Authors: Andrew Wood
Chapter 3.
After having lunch with Sarena, Caldar and Vanessa, Luken and Taylor walked down the main street. It was a glorious warm summer's day, and the heat of the sun could be felt on his skin. Numerous buildings were being worked on, and a number of people waved or bowed before the young man to whom they owed their lives. It had not taken long for the word to spread, the story of how the Prince Luken had all but single handed, obliterated the enemy forces attacking them. As such, for the first time in his life, he realised he was actually now recognised by everybody. Often he would have roamed Hamalin, and if not for the fact a guard was with him, nobody would know who he was.
Work was taking place on both sides of the street, houses, business premises being built or trenches being dug for the long clay pipes to be laid, for taking sewerage to the river. People though took time to acknowledge him as he passed, and Taylor revelled in the popularity, keenly returning a wave and smile whenever it was given. Even though he had been adopted off the streets, the people had taken to his son warmly. Despite being probably the single most powerful man in Corlan, Luken was still afforded two of the new Royal Guard. One walked a few paces to the front, the other similarly behind.
The guards at the city gate stood to attention as he passed through the archway, and out onto the road. Off in the distance to the south, he could see the camp set up for the new recruits being trained under the tutorage of his friend Jak Corley. Nearer still was the large patch of blackened earth, and it still made him feel queasy at the thought of him being the one that had caused it. Moreover, it was the fact he had ended the lives of hundreds, possibly thousands, of men in a matter of seconds, and though that thought bothered him, he took some solace knowing it had needed to be done.
They found the elderly man Dagon, sitting peacefully by the riverside, soaking up the summer sun's rays. He looked up as they approached, and Taylor was quick to point out the redness of his bulbous nose. Luken tried to hush him, but Dagon did not take the mockery to heart and gestured for them to sit beside him. This would be the first time Luken was to use his powers, since the battle that almost cost him his own life. Though it was no great secret Dagon thought the young prince an utter buffoon, it had been that very man, who had sat at his bedside, aiding him in his recovery.
He started by telling Luken of his recent discussions with the old man Sandred, that was allegedly about seven hundred years old, and resided on the Isle of Kelan. As Luken aged, using his gift would apparently cause much less problems. At seventeen, though soon it would be eighteen, his body was still growing, and not yet at full capacity. Hence using large amounts of power, as he did at the battle, drained away his own life force. Apparently, to wield such a force was not without its limits, and doing so meant you risked expending your own life entirely.
Dagon came up with a plan for Luken to practice using small amounts of power, at least until his body could get used to it. Today the lesson was earth, a first for him, at least one while he had been in control. Using his fingers to try to control the amount of force used, as Dagon had taught him previously, he focused on a small spot some ten paces from where they sat. At a flick of his finger, the ground sunk down about a foot or so, as if he had dug an instant hole in the ground. Taylor looked impressed, and probably just as importantly so did Dagon.
Next he was to make it go the other way, this time make it a mound of earth. For some inexplicable reason though, he only managed to make the hole another foot deeper. Dagon gave him a frown, "concentrate boy, you let your mind wander to easily." Luken nodded, and despite wanting to tell the man he was a miserable old git, he started re-focussing and attempted the procedure once more. This time it worked as planned, and after a couple of waves of his finger, a small mound of earth stood before them.
Whilst focusing Luken could feel the power surging through his body, it was so difficult not to release more than he needed. It had been this difficulty, which had almost cost him his life on more than one occasion. He had to learn to control it better. The use of waving his hands and fingers did in some way help control it, though he knew if he was not careful it could easily take control of him. For this very reason he had given orders to his two guards, that if such an occasion arose, where he was losing control, as he had done against Darak, or at the battle, they were to render him unconscious if need be.
His next task was to summon water up from the river, mixing it with the earth. He wanted things to improve between himself and Dagon so tried as hard as he could, and after only the second attempt, he had mastered it. The old man looked reasonably impressed, and nodded his approval. Leaning over and rummaging in his travel bag, Dagon took out a candle and lit it. "Now I want you to focus on that mud you made, think of it as a square. Then using the flame of the candle I want you to bake it."
Luken gave an exasperated look, using two powers together was daunting, using three was probably too far for his abilities. Not wanting to give reason for disapproval, he decided to go ahead and try. Using one hand, he lifted the mud like mixture up slightly, trying to think of it in a block shape. He was quite used to fire, though he had a tendency to use too much at times. With his other hand, he made the slightest of flicks with his fingers, and the flame from the candle roared outwards. "That should do it, you don't need too much," Dagon prodded him to make sure he knew it was enough.
Quickly letting go of all the power, he stood to go and examine his creation. It was not so much a block shape, more a sort of splat, though he guessed for his first attempt at using three powers in unison, it was not bad. "Four," Dagon said. Luken glanced to his direction, looking a little confused. "You used air as well, how else did you get the mud mixture to lift upwards," he explained. Luken smiled, he was better at this than he thought, and Taylor appeared impressed with his dad as well.
The lesson was pretty much over, just another lecture from Dagon on listening to what was being said, and concentrating on the things, he was supposed to. They did not want him to spend too much time wielding his powers, in case he was still suffering from his earlier exertions. Luken picked up and examined the object he had formed, and realised if he could get them big and the sides more square they would make ideal building bricks. He shrugged before deciding the best place for his splat was in the river, and duly tossed it in, the resulting splashing water landing over, the not very impressed Dagon.
Having completed his morning duties with General Skalton, and after having lunch, Levin trotted his horse southwards out of the city, heading towards the camp of new recruits. The boy, who was still only fourteen years old, scratched at his overly long and wild looking brown hair. Despite his young age, people had treated him as someone more mature, and had become highly thought of amongst his peers. Since losing his father and entire village to a Darekian attack in Lanber, he had been taken in by the Captain of the guard, Jak Corley.
His friend Jak had requested his presence, to aid him in teaching the latest batch of recruits. At first, he had not been so sure, after all these boys were all older and much bigger than he was, but Jak had reassured him he would be fine. He had come to think the older man as a fatherly figure, and quite enjoyed his company. Jak was still teaching him and refining his skills with a sword and as a result, he was now quite a proficient fighter.
As he approached, one or two of the new recruits glanced over to his direction, watching as he tied his horse to a post. Jak noticed him and walked over to greet him. After a quick briefing, Levin felt even more nervous. The Captain gave a loud shout, all the recruits stopped what they were doing, and he gestured for them to gather around. Levin puffed out his cheeks and took a deep breath as they all grouped up around him.
Jak spoke, "Right you lot, who of you thinks you are good enough with a sword? Step forward," he waited while a few took a pace nearer. Camden was going to join them, when Dane pulled him back, and whispered" don't, the Captain is going to make you fight the kid." Camden turned to him, "so?" he asked, not perceiving a problem. Dane pulled him nearer, "because that kid is wearing the tabard of the Elite guard, and I have watched him training every day for the last few weeks. You step forward, you're going to make yourself look a fool, trust me." Camden hesitated, before he conceded and remained put.
Jak firstly made the six who had keenly stepped forward fight against each other. One man, as tall as Camden easily beat them all, and had a very smug grin on his face. He turned to face his fellow recruits, and waved his wooden practice sword above his head, a few gave him a cheer. Dane whispered once more, "Now watch, I tell you that kid is going to whip his ass."
As Dane had surmised, Jak briefly praised the tall, dark haired man. "Yes, well done Patrick, now beat this young man," he gestured to Levin who had been standing quietly watching each fight. "Easy," the big man uttered, swinging his weapon about his head," bring it on small fry." Levin shrugged his shoulders and stepped forward, taking his stance and waiting for the big man to approach.
The recruits starting cheering with excitement, a few of whom, were shouting for Patrick to win, others were not quite so quick to voice their opinions. The larger man took a confident pace forward, and made a half-hearted lunge. Jak had already instructed Levin, not to take any mockery and finish the fight with as much haste as possible.
Quick as a flash, Levin knocked the weak attack aside. Before Patrick had chance to make a proper move, he struck his wooden sword across the larger man's hand, just as Jak had done to Camden earlier. Levin then continued by thrusting the rounded point into the gut area. The sword was not sharp enough to break the skin, but it did cause the man to double over in pain, and slump to the ground, as the wind had been quite clearly knocked out of him.
Camden turned to Dane, "thanks," he whispered, realising he had dodged a humiliating and by the looks of the man on the floor, a painful experience. "There you have it, another lesson to you all. Never under estimate your enemy," Jak shouted. "This great lummox here on the floor, thought just because he was twice the size of this lad, it was a foregone conclusion he would beat him easily. At least it appeared some of you were smart enough to know what I was going to do, and not step forward," he added, casting his eyes over to where Camden and Dane stood.
Patrick was in pain, and was angry at being made look a fool. He looked up at the others, all now ignoring him. His own wooden sword was just at arm's reach. Taking a deep breath, he made a grab for it, and threw himself upwards towards the unsuspecting Levin. The youngster though had been keeping a watchful eye on his opponent. Jak had always drilled him in not thinking your enemy was done, until at least you were certain he was dead. As this fight was only a training one, there was every chance Patrick would get back up.
The recruits turned as Patrick roared out, swinging his sword at the youngster who had just beaten him. Levin kept his cool, and realising the man was totally committed to his lunge forward, stepped casually aside, brought his own sword down, and clacked it across the back of the man's head. There was cloud of dust as Patrick thumped heavily to the ground, groaning. Jak turned to his favourite pupil, and smiled, "and let that be another lesson. Never assume your enemy is finished, just because you've put him down once."
After patting Levin on the back, Jak sent him on his way with a look of fatherly pride. Two of the guards helped Patrick; the big man leaning up against a post, nursing his wounds. The other recruits continued with their practice, as they had before. Jak walked amongst them, giving further words of encouragement, and noticing even at this early stage, some members already bonding with others.
Rowan, who was the lazy one during running, kept his eye on the captain, and each time he thought the man was looking, he made out he was busy swinging his sword. Jak was no fool, and had already clocked the shirker. This young man was clearly used to not doing any work, and one who was going to be punished if he continued.
After another break for refreshments, the recruits continued as before. Even Patrick was back on his feet and not quite as over confident and cocky as he was previously. Jak however had seen enough of one young man, and he pulled him to one side. "You must think me stupid, if for one moment you think I cannot tell what you are up to," he started. Rowan looked innocently at him, "you have done nothing but slouch all day, you did not run this morning and every time I turn my back you stop." The youngster shrugged, clearly not caring what the captain thought. "Right, I think I have had enough," Jak was now in no mood for shenanigans. He shouted for two guards, who duly obliged, "take him away, this one will learn the hard way."
Two burly men grabbed then youngster and dragged him toward the wooden building. "Where are you taking me?" he cried out, suddenly taking a care in what was happening. "You lot carry on, I want no messing around. As you are now an odd number, Dane you will be in charge." There were a few gasps and groans, none more so than from Dane himself. "Bloody hell" he uttered, thinking this was going to be awkward. He had already upset most of the group earlier that day, and he was more than certain that some amongst the group were going to make this new situation rather problematic.
Jak walked off, heading for the building in which Rowan had just been dragged in to. Once through the door, he sat at his desk, before looking up at the young man before him. Flanked either side by guards, Rowan realised he was not going to be getting out of this. "When you asked to join the army, did you not contemplate that you may have to work?" he did not wait for a reply. "I will not have anyone here that does not pull their weight. Every man needs to know he can rely on his comrades; you my young friend are a lazy, no-good lay about."