The Pool And The Pedestal (Book 2) (4 page)

“Private Tisan! What in Avra are you trying to do?!” shouted the burly sergeant. “Short downward strokes! If you open your midsection like that to a Keltaran battle-ax you are a dead man!”

In another area of the yard, a tall, thin military man stood leaning on a steel tipped pike. Two green-garbed recruits rushed at him with similar, wicked looking weapons. Instantly, the instructor snapped his pike into the air, striking the staff of one of his attackers. He deftly dodged the other extended pole and kicked its holder in the chest. Quickly, he spun clear of this second wheezing recruit, his pike hooked the legs of the first and sent him tumbling to the ground. Kael continued across the yard and heard the tall instructor call out to the group under his tutelage.

“A weapon is not just an offensive tool. You come at me as if you are impervious to harm. You must learn when to attack and when to probe. Your first maneuver against an armed foe should be a feint. In this way you will learn his preferred method of defense.”

Kael slowed and examined the yard. Six training squares divided the space. Three lay on the north and three on the south. A water well stood in its center. Open balconies rose up on all four sides of the compound. The balconies were broad and dark. However, Kael barely spied figures moving back and forth along the balconies as they traveled from room to room. All views faced the yard.  This structure constantly focused the minds of the recruits on their training or that of their classmates.

Each of the six squares held a different training apparatus. In one of the central squares stood a wooden horse. A recruit sat atop the horse trying to defend himself from an instructor on foot. Both the instructor and the recruit held wooden training swords. Their edges were rounded and blunt. The instructor hacked at the boy. The recruit blocked the rapid blows. The instructor moved quickly about the horse and aimed his strokes toward the boy’s arms and midsection. The boy defended himself adequately. However, after several attempts aimed at the boy’s upper body, the instructor quickly smacked the recruit hard on the thigh. Kael started from the loud crack. The recruit cried out in pain and moved his blade to cover the area just as the instructor raised his sword and jabbed hard to the ribcage, knocking the boy from the wooden horse.

“An attack pattern is usually nothing more than a ruse.” growled the instructor as he helped the fallen recruit to his feet. “Private Smilt anticipated my next attack and moved his defense there before me. Once I changed my pattern and changed my attack, he was already committed to defense of his upper body. If I did not mortally wound him on the leg, then I most certainly did when he opened his defenses to react to the pain.”

Brelg broke from the group and strolled near the horseback square.

“Pain is a distraction you cannot afford to react to on the battlefield! Fight through your pain! If you allow yourself to lose your concentration and give even one tiny portion of your thoughts to your pain, you will die.” shouted Brelg. “A leg can be mended. Once you forfeit your life, you are of no use to us.”

Kael blinked hard. Was that his father? Brelg was hard on his sons when they misbehaved, but this man acted differently. Kael looked to his father’s eyes. Brelg stood steely eyed and cold. No trace of the kindly innkeeper could be found.

“You look at him like you don’t know him.” whispered a voice.

Kael turned and looked into the face of Manfir. The prince smiled at Kael while Brelg continued to lecture the recruits.

“You may see him as somewhat ..... harsh right now, Kael.” continued Manfir. “But trust me when I tell you that all your father says and does is out of a love for his men and his country. Some of those recruits will listen and some will not. Some will understand. Those that do possess a much greater chance of surviving on the Scythtar Mountains than the others.”

“....speed is your ally,  not strength. The Ulrog are incredibly strong, yet their movements are ponderous and slow. They were not built to think, just to fight and to kill. Do not guess their movements, react to them. If you are quick enough, you will be able to defend and then return with an attack of your own. If you guess, the odds are stacked against you. Eventually you will guess wrong. Remember the Ulrog....”

“This is where they first met.” said Manfir smiling.

Kael turned to the prince, puzzled.

“Yanwin and Brelg.” stated Manfir. “My sister always looked for ways to share the burden. She gathered her ladies together one day and informed them of her desire to contribute in any way she could. They decided to come to the Hold and help the recruits in their chores.

They came and stripped the recruits bedding, giving it a good wash and hanging it over the balconies to dry. They swept the rooms, mended clothing, and even spent time in the kitchens. Your mother felt it her duty to support the troops.”

“That’s how they met?” prompted Kael.

Manfir pointed up to the balconies rising for five stories above them.

“There are no hallways on the upper levels. The balconies run a complete circuit around the yard. Your mother and her ladies dragged wash basins from room to room in order to scrub the bedding. Periodically, the women took a break and relaxed in the sunshine on the balconies. Those windowless rooms tend to get a little stuffy. No one likes to stay in them too long.

That is when my sister became fascinated by the art of warfare. She studied the instructors and their recruits. She studied the adjustments the sergeants made to men’s stances and technique. She realized battle wasn’t as haphazard and chaotic as it appeared. Combat can often times be as choreographed as a beautiful dance. The partners of this dance simply desire a much more sinister conclusion.” laughed Manfir.

“When did she first speak to my father?” asked Kael.

“Brelg may be a gentleman.” smiled Manfir. “But his first calling is that of drill sergeant. Your father saw the pains the ladies were going through to retrieve water from the well and haul it to the wash basins on the floors above. Brelg never passes an opportunity to use work as a teaching tool. Those recruits who faltered during training were given the job of hauling fresh water up the stairs to Yanwin and her ladies. Since it appeared likely we would be fighting on mountainous terrain, Brelg forced us to carry our weapons held aloft in one hand while we struggled with the water in the other. If we spilled the water, we were to return to the well and procure another bucket.”

Manfir looked toward the far corner of the yard where a steep stone staircase loomed. A smile crept across his face as he remembered his training.

“Even you?” asked Kael.

“Of course! In your father’s eyes I was nothing more than a recruit. Someone whose life he worked to save.” stated Manfir. “Yanwin came down to the yard and called your father over. She complained that his orders defeated the purpose of her visits. It added more hardship to the recruit’s lives. Brelg disagreed.This chore was exactly the type of thing he searched for to train the troops in mountainous assault. She didn’t understand, so he calmly explained. That was the first time they spoke. After that encounter, if Yanwin or one of her ladies had a question concerning training, Yanwin went straight to Brelg.”

“.... now carry on. Remember, Ulrog don’t rest so neither should you.”

Brelg turned from the training exercises and returned to the group.

“Your pardons, my prince.” said Brelg bowing. “This group is particularly obstinate and must have it spelled out. If not , we could lose the lot of them.”

“The safety of the realm comes first.” returned Manfir. “My father can wait a few moments.”

Manfir turned and led the group to the north door. It mirrored that in the south. Several recruits stood guard and runners hid in the recessed alcove. They briskly saluted Brelg and Manfir, then swung the gate open. Kael turned and watched the muscles on their necks tighten as Granu lumbered past them in close quarters. The streets had emptied considerably since they entered the Hold. Zodra settled into slumber.

“Manfir, I suggest we get off these streets as quickly as possible.” said Ader. “Anything can happen on the streets of Zodra after nightfall.”

Manfir nodded his head and made a hard line toward the first street traveling north. The group walked at a brisk pace and saw few people on their journey. The size of Zodra astounded Kael. They kept their quick pace for fifteen minutes then finally stepped into another massive open square like that which contained the Hold. This time however, the moonlit visage of the Palace of Zodra, the center of the world, greeted the group.

Kael concluded that towers were the theme here as well. Several dozen stretched up into the darkening sky from all about the grounds of the castle. The ornate architecture startled when contrasted to the Hold.

“Again, the Zodrians outdo themselves in self-aggrandizement.” smirked Teeg and he glanced at Kael. “Each one of those towers represents some former monarch’s ode to himself or a loved one. Half of them go unused, and the remainder are storage areas.”

“You are blessed with a knack for sucking the wonder out of the extraordinary.” said Kael.

“Sorry, dear boy.” smirked Teeg.

“Actually, my quarters are there.” commented Manfir pointing to a low tower near the front of the compound. “I did not mind the climb and cherished the solitude.”

“As I said.” returned Teeg frowning at Manfir. “Many go unused.”

The group marched forward and approached another massive, iron gateway. Kael noted quite a few guards milling about. They looked unorganized and undisciplined. A shout rang out as one of the guards noticed Manfir’s approach. Twelve men hustled from the shadows of the gateway and blocked its entry. Each held a hand tightly locked on the hilt of his weapon. Manfir marched to within three yards of the gate with Brelg at his side. Kael noticed supply staff insignia emblazoned on the men’s tunics.

“Who ordered a tripling of the guard at the palace gate?” demanded Brelg.

The group looked to one another and did not reply.

“I asked who ordered so many men to cover this gate?!” barked Brelg exasperated. “Who is in charge here?!”

Kael discerned movement behind the line of men in the recessed area of the guard’s station. The line of supply troops shifted uneasily and opened to allow Colonel Udas to step forward.

“I am.” stated the colonel smugly.

“You press my patience.” growled Manfir. “I’ve completed a long journey and will not be trifled with.”

“I don’t intend to trifle with you, Prince Manfir.” stated Udas. “I simply intend to do my duty. One of the many tasks added to my already full plate is the security of the palace.”

Manfir glanced to Brelg and the old sergeant nodded in agreement.

“The palace is not a military facility, and all able bodied Guardsmen were needed elsewhere.” said Brelg. “We use many of Udas’s supply staff to fill these roles.”

“Roles we take very seriously.” sneered Udas. “The General Staff may not regard the protection of his majesty as vital to the interests of Zodra but we know better. Especially knowing that Macin’s death might lead to the ascension of an element not as committed to the defense of this realm as he.”

Manfir clenched his fists and moved toward the one-armed colonel. Udas’s men crowded close to their leader. Brelg put a restraining hand on the prince’s shoulder. Manfir ground his teeth and glared at Udas.

“If it were not for your .... condition.” growled Manfir. “We would settle this in the yard of the Hold.”

“My
condition 
is known as a battle wound! ” shouted Udas waving the stump of his arm in Manfir’s direction. “Something you haven’t seen in the last seventeen years while you went missing! A wound I received in defense of a kingdom I am loath to say you will one day rule. A wound demonstrating my conviction to the defense of this kingdom. A wound inflicted upon me by the beasts commanded by the scum you intend to allow in the presence of his Royal Highness.”

Udas’s eyes filled with madness and he pointed toward Granu.

“Macin ordered the Elven emissaries and his son brought before him. He did not request the murderous offspring of Grannak Stormbreaker be put within a blades length of his throne.” spluttered Udas. “Nor did he request the presence of Ader the magician. Your tricks and riddles are not needed in a time requiring clarity of thought and focus of mind old man. Off with you to the marketplace to entertain the simple folk. As for your mountain dog, my men will take
it
into custody.”

Ader quickly stepped forward and smiled at the colonel before Manfir had the chance to break free from Brelg’s hand. The Seraph gave the prince a reassuring look and Manfir stepped back. Ader turned and faced the heaving Udas.

“Calm yourself, colonel.” smiled Ader. “There have obviously been some misunderstandings here.”

Udas furrowed his brow and looked at the Seraph quizzically.

“The Elven emissaries were requested and the Elven emissaries have arrived. Both Granu son of Grannak and I are emissaries of the crown of Luxlor.” 

“Ridiculous!” scoffed Udas.

“Not at all.” replied Ader removing a rolled parchment from beneath his robes. “King Leinor has provided this signed document to avoid any confusion. Also, his son, Prince Eidyn may vouch for his father.”

Eidyn stepped forward and bowed to Udas. Udas snatched the parchment from the Guide’s hands and quickly read it.

“Interesting that you are aware of my companion’s heritage.” continued Ader. “Granu could be any Keltaran by the look of him, but you were certain he held the title of prince heir. Perhaps you get your information from a very reliable source.”

Udas humphed and threw the parchment back at Ader. The Seraph nimbly snatched it from the air and tucked it back in the folds of his robes.

“I am well aware who your lap dog is old man! I do not intend to allow him before the king and his nobles no matter what foreign puppet vouches for him! He is an enemy of the state and will be removed to the lower levels of the Hold!”

“I am afraid not!” came a voice from the gathering darkness in the square.