doing perfectly well now,” Lasgol said.

  “I doubt it. She was born clumsy and she’ll die clumsy.”

  “But her clumsiness is mostly because of her nerves,” Lasgol said. “Once she’s not so nervous, she does much better.”

  Viggo smiled maliciously. “I’d have liked to have seen her when she first arrived in the city.”

  “Don’t be nasty,” Lasgol said reproachfully. “Poor thing, she must have had a terrible time at first. As she says, it was all new for her. Imagine living in the palace, with the court around you, the King and his brother, and serving Gondabar our leader. She must have been incredibly nervous.”

  Viggo smiled. “That’s why I’d have loved to see it. All those accidents...” He rubbed his hands gleefully.

  “Messing with her means you’re going to have an accident,” Ingrid said threateningly.

  “She’ll have got used to the situation and the surroundings by now,” Lasgol said. “She’ll be doing much better.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Ingrid agreed confidently.

  “Yeah, sure she is...” Viggo said, not confident in the least.

  Lasgol went on reading: “In fact I’m very well now. Gondabar has named me as his liaison and personal messenger. I spend my days carrying messages and orders all over the capital and the cities and forts nearby. At first he sent me so that he wouldn’t have me around, because of my constant accidents... but as I’m fast and can look after myself on my own if there’s any incident, I think now he sends me because of my own qualities. He trusts me. Also, because he knows me better by now and I think he likes me. I make him laugh, which is very unusual for him. Well, for anyone here, quite honestly. It seems that a smile or a laugh would be punished.”

  “This I can believe of her,” Viggo said.

  “That she makes Gondabar laugh?” Lasgol asked.

  Viggo nodded. “I had a blast with her.”

  “You’re going to get what for,” Ingrid threatened him.

  Viggo ignored her threats. “Keep reading, Lasgol, I want to know what else she says.”

  “The good thing about being a messenger is that I see everything that goes on and I find out about things. The situation in the capital is changing. There are more and more soldiers, both in the barracks and in camps south of the city. Also, militias are arriving from different cities and villages in the east. They’re peasants, miners, fishermen, that the nobles send from their counties for military training in the capital. I’ve spoken to several of them, the poor things, they’re scared to death. They arm and train them for war, but none of them wants to fight. And judging by the way they’re trained, I don’t think they’ll be very well prepared by the time they go into battle. Their training is nothing like the kind we get. I thank the Ice Gods every day for the good fortune of having gone to the Camp to be trained, most of all in the current situation. The King is forcibly enlisting everybody who’s old enough. They’re given an axe, a shield, and some armor – and then he expects them to fight to the death. And not only that, he’s also recruiting mercenaries. According to what the Royal Rangers have told me, the King has gold and silver he’s using to buy foreign soldiers. No less than Nocean mercenaries, from the deep deserts of the south of Tremia.”

  “Mercenaries,” Ingrid said. “You can’t trust them. My aunt used to tell me a mercenary can fight with you one day and against you the next, depending on who paid better. They have no honor or morals. They’ll commit atrocities. They’re despicable.”

  “Then they’ll fit in perfectly with our King and the eastern court,” Viggo commented ironically.

  “It puts Arnold and the Western League at a disadvantage,” Lasgol said uneasily. “They don’t have as much gold.”

  “That’s not good for Egil and his brother,” Viggo added.

  “And Noceans of all people,” Ingrid said. “The Noceans are as dangerous as they are clever. Never turn your back on a Nocean or you’ll find a dagger in it, my aunt used to say.”

  “Yeah, I haven’t heard very good things about the Noceans with their tanned skin, black eyes and jet-black curly hair either,” Viggo said. “Good with scimitars and curved daggers. Not very tall or strong compared to us Norghanians, but very astute and slippery... I’ve also heard they have ebony-skinned women who are beautiful and utterly irresistible. They know some incredibly sensuous dances... or so I’ve heard...”

  “You hear too much,” Ingrid snapped at him. She did not seem at all happy with his comments about the beauty and sensuality of the Nocean women.

  “My father told me,” Lasgol said, “that the history of the Nocean Empire is truly fascinating. They’ve managed to unite hundreds of small desert tribes and the south of Tremia under one flag after thousands of years of fighting and strife.”


  “A bloodstained flag,” Ingrid said. “The unification of the Empire was something its emperors achieved through bloodshed and conquest. The tribes which didn’t join were conquered and assimilated. The whole south of Tremia is a conquered territory that lives under the yoke of the current Emperor Mulisan, and his successor Malota is being groomed to carry on with his father’s legacy of blood and conquest.”

  Lasgol nodded. “Yes, that’s what my father told me. It’s taken them centuries to create the empire and conquer the entire South, but now the Nocean flag flies wherever you look in the south of Rogdon.”

  “For the moment... My aunt always said that the Kingdoms of the West and North needed to mind their step, or else it wouldn’t take long for the Nocean armies to absorb them.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Viggo said.

  “Let’s hope,” Lasgol agreed. He went on reading: “While the King is preparing and arming his army to attack the Western League and destroy Arnold and his allies, all kind of rumors are circulating through the capital and its surroundings. There’s a lot of talk about the Zangrians. The Royal Rangers have told me there’s a real and very high risk at the moment, and that they could attack Norghana if they see the King as weakened. They say it’s happened before. There’s also talk of the Wild People of the Frozen Continent moving, regaining their lands in the north of Norghana now that they’re unprotected. The Rangers have confirmed this. The King isn’t going to send his army north, he wants to destroy Arnold first. That’s what the Royal Rangers say, though it’s just guesswork, because nobody really knows Thoran’s plans.”

  “I don’t think he’ll split his forces,” Ingrid said. “The Shifter did that, and he almost lost the war. He won’t go north. Not until he’s secured the realm and finished with the West.”

  “Yeah, I think the same,” Viggo agreed.

  “I’m worried about the West,” Lasgol said.

  Ingrid tried to put his mind at ease. “They’re good fighters, and Arnold’s intelligent.”

  “They have fewer men and resources...”

  “But they have good allies,” Viggo said. He winked at Lasgol, who felt grateful for these words of support and went on reading: “I wanted to tell you all this, but most of all something else. Something that’s made me very nervous and won’t let me sleep. It happened yesterday. I’d come back from a messaging mission for Gondabar, and after I’d left my horse in the royal stables I went to report to my lord. The Royal Rangers at the palace know me by now, so they let me come and go without too much trouble. I was walking past the royal library when I heard voices. I was surprised, because there’s never anybody in the library, it’s the most deserted place in the castle. Egil would clap his hands to his head to see the number of books there are and how few people want to make use of them. I’ve been told that the Ice Magi use it for their studies, but right now they’re gathered together at the White Tower, the four who are still alive after the war. It seems that only one veteran Ice Mage survived, Eicewald, and he’s training three young Magi as fast as he can. They say this is one of the reasons why Thoran is delaying his attack on the West. He wants to have four Ice Magi with him. Well, at least that’s what they’re saying... here everything is rumor and guesswork... it seems the Court is like that. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you. As I was saying, I heard a conversation in the library and I was intrigued, so I stopped to listen. I know I shouldn’t... but I was surprised to find people there, and curiosity took over. You know me... clumsy and curious... So I listened. And now I can’t sleep because of what I heard. I didn’t recognize the voices as they were speaking in whisper, so that nobody would be able to hear them, but luckily my hearing is very good. The voices sounded familiar, so I must know them, but for the life of me I couldn’t find out who they were. Well, what’s really important is what they said. Because it concerns you all. It concerns you, Lasgol.”