Kaavl Conspiracy (12 page)

“I couldn’t agree more. Seems we’ve been eating the same things for months.”

Methusal silently agreed. Supplies of grain and meat were all well and good, but variety would be awfully nice, too.

She spent the next two hours counting supplies for Sims. She also swiftly learned the layout of the upstairs supply room. Sacks of regular grain and wildberries did seem low; especially since she knew how much grain was necessary to make breakfast for the entire community each day. Barely a two month supply remained.

After she’d handed Sims the parchment with her tallies of the food supplies, she said, “Do we have enough food to last until the new grain grows?”

“That, my girl, is the question.” Sims slowly lowered himself onto a stool. He scanned her parchment. “Combined with the supplies downstairs, this should be enough, but just. I’ll be glad when the first crops come in.”

“Why is the grain so low? Is that normal for this time of year?”

“No. Last year the aptes multiplied faster than we could count. They ate a quarter of our crop. This year should be better. The aptes, just like everyone else, are suffering. And the crop tenders have created new traps. Those wily beasts won’t get the best of us this year.”

Although Methusal would rather save animals than kill them, she knew saving the grain crop was the priority. “We’ll get more fresh meat. Pelts, too.”

“That we will.” Sims glanced at the three large sacks resting against the far wall. “Barak will need the grain soon. Tomorrow you’ll finish sorting the seeds.”

“Fun.” Methusal grinned.

Sims smiled, too. “Off with you, then. You’re done for today.
I’m sure you’ve got lots to do, with the Games taking place tomorrow.”

Yes, she did. And first up—right after she grabbed a grain disc for lunch—was to set her risky plan into motion.

After a quick lunch,
Methusal headed for the Grand Staircase. The plan that had been fermenting in her head all morning now seemed rash. Her steps slowed. The Tri-Level Game was tomorrow. Maybe she shouldn’t take unnecessary chances. If Petr found out, he’d expel her, for sure.

“Methusal.” Kitran’s grave voice halted her steps. The flickering, reddish-orange lights of the hall silhouetted his large frame. His face was cast in shadow. “I need to talk to you.”

Had he spoken to Petr? Had Verdnt reported her poor behavior in class? Her stomach sank with dread.

Methusal followed Kitran into his office. He curtly motioned f
or her to sit, and she perched nervously on the edge of the wooden chair. Thankfully, he didn’t leave her waiting.

“I talked to Verdnt. He said your attitude in class this morning was poor, bordering on insolent.”

Uh oh. Her stomach gave a queasy lurch.

“But I didn’t mean…”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant, Methusal. You
know
how important discipline is in kaavl.”

“Yes, I know. But…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t expel you from the Tri-Level Game for Petr’s allegations, and I won’t for this, either.”

Hope leaped. “You won’t?”

“
If
you listen to me now.”

“Of course. I understand.” Methusal sat back and waited for the inevitable lecture. But she felt relieved.

“Verdnt didn’t intend to expel you from the Games, either. It’s simply become clear to both of us that you don’t understand the importance of discipline.”

Methusal nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Kitran continued, “I’ve learned a new kaavl secret, and I’ll share it with you now. Discipline and self-control are vital building blocks to achieve the Bi-level, and ultimately the Primary level. Only those tools will hone your skills and take you beyond the ordinary. Kaavl becomes a part of your very being.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated, clearly searching for the right words. “This might seem like a leap, but listen carefully. The intensity with which you experience kaavl is directly related to how you discipline your emotions. Emotions can either help you, or hinder you. They can help, if you channel their energy along productive paths. But they can hinder if you allow them to overwhelm you, and make you act according to how you feel.”

“So…,” she groped to understand. “I can’t act how I feel?”

He sighed. “You must
use
your emotions, Methusal. Focus
that energy to concentrate more fully into kaavl.”

“So I should use the energy of my emotions?”

“Yes. Channel them. Make your emotions work for you.”

“What about
feeling
my emotions, then?”

“I know this is hard to understand now, but you will. Feeling emotions is not important.
Use
your emotions. Don’t let
them
control
you
.”

“So feeling emotions distracts me from what is really important. Instead, I should ignore how I feel, and give all of my energy to kaavl?”

Kitran’s expressionless gaze flickered. “That’s crude, but pretty close. To advance past the Tri-level, you’ll need to prove you’re capable of that kind of discipline. Your behavior this morning is a symptom, telling me you need work in this area.

“If you use the principles I’ve just told you about, I see no reason why you can’t step up to the Bi-level within two years. You’re extremely gifted. To be honest, I’d hate to see you get off track.”

“I understand.” And she did understand—a little. To become a competitor at the Bi-level, she must use—or channel—her emotions, and ignore all of her feelings. This was the first time she had ever heard about this, and it disturbed her. She rose to her feet.

Kitran eyed her for a moment, and then joined her at the door. “I hope you do understand. Remember, to advance to the Bi-level, you must come in first or second at the Tri-level this year and next year. Plus put in a year of practice.”

Methusal hesitated. “Have you talked to Petr? Has he agreed to let me participate?” Even though Petr could not officially expel her from the Game, he could prevent her from competing simply by confining her indoors, or by throwing her in jail.

“I’ll speak to him now. I’ll do whatever I can to convince him—provided you agree to concentrate and work hard.”

“I will. Thank you, Kitran.”

Methusal slipped into the hall. With Kitran firmly on her side, she hoped Petr might see reason for once. The rest of her conversation with Kitran disturbed her, however. It was the first time she’d heard about using the energy of her emotions to advance in kaavl. How was that even possible? And he’d said he had just learned the precept. But how? And from whom? He was the only Primary level contender in Rolban.

She struggled to push the new precepts to the back of her mind. That was a worry for another day. Right now she needed to practice hard so she could beat Behran tomorrow. …
If
she was truly allowed to play.

Her adversary crossed her path when she reached the Grand Staircase. Behran lifted one eyebrow and snapped her a mocking salute before he disappeared into the dining hall.

With an eye roll, Methusal trotted down the staircase. How was she supposed to control
all
of her emotions? It was hard enough to control her small flashes of temper. The whole thing seemed ridiculously impossible.

Behran’s flippant salute had only served to stoke her burning desire to beat him. What she really needed to do was
run outside, and simultaneously practice kaavl at all distances.
Those combined skills were obviously impossible to perform inside.

Nearing the open gate, she gazed longingly at the brown, bush dotted plain, blanketed by a deep blue sky. Before community arrest, she’d never fully appreciated her freedom.

“Hey, Thusa.” Timaeus straightened from where he’d been leaning against the gate.

“Guard duty, huh?”

“Until supper.”

“What is your job, exactly?” She daringly stepped closer to the entrance. Freedom beckoned, mere steps away.

“Keep out invaders and wild animals. And keep the kids in.”

Had Petr actually ordered the guards to confine her inside? Yesterday she hadn’t tried to find out.

“Doesn’t sound too difficult,” she agreed. “Anything else?”

He smiled, but his brown eyes mirrored his regretful tone, “Petr ordered me to keep you inside, too.”

“I see.” Disappointment, along with her better sense, finally kicked in. Maybe her rash plan wasn’t the best idea anyway. If she got caught, she could lose her only chance to play in the Game. Worse, Timaeus could get in trouble, too. She didn’t want that. With regret, she let the crazy idea go and turned her attention to the investigation. “You guard the ore mine too, don’t you?”

He didn’t appear surprised by her question. “I heard about your adventure yesterday.”

Uncomfortably, Methusal wondered who else knew. Kitran hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe only the guards had discussed it. “It’s a long story.”

“Rumor says Renn found your necklace in the ore deposits.”

She nodded. “I’m still not sure how it got there. I found out yesterday it’s impossible to break into the ore room. That last guard is impossible to get by.”

He smiled. “Pretty much.”

Timaeus seemed to know a great deal. “So, how do
you
think my necklace ended up in the ore mine?”

He considered the question. “Must have been left there by a guard. Or someone with authorized access.”

“I need to find out who.”

“Can I help?”

Methusal was pleased that Timaeus wanted to help her. Finally, something was going right. “Maybe. Do you know who has access to the ore room? Could you give me a list?”

Timaeus eyed her for a moment. “It’s privileged information. Promise not to tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

Timaeus ticked off names on his fingers. “Guards first. Well, there’s Pogul and me. Renn was one, plus about six other men. We have limited access. All the senior members of the Council have access, too. That includes Petr, your father, Kitran, Barak, Verdnt, old Sims, and a quite a few others. Plus Motr, Behran, and Goric, who engineer the water systems. Do you have a piece of paper? I could write them down.”

Methusal fished a parchment from her pocket. It was the parchment on which Kitran had written kaavl instructions yesterday. Timaeus produced a bit of charcoal and scribbled names.

When he finished, she said, “That helps, thank you. But it’s still quite a few people.” There were over thirty in all. How could she narrow down that list to find the murderer?

“Yes.” With a sympathetic glance, he handed her the list, which she pocketed again.

“Have you seen anything unusual at the mine lately? Anyone visiting more often than normal?”

Timaeus shook his head. “Most people go in about once a month. Nobody more than once a week.”

“What do they do in there?”

He shrugged. “Old Sims inventories the ore. So does Barak. That’s how they discovered ore was missing. The council members go because they check on each other. No one is trusted. It’s pretty serious stuff.”

“Thank you, Timaeus. I appreciate your help. ” Unfortunately, the authorized access list was dauntingly long. Any one of them could have dropped her necklace inside. Even Behran. That thought made her snicker a little. She couldn’t
imagine Behran being so underhanded. If he wanted to troub
le her, he’d do it face-to-face. In addition, she couldn’t imagine him murdering Renn. And her father couldn’t be guilty, either.

Frankly, she couldn’t imagine anyone she knew murdering Renn. Except for maybe Pogul. However, in her opinion he wasn’t smart enough to carry out a systematic plan of thefts, let alone kill anyone; although he
had
stolen the chalk from Verdnt yesterday morning. Pogul was definitely a troublemaker. He could be involved in the thefts. But he certainly wasn’t the mastermind of the whole convoluted plot.

Methusal tried to remember the last question she wanted to ask Timaeus. “Oh…here’s a strange question. When you’ve carried messages to other communities, have you noticed anything usual? Like fires that smell strange?”

“Strange…how?”

“I don’t know. Like burning ore?”

His dark brows drew together. “You think someone is stealing ore, and using it to make weapons?”

“I don’t know. Why else steal ore?”

“Good question. But no, I haven’t seen or smelled anything strange lately.”

“That’s good, I guess.” Although fires could be burned in areas where messengers never went, for example. “Thanks again for your help Timaeus.”

“No problem.”

With a sigh, Methusal cast a final, longing glance out at the plains. “I’ve always taken my freedom for granted. Now I’d give anything to practice outside.”

“I’m sorry, Thusa.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He hesitated. “I can’t let you out. But if I don’t
see
you go….”

Much as that had been her rash original plan, she shook her head. “No. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Thanks, though, Timaeus.”

“Will you practice on the chairs, then?”

“I guess so.”

Methusal retreated to the recliner closest to the gate and sat down. Her spirit felt heavy. Timaeus had helped a lot by providing the mine access list. But how could she narrow it down?

And the Tri-level match—how could she ever win if she couldn’t fully practice kaavl? After all, Behran had captured her in the ore deposit hall yesterday. And he’d successfully snuck up on her the other day, when she’d rescued that apte. Kitran was right. She did need to work on discipline and concentration. Would she lose to Behran, after all?

Stop it.
She drew a steadying breath. Falling apart would solve nothing.

Methusal again pulled from her pocket the list of exercises that Kitran had given her. Before unfolding it, however, she concentrated and became aware of everything around her. Objects, people…

She sensed no one nearby. Surprised, she glanced left and right.

Timaeus was gone.

She glanced back at the Grand Staircase. No Timaeus. No one else was in sight, either. Had he left on purpose so she could escape outside?

Excitement made her heart pump faster. Should she take the opportunity Timaeus had just given her?