Path of the Specialist

by Pedro Urvi

  He went on moving, searching for some way out of the ambush. Suddenly Engla appeared to his right with an enormous leap. Isgord raised his bow as though by reflex and released against her in the blink of an eye. The shot buried itself in a small shield she was wearing on her right forearm. With her right hand she threw a small dagger at him, rolled aside and disappeared behind the trees. Isgord hurled his body to one side, and the dagger brushed his ear. He nocked again at once and looked left and right. The coast was clear. He went on quickly but warily. Engla appeared before him and rolled across the ground. Isgord aimed at the ground, calculated the trajectory of the Elder’s movement and released. The arrow hit her shield, and she disappeared again. Two daggers hurtled toward his chest. In an exceptionally nimble movement, he turned to show his profile, and the two daggers brushed his chin.

  He went on walking, and suddenly saw Ivar in the distance. He realized that he was too far away to reach him with his short bow, so that he had to change weapons. He was just beginning the movement when Ivar released, and he saw the arrow heading straight for his chest.

  “He’s got him!” cried Ingrid.

  Isgord finished his changeover the moment the arrow was about to hit him. He blocked it with his short bow, then dropped it. He took the compound bow and aimed at Ivar, but Ivar was no longer there.

  “I can’t believe it, he got out of it!”

  “Or rather, he coped with that pretty well,” Viggo corrected her.

  Isgord went on walking. By now he was almost out of the forest. Ivar appeared behind a clump of bushes, and Isgord released at once. His arrow flew toward the Elder, who crouched with cat-like agility and the arrow passed close to his head. Isgord nocked again and went on walking to the end of the forest. Ivar appeared beside a tree and released, but Isgord saw him and released at the same moment. The arrows crossed. Isgord somersaulted, and the arrow failed to touch him. Ivar took shelter behind a tree, and the arrow grazed his arm.

  Isgord came out of the forest with an arrow ready in his bow.

  “Test completed!” Sigrid announced.

  Isgord stared at her. He lowered his bow, puffed out his chest like a peacock and went back to the Lair.

  “Hell!” Ingrid cried furiously.

  “Just as I said, he’s a cretin through and through, but he’s really good,” Viggo said judiciously.

  Lasgol knew that this outcome was bad news as far as he himself was concerned.

  And then came Ingrid’s turn.

  “You’ll make it!” Astrid said encouragingly.

  Ingrid nodded. She looked at Viggo, who gave her a look of confidence and strength. His eyes shone, and she nodded. “I’ll do it!”

  Lasgol gave her an encouraging slap on the shoulder.

  She went down to meet Sigrid and confront her personal fate. She was wearing the gear of an Archer of the Wind: two bows slung on her back, one short and the other tiny, both of them special, borrowed from Elder Ivar. Ingrid called the tiny one Punisher, and Viggo was always teasing her about it. Ingrid looked after those two bows as if they were her own children.

  Sigrid greeted her courteously, but her expression was serious.

  “The test is simple but difficult, like the Path of the Specialist. Particularly for you, because you’ve chosen the most complicated of the Elite Specializations of Archery.”

  “I understand, Mother Specialist.”

  “Remember everything you’ve learnt. Concentrate. Show us your skills. Once you’ve finished, go back to the Lair.”

  “Yes, Mother Specialist.”

  “Ready, Archer of the Wind?”

  “Ready.”

  Sigrid made a sign to Ingrid, who turned around to see Ivar waiting for her, armed with a sword and a Norghanian round shield with a target painted on it.

  “She’s going to have to fight hand-to-hand with the Elder,” said Astrid, sounding worried.

  “When it’s one-to-one, a single mistake and it’s over,” Luca pointed out.

  “And against Master Ivar,” Erika added uneasily.

  Lasgol was very worried about Ingrid. Then he remembered all the times when they had triumphed thanks to her, and he relaxed. If anybody could do it, it was her.

  Ivar nodded to her, and she did the same. It was going to be close combat. Calmly, she left the short bow on the ground and nocked Punisher with a short arrow. She flexed her legs.

  Ivar attacked, like lightning. He moved forward with a thrust at her stomach. Ingrid moved aside swiftly and fluidly. The sword met only empty air. She released, and the arrow hit the center of the shield. Ivar spun around and launched a stroke at her face. She stepped back as if she were floating over the snow, then nocked again, released in one fluid movement and hit the center of the shield. The Elder attacked with a deceptive feint, his sword seeking her right thigh. She moved to the left and threw her body back in anticipation of his next move, which was a slash at her neck. The sword brushed her chin. She released and hit dead center again.

  “Ingrid’s amazing!” Luca said enthusiastically.

  Viggo nodded. “She certainly is.” He was watching the fight admiringly.

  “Her fluidity and balance are impressive,” said Astrid.

  “And she doesn’t miss a single shot,” Lasgol added.

  “And at such close quarters,” Erika said in amazement.

  Ingrid somersaulted to one side and put some distance between herself and her rival. She needed to be three paces away to be able to use Punisher and avoid the Elder reaching her. Ivar attacked, putting more pressure on her, with faster moves and more complex attacks. But she seemed untouchable. She moved as if she were gliding over the snow, always an instant before she was hit, and distanced herself so that she could counterattack. All her shots hit the target.

  And then, when it looked as though she was going to make it, the test took a turn for the worse.

  “Uh-oh, now things are getting complicated,” Astrid said. She pointed to Engla and Gisli, who were approaching. They were armed.

  “Oh no...” Lasgol felt that Ingrid had no options left, but then he remembered that she never gave up.

  “Go, Ingrid!” Viggo shouted at her at the top of his voice, with a shout that could have been heard across the whole valley.

  Both new Elders were carrying swords and shields identical to Elder Ivar’s. The three now surrounded her, so that she had no escape-route. They closed in slowly until they were only four paces from her. She watched them with her weapon at the ready, turning on the spot. Gisli was the first to attack. He charged straight at Ingrid, who released and at the same time stepped sideways in a dazzling move. Gisli went past her like an enraged bear, and her arrow hit the center of his shield. Ivar seized his opportunity and attacked with a stab to her back. But she glimpsed it out of the corner of her eye and rolled as far as the position Gisli had vacated. She finished the movement and nocked her bow, then turned to find Ivar on top of her. She released and rolled over her head twice to the right without losing her bow. Ivar was too far away, but she nocked, released, and hit him again. She rolled over once more, because Engla was coming down on her with a tremendous leap.

  “She won’t be able to deal with all three of them,” Luca pointed out.

  “Trust her,” Astrid said.

  Lasgol felt that it was getting more complicated all the time, but he did not give up hope.

  Engla, Gisli and Ivar attacked more quickly and aggressively. Ingrid held her ground and counterattacked with dazzling moves, but evading the attacks of the three Elders was too much for anyone. She was beginning to be very tired, and her movements were slowing down. The snow was falling more heavily now.

  “Last round!” Sigrid announced.

  Ingrid was in the middle, one knee down, bow at the ready, trying to fill her lungs with air and give a moment’s respite to her legs and arms, which were killing her. The three Elders surrounded her, so that she looked like a wounded panther attacked by three old wolves intent on finishing her.<
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  “Keep your spirits up, Ingrid!” Lasgol shouted to her.

  Gisli attacked with a swift movement, launching a sword-thrust to her chest. She rolled to the right, put one knee on the ground, released, and hit him in the follow-through of his attack. Before she could nock again, Ivar came at her with a two-handed stroke to her head. She rolled to the left twice, got to her feet and charged. Ivar’s sword was coming straight at her face and she had neither the time nor the strength to move. She whipped her head to one side and the sword went past her, brushing her temple as it did so. She kicked at the shield and rolled backwards with the same impulse, finished the movement and released. She hit Ivar.

  “One more!” Viggo shouted at her.

  Engla somersaulted forward so that Ingrid could not release, and ended the movement with a tremendous leap, so that she fell on Ingrid from the sky. Unable to move, she fell backwards, but as she fell, she released. Her arrow hit Engla’s shield at the same moment as she fell on top of her.

  “Test completed!” Sigrid announced.

  “Did she make it?” Astrid asked.

  “I don’t know,” Viggo said. He sounded worried.

  Engla got up and checked her shield, then helped Ingrid get up. After that Ingrid went slowly back to the Lair. She was exhausted. Her friends shouted and cheered as she went. They could not tell whether she had passed or not, but she had done incredibly well.

  The next one to be called was Bjorn, Elemental Archer. And with him died the joy and the good feelings that enveloped the group. He did not pass the test, and had to withdraw to the Lair knowing that he was beaten.

  And once again, fear clutched at everybody’s heart.

  Chapter 45

  After Archery came the Nature Tests, which were truly unusual. Nobody expected them to be that, and there were some surprised and puzzled faces. The tests for this Specialty would last three whole days, which left everybody open-mouthed. What had seemed the least difficult specialty of all was turning out to be the hardest and most demanding.

  Sigrid sent Sugesen to the northern woods, with only a Ranger’s blanket and knife. He had to survive naked for three days in the forest without leaving it and wait to be summoned back. This was the Forest Survivor test. When Lasgol looked up, he saw that the sky was threatening a winter storm. Sugesen would have to find shelter somehow or else freeze to death. He felt terrible for him. He asked the Ice Gods to have mercy on him and to avoid sending a particularly violent storm. But the Gods, as usual, were not listening. Sugesen left in the midst of the storm, and everyone wanted to see him come back alive.

  Nor was Gonars much luckier. The test for Forest Trapper was almost as complicated as Sugesen’s. He had to go into the forest at the end of the valley and then, using the special types of traps he knew how to prepare, hunt for three days and nights and come back with his catch. Not only the quantity but the quality of the catch would be assessed. Sigrid recommended that he should capture a great predator without wounding it. Panther or bear would be the most highly valued. If he failed to capture them without a scratch, he would not pass. Gonars left with all his traps slung over his back, but with no bow. Lasgol, who would have loved to be a trapper, wished him all the luck in the world. He was going to need it.

  Nor was the Expert Herbalist Test for Elina any simpler. Sigrid gave her till nightfall of the third day to search for a long list of plants and roots. All of these were very difficult to locate, but Sigrid guaranteed that she could find them in the valley of the Shelter, even though she did not specify which direction to choose, and the valley was huge. Elina sighed, and her expression was despairing. The problem was that the whole landscape was covered in snow. It was going to be hellish finding what was required, and even more so with the approaching storm, which might last several days. Lasgol was aware that he himself would not be able to manage it, but Elina, who was both smart and studious, would know where to search.

  Sigrid now called Frida, and what she did left everybody astonished. She gave her a potion, which Frida swallowed without thinking. When she had finished, Sigrid told her it was a poison. She had three days to find the ingredients and prepare the antidote, or else she would die, or be injured for life. Lasgol was horrified by the test for Healer Guard, but Sigrid’s logic was that in real life many lives would depend on Frida being able to find the ingredients needed for healing potions and antidotes. Hence this test was only a small sample of what she would have to face. Except for the fact that it was not other people’s lives which were at stake but her own. Frida accepted it, and with a backpack containing several tomes on Nature, she set off toward the north in the snow.

  They had to wait until nightfall for the Expertise test. Engla announced that it would consist of night tests, since this would be when these Specialists would mainly operate. So they waited for the first night to come with great impatience. The weather was getting worse, and the snow and the cold were beginning to make their effect felt harshly in flesh and bone. They were not allowed to go back to the Shelter and had to wait under cover of the oak-wood to the east, where the wind was not so strong. Spirits were low, and although Astrid and Erika tried to raise them, Viggo, Luca, Lasgol and the others were not particularly cheerful, quite apart from being nervous and restless.

  At midnight Sigrid called Astrid for her test. She took a deep breath, gathered together her gear and got herself ready. She looked at Lasgol and breathed out tensely.

  He tried to encourage her, although he could feel a knot in his stomach, thinking about the fate she was about to meet.

  “Easy as falling off a log,” Viggo said to her. His expression said that for her, the test would be exactly that.

  Astrid smiled at both, grateful for the encouragement, and left. Sigrid greeted her with half-closed eyes.

  “The tests for the Specialty of Expertise are always complicated, and that of Assassin of Nature in particular. Only the best-prepared can pass it.”

  “I will, Mother Specialist,” Astrid said with conviction.

  “I certainly hope so, my young pupil. I wish you luck. You’re going to need it.”

  Astrid nodded in acknowledgement.

  “Go into the forest, follow the lit-up path and locate the three targets. Neutralize them. They’ll be tough ones.”

  Astrid nodded again. “Understood.”

  “Ready, Assassin of Nature?”

  “Ready.”

  “Go.”

  Very slowly, Astrid approached the path that crossed the forest. As Sigrid had said, it was only faintly lit, enough to make out the path in the black night, but not much more than that. She was armed with her three sets of knives – although they were marking ones, not the lethal ones – and her Assassin of Nature’s belt, where she carried all her compounds already mixed.

  Instead of going along the path, she hid on the left within the trees and followed it from inside the forest. She went on, taking care not to meet any unwanted surprises. The snow was falling heavily now, and the wind whipped the trees with an icy touch. Instead of the usual black attire for this type of mission, she had opted for white, which would help her blend into the snow-covered vegetation. Engla had let them choose their equipment according to preference, and she and Viggo had chosen the winter version: white with brown spots, including gloves and scarf. Crouching among the underbrush, covered in snow, she was like a winter ghost moving stealthily, unseen.

  Suddenly she saw a light that was brighter and more dancing. Twenty paces or so away, sheltering in the forest, someone was resting beside a pleasant fire. She stopped and crouched behind a tree to observe. The figure had its back to her, warming itself by the fire. There was nobody else around. First target. She took a step, making sure she made no sound. She let the wind, which was blowing from the east, whip her face. The target was to the north. If she approached from the southwest, the wind ought not to give her away. She began her approach very carefully from that angle. The crucial part was to avoid being spotted as she came closer
.

  She stepped forward a few paces with extreme caution, making sure the wind did not change suddenly and reveal her. She was crouching ten paces away from the figure when something struck her as strange. Why did it have its back to her? It would have been more intelligent to sit facing the path to see who was coming from there, from the east, and to some extent those approaching from either north or south. Yet the figure was facing north, ignoring the other directions.

  She took another step and stopped. It was too easy; there was something fishy going on here. She dropped to the ground and was about to begin crawling like a snake when something caught her eye: something sticking out in the snow ahead of her. She unsheathed her long knives and dug one into the snow until it touched whatever it was. She heard a metallic sound as it made contact.

  “Hell!” she muttered under her breath. “It’s a trap.”

  She looked around. At first, she could not see anything. She moved a little to the west and stopped when a small snow-covered mound caught her attention. Very carefully she put her knife in to check, and once again it touched metal.

  “Another trap!”

  Now she understood why the target was sitting peacefully looking toward the north. It had set traps behind it, inviting the unwary to come close and fall into them. She realized that she needed to change her plan. She could not start deactivating the traps, because the risk of triggering one at night, in the snow and with that icy wind, was too great. She decided to go around and attack from the front, as the back was sown with traps.

  She crawled warily, going some way around in order to avoid all the possible traps, and began to approach from the north, coming down to the south toward the target. Ten paces away she stopped. The figure was staring at the fire, with a short sword on one side and a torch in its hand. It was drinking from a bottle of what was sure to be strong liquor.

  She would have to close in fast and perform a distracting maneuver, as though she had not yet been spotted, if she went on whoever it was would see her sooner or later. She searched in the belt for a flask which contained a special compound and waited patiently for the right moment. The figure took a swig from the bottle. It was the moment. From the ground she threw the flask in an arc. It fell into the fire and shattered with the sound of broken glass. The figure stood up. From the flask came a misty cloud, which turned into a thick fog and enveloped it.