Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (14 page)

Putting it that way, it didn't sound so bad. They were just asking him to report anything wrong that Flare did. It still didn't feel quite right, but he heard himself say, “Yes. I think I can.”

Gavin smiled. “Excellent. You're doing the right thing.” He leaned forward on the sofa and looked at Philip. “Thanks for coming today. Unless there was something else you wanted to talk to me about, you can go.”

Still frowning, Philip got up and left the room.

The smile disappeared from Gavin's face as the door closed behind his son and was quickly replaced by a frown. “I raised that boy better than that. He shouldn't have questioned me.”

One of the doors on the back wall opened and Duke Angaria stepped out of the small closet. He wore a smile on his face as he emerged from the darkness. “It doesn't matter. He seemed okay with the way you phrased things. He will do as he was told and report to us if Flaranthlas does try to fulfill the prophecy.”

Gavin looked up at the other Duke, “And if the elf tries?”

Still smiling, Angaria said, “Then the church will take care of him.”

Chapter 5

Outside the Connell mansion, Philip walked toward the castle with a heavy heart. Struggling with the idea of spying on a friend, the thought kept occurring to him that perhaps his father was right. Perhaps he was just watching to see if anyone, Flare included, broke the rules of the church.

He continued toward the castle, wrestling with the decision the whole way.

Flare stood in the intersection that had haunted his dreams for the past several nights. It was still early in the morning, but he had been scared out of his bed by his last dream and he didn't even want to try to go back to sleep. Shortly after daybreak, he got dressed and headed toward the kitchen to get breakfast. He had sat in the cafeteria well after he was through eating, almost dozing off several times. Around mid-morning, he left the cafeteria and headed toward the intersection.

He stood there, staring at the solid wall that had been a door in his dreams, wondering if it really was a secret entrance, or if he had just been dreaming. He had tried everything that he could think of to find a secret entrance, but he could not find any secret switches or levers. He had even tapped on the wall, but it sounded solid. Then he tried pushing on different sections of the wall, but it wouldn't even budge an inch. After half an hour of pushing, pulling, and banging, he was on the verge of giving up when he heard footsteps coming from the hallway that led away from Dagan's quarters. He quickly stopped trying to move the wall, so that whoever it was, wouldn't think he was crazy. Instead, he leaned against the wall and waited to see who was approaching.

Cassandra, the king's magician, rounded the corner and walked towards him. After a moment she looked up and saw Flare, she almost stumbled in surprise, but she recovered and stopped in front of him. “Hello, Prince Flaranthlas.”

Flare was as surprised to see Cassandra as she appeared to be to see him. He had seen her at several royal functions, but they had only had a moment to speak formally. “Hello Cassandra. How have you been?” He asked, smiling weakly.

Cassandra returned Flare's smile, but her smile made him weak in the knees, her smile reminding him of the night they spent together right before he headed west to
Fort
Mul-dune
. “Actually, I was headed to Dagan's quarters to ask him to give you a message.” Cassandra replied.

Her words caught him off guard. “A message for me. What about?” He asked, hoping that maybe she wanted to rekindle their romance.

Cassandra dropped her eyes to the floor, and said in a shy way, “I was hoping that you would help me translate some high elven passages in a book I just found.” Her words hit him like a kick to the stomach, but then she raised her eyes back up and winked at Flare, making his pulse quicken. “Could you come over tonight after dinner?”

'What does that mean?' Flare thought. 'Does she want sex, or does she actually want me to help her translate a book?' He was totally confused now. “Uh, sure. Tonight's fine.”

“Great! I'll see you then.” Cassandra said, and walked off down the passage.

Flustered, Flare walked down the hall towards Dagan's quarters, having completely forgotten about the wall that he had been searching. 'Women! I just don't understand them.'

Flare spent the late morning and early afternoon working with Dagan, that is, until the old man got frustrated and kicked him out. Flare's mind just wasn't in to practicing sorcery, and Dagan wasn't the type to put up with any 'foolishness'. A rebuked and somewhat dejected Flare headed to the practice field where the other guardians spent most of their free time drilling and practicing.

As Flare walked up, the guardians were practicing sword play. Currently, Trestus was teamed up with Atock, Philip was teamed up with Derek, Enton was squared off against Aaron, and Heather and Kara were off to the side practicing but less strenuously than the male fighters. Flare stood on the sidelines for several moments watching the grace of the warriors as they attacked their opponent and then fell back into a defensive posture. Each attack was defended by the other guardian, except when Aaron slipped on his attack and Enton made him pay for it by slapping Aaron across the face with his practice sword. Flare joined the group as Aaron pushed himself off the ground.

“Are you all right, Aaron?” Flare asked, walking nearer.

Aaron was rubbing his jaw where Enton's sword had hit him; the spot was already red and was getting darker. “I've been better. The lummox nailed me pretty good.” He smiled as he spoke, his words holding no animosity towards Enton.

Enton smiled in return, “It's better that you slipped in practice, than in a real fight. That bruise will go away, but if this had been a real fight then you would be dead now.”

“You don't have to rub it in.” Aaron said towards Enton. “You got me this time, but it will be my turn next time.” As he spoke he jabbed the practice sword at Enton, which Enton easily knocked away.

“Well, who do I get to practice against?” Flare asked of no one in particular. “I got an idea. Aaron, why don't you rest for a moment and let me go up against Enton?”

“Sure,” was Aaron's response. He didn't seem to mind at all, and he walked slowly over to the side of the field.

Flare picked up Aaron's practice sword and then turned to face Enton. Unlike his morning training with Dagan, he quickly found himself completely engaged in the sword fighting. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the sorcery required full concentration, where as the sword play seemed almost instinctive and required little or no concentration on his part.

For an hour or so, they continued to practice. From time to time, partners would change and another fighter would be given an opportunity to rest. Flare enjoyed the camaraderie of the fighters and the brainless physical activity, as he won some fights and lost others. Only Philip seemed to be in a bad mood, as he passed up his turn to fight Flare, although Flare didn't think twice about it.

He was just squaring off against Atock for the first time this afternoon, when somebody spoke from behind him. “So these are the mighty warriors from the north.”

Flare turned to see who had spoken and saw a person the like of which he had never seen before. He was human, but looked different from all the rest of the humans that Flare had seen to this point. He had straight black hair, brown skin, and narrow black eyes. He was short, but built of muscle. He wore a white silk shirt and bright green pants, and he carried a staff in his hands.

The guardians all stopped their sparring, and watched the man as he approached the group. He looked them over and smiled, “My name is Mal-Jain and I am an advisor to the king. It is a pleasure to meet the soldiers that turned back the hoards at
Fort
Mul-dune
.” His eyes came to rest on Flare, “And it a pleasure to meet the new prince.” As he spoke, he half-bowed to Flare, and seemed genuine in his words.

“Hello, what can we do for you?” Flare asked.

“The king sent me to work with you. It seems that my fighting style is different and the king thinks that you will benefit from it.” Mal-Jain said.

Flare frowned in confusion, “How is your fighting style different, and how will we benefit?”

Mal-Jain waved his hand, “Perhaps a demonstration will enlighten you?”

Flare nodded his head, “Sure.” He then stepped closer to the strange fighter.

Mal-Jain's smile got even bigger, “Actually, I was thinking of you and two more of your companions versus me.”

Flare stopped in his tracks, “You want to fight three swordsmen with nothing but a staff?” He asked in amazement.

Mal-Jain simply bowed his head toward Flare. “Trust me,” was his only response.

Flare simply shrugged his shoulders, “Okay by me.” Then turning back to the other guardians, he added, “Atock, Philip, please join me.” Atock and Philip also wore the same confused looks on their face that Flare did, but they picked up their practice swords and moved forward to stand in a circle with Mal-Jain in the middle.

Mal-Jain held his staff ready. “Whenever you please,” he said. For the first time, Flare noticed that Mal-Jain's staff had a u shaped blade on the end. 'I hope that blade is dulled,' he thought.

Mal-Jain started by facing toward Atock and Flare, with his back toward Philip. Philip, hoping to make it a quick fight, attacked from behind. Holding his sword horizontal, he drove it at Mal-Jain's mid-section.

Mal-Jain whirled and spinning his staff in circular manner, easily deflected Philip's sword. Flare and Atock charged to their comrade's defense, but they were too late. After deflecting Philip's sword, Mal-Jain simply continued the spin of his staff, and cracked it down on Philip's head. Philip promptly crumbled to the ground and Mal-Jain spun to face the charge of the other two.

Flare and Atock skidded to a halt. They traded glances, and Flare moved to his right to put more space between them and get Mal-Jain centered between the two guardians. Flare noticed with a twinge of anger that Mal-Jain wore a grin on his face. 'Let's see if we can wipe that off of there.'

Atock charged, but retreated as soon as Mal-Jain turned more in his direction. Seeing the opening, Flare rushed in on Mal-Jain's back, but he was too late. Mal-Jain had already turned back in Flare's direction, and swung his staff in an overhand motion. Flare managed to block the blow, but the impact made his hands go numb. Mal-Jain then reversed the motion and swung his staff upwards, and completely caught Flare off guard. The blow caught Flare in the forearm, and sent his sword flying. He was knocked to the ground by the blow and sat up just in time to see Atock take a blow to the stomach that put him out of the fight. Flare reached for his sword, but stopped when the end of Mal-Jain's staff suddenly appeared in front of his face.

“Don't do anything stupid,” Mal-Jain said.

Flare raised his hands in submission, “You win.” It almost made him sick to say the words. 'How embarrassing! Some heroes we turned out to be.' He thought in disgust.

Kara tended to Philip first; he came away from the fight with bruises and a splitting headache. He was bleeding a little bit from a cut on his forehead, but she treated the cut. He still seemed a little wobbly when he stood. Atock's wounds were minor compared to Philip's. Atock had some bruised muscles in his abdomen, but that was the worst of it. Mal-Jain helped Kara tend to their wounds.

Flare sat watching Mal-Jain. He helped tend to the wounds that he had just inflicted, and he did it in such a way that implied great concern. Flare found himself not disliking the man as much as he had thought he would. After a few moments, Mal-Jain got up and walked over to Flare sat.

“They will be okay. How about you?”

Flare shrugged, “I'm fine. I just had my pride hurt.”

Mal-Jain grinned at Flare's words. “There is no need to be embarrassed, the staff is not a weapon that your people give much thought to.”

“Mal-Jain, where are you from?” Flare asked, genuinely interested.

“My home is far to the south and west, my kingdom is an island nation called Alsoora.”

“I've heard of it.” Flare said, and it was true that he had heard the name, but he couldn't remember anything about it. “Do all of your people fight like you do?”

Mal-Jain frowned. “No, actually, I am part of an ancient order. My order is similar to the druid orders that are so common in the north.”

“Really? I don't remember hearing that the druids fight as well as you do.”

This brought a smile to Mal-Jain's face, “My brothers learned a long time ago that wondering priests are an easy target for bandits. We learned to fight to protect ourselves, although we still learn our techniques from nature.”

Flare was intrigued, “Can you demonstrate some of your moves for us? Not on us, but for us.” He quickly corrected, with a grin.

Mal-Jain nodded, “I would be honored. There are quite a few weapons that I can show you, and if you're interested then I can teach you how to use them.”

“Sure, I would love to see them.” Flare answered.

“Okay, why don't you come to the training gym in the northern hall of the castle tomorrow morning? I will demonstrate some of the weapons that I have, and you can try them out. If you like them, I can instruct you in their use. After I have shown you some of the weapons, then perhaps we can demonstrate them for the other guardians.”