Read Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) Online
Authors: Trevor H. Cooley
“I just need an answer. Are you going to be a problem?”
“N-no, of course I won’t. But please, will you let me explain my side of the story?” Benjo looked so desperate, that Justan couldn’t say no to the man.
“If you must.”
“Well, I left this place to go to the Training School after Willum entered the academy. Coal was so . . . proud of him that I just wanted to accomplish something too. I-I didn’t want to be a farmer all my life. And I was pretty good. I had sparred around a lot with Willum and he’s much better than me and all, but he taught me a lot of stuff. I figured that if I put my mind to it, I could do it and you know, be an academy graduate some day. Coal didn’t want me to go, though. Said I had responsibilities here. I know now that he was right, but I was tired of him telling me what to do and I went anyway.”
Justan found himself understanding how Benjo must have felt and he didn’t like it. Part of Justan wanted to punch the man in the face just for making him sympathize with him.
“When I got there, I ran into Kenn. I hadn’t seen him since we were kids back before Coal married my mom. He showed me around and stuff and helped me out. He talked me up, you know? Had me feeling big and tough, like I could really make it in the academy.
“When he got mad at you after the strategy test and asked me if I would help him get back at you, I thought he just wanted to scare you at first, you know, teach you a lesson. The situation kind of got out of hand though and got . . . rougher than we planned.”
“Speaking of Kenn, I saw him just a few weeks ago,” Justan remarked. “You want to know what he was up to? The weasel was a dungeon keeper in charge of torturing people. Frankly, at the time I expected you to still be with him.”
“But I’m not like him, I’m . . .” Benjo turned his head away in shame. “I-I guess I can see why you’d think that of me after everything that happened. Anyways, after we woke up after that . . . lady knocked us out, I was done. I had learned my lesson right there. I just wanted to go through Training School and get on with my life, but Kenn wouldn’t let it go. Getting even with you was all he could talk about. I-I wouldn’t have anything to do with it all year. I even talked him out of a few things he had planned, I swear. I was able to scare him off of it by telling him that the . . . lady would protect you.”
He watched Justan for a reaction to what he was saying, but Justan did not let his emotions show. He refused to give in to the man’s story. He waited with his arms folded, not saying anything until Benjo continued.
“Well, uh. Then testing week came and the day before the stamina test, Kenn told me what you had told Mad Jon about me and I got so mad that I-.”
“He told you what?” Justan interrupted.
“About how you told Mad Jon I had sneaked out of archery class to meet my girl. I got pulled before the council and they almost kicked me out for it.” Benjo misunderstood the dumbfounded look on Justan’s face for something else. “Oh, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t blame you. You had every right to be mad at me after what we did to you in the alley.”
“Benjo, I have no idea what you are talking about. I couldn’t have cared less what you did. I was too focused on my own training.” Justan said. He had a pretty good idea what had really happened though. If Benjo wasn’t going to follow Kenn’s little schemes, it would be just like the little man to tell on his friend so that he could blame Justan.
“But, Kenn said-. He . . . that son of a dog.” Benjo laughed then. It was a self-mocking laugh and Justan lost grip on some of the anger he had been holding onto so tightly. “Oh, Coal was right about me. He said that I wasn’t ready to go out on my own yet.”
“So that’s why you pushed me in the stamina test?” Justan said, subconsciously fingering the frost rune through his shirt. How strange that his encounter with the Scralag wouldn’t have happened if not for a lie that Kenn had told Benjo.
“Yeah, I was really mad. I mean not only did I nearly get kicked out of the Training School for skipping class, but the council told my girl’s father about it and he forbade her to ever see me again.” He shook his head. “It all seems so childish now. But anyway, after the race, when you chose not to tell the council that I was the one that pushed you, I was so confused. Kenn wanted me to help him jump you in the night but I wouldn’t do it.”
Justan remembered that night. The next day, he had awakened late because Kenn had covered his windows. He had almost missed the archery exam.
Benjo went on, “Then the next day after the archery test, Kenn was so humiliated after what that . . . lady did to him, that-“
“Please stop calling her ‘that lady’. Just call her . . .” Justan wasn’t sure what he wanted to tell Benjo to call her actually. He didn’t deserve to know her real name. Even hearing the man call her Ma’am seemed like it would be an insult. “Just refer to her as my trainer.”
“O-okay. So Kenn wants revenge so bad and this guy in a white robe shows up and offers to sell us a sleeping potion. I said no way and got out of there. I told Kenn that I was through with him. Then that night, he snuck out of the barracks and headed towards your place. I followed him, trying to talk him out of it and up comes Swift Kendyl. He was waiting for us. No one would believe that I was trying to talk Kenn out of using the potion. They expelled both of us that night.
“I didn’t know what to do. I had nowhere to stay. I didn’t want to go home. Kenn found this old storeroom for us to sleep in and I just laid there on the floor for an entire day, trying to figure out what to do. Then Kenn came in that night and said that the old man had given him another bottle of the sleeping potion. He wanted me to go with him and . . . I really don’t have a good excuse as to why I went that time. I was so lost at that point that I just followed him. He told me that the plan was to dose you with the sleeping potion and then take you out of town so that by the time you woke up and got back to the Training Grounds, you would miss the test.
“But that- er, your trainer . . . she showed up and Kenn splashed her with the potion. After that, things got way out of hand real quick. Kenn started acting crazy, ranting and stomping around. I nearly ran out of there a couple times, but the way he kept eyeing her, I was afraid of what Kenn might do to her if I left him alone. I-I just . . .
“Anyways, you know the rest. After you got there and Kenn tried to . . . I took off. I didn’t look back. I just headed out of town. I knew they would be looking for me and I didn’t want Kenn to find me either. I couldn’t believe that I had let that little man ruin my life.
“But Willum found me. He showed up as I was heading into the hills and stopped me, demanding to know what I had done. I-I told him what happened and . . . I’ll never forget the look of disgust and pity on his face. He said a lot of things, but in the end, he told me that he wasn’t going to say anything to Coal about it. H-he said that he would leave that to me.” Benjo finished his story and sat down on the couch with his head in his hands.
Justan looked at the man, saw the agony on his face, and imagined the guilt that must have been plaguing him ever since. The last bit of anger that Justan had been holding onto slipped away.
“If it helps at all, Benjo, the last time I saw Kenn, I left him on one of his own torture tables to be found by the other escaped prisoners. I never did hear what became of him after that.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Benjo said. “I don’t care what happened to Kenn. I wish I’d never met him in the first place. I just want to forget that part of my life ever happened. I still haven’t spoken to Coal about it. When I got back, I couldn’t bear to admit what had happened. I just told them that I failed the tests.
“Coal was so understanding and I felt so guilty about lying to him about it. He wanted me to go back to farming and I was ready to do what ever he wanted. But then Bettie pulled me aside and started teaching me the forge. I am okay at it too, but leatherwork . . .” Benjo looked down and stared at his hands. “I love it. I really do.”
“Benjo, you should have listened to Willum. Trying to forget it ever happened is not going to work. You are never going to be able to put this past you until you go talk to your father about it,” Justan said. “You know him far better than I do, but if what I know about Master Coal holds up, he would understand. I won’t be as nice about this as Willum though. If you won’t talk to him about it, I will.”
Benjo looked at him with terror in his eyes. His bottom lip quivered for a moment and then he grit his teeth. A look of resignation entered his haggard eyes.
“Y-yes. You are right. I will speak with him about it.”
“Good,” Justan turned to leave, but stopped before he reached the door. “Benjo, I want you to know that I forgive you for your part in what happened.” He really had no reason to hold a grudge. In a way, his life has turned out for the better in part because of the things Benjo and Kenn had done.
“Thank you,” Benjo said. He looked down at the floor and Justan decided to go.
“Sir Edge,” Benjo said.
Justan paused in the doorway.
“I could have made it in, you know. I was at the top of our training class in both hand-to-hand and armed combat by the time the year was over.” Benjo sighed. “If only I hadn’t been so stupid.”
Justan thought of all his wasted years training alone and shutting everyone out. How close had he come to losing it all himself? “We are all stupid sometimes, Benjo. It’s what we do after we realize how stupid we are that counts.”
Justan left Benjo’s house and headed back towards the lodge house to get ready for bed. He had wanted to say something profound to Benjo as he left, but what had come out of his mouth had sounded so ridiculous. He chuckled at himself. Oh well, giving speeches wasn’t one of his strong points.
Benjo however, laid awake thinking about what Justan had said late into the night. Finally, despite the hour, he walked over to his father’s house and knocked on the door.
“Ewzad Vrill, how dare you enter these chambers? You shouldn’t even be in the castle! Your noble rank has been revo-!”
The wizard silenced the man, freezing everyone in the room with one wave of his snakelike arm. “My-my, councilor. How rude of you to interrupt me before I even begin speaking. That won’t do, no-no it won’t. I am the only one who will be talking tonight.”
He had caught all ten councilors in his spell. Just by looking at their faces, Ewzad could tell who his true enemies in the room were. It wasn’t the men who were half out of their chairs, faces frozen in anger. These were the men who knew nothing of Ewzad’s true power. The truly dangerous ones were paralyzed with a look of pure fear. One of them had gotten halfway to the rear door before being stopped in place.
The Dremaldrian Council Room was opulently furnished. Silken tapestries lined the walls and a nine-tiered crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Each piece of furniture was a unique work of art carved from a single tree. Each councilman’s overly padded chair had its own lush rug for their feet to rest on and three separate fireplaces were always kept blazing to keep their old bones warm on the coldest of winter nights.
The council table was the centerpiece of the room. Enormous and polished to a mirror-like shine, it was lined in gold and carved in the shape of a crescent moon so that all the men could gaze on the throne in the center of the room. The throne itself was quite plain in comparison. Though it was also highly polished, it had a plain wooden seat and a high back contoured to keep the king in an upright position. King Andre had often complained to Ewzad that its true purpose was to be just uncomfortable enough to keep the king awake while the councilors droned on.
For generations, the Muldroomon family had sat in that throne and decided the direction of the kingdom based largely in part on what these old noblemen had to say. Their influence had only taken one brief recess. When Andre had first become king, he had caused quite an uproar among the noble class by replacing the old councilors with his own friends. Ewzad had been one of them.
How delicious that time had been. Andre had ended his banishment and placed him right near the seat of power. But it had also been constricting. There was only so much that Ewzad could do to further his plans while under the scrutiny of the nobility of Dremald. Once Ewzad had convinced Andre to name him duke and moved back to his family keep, he had the freedom he needed. Unfortunately, in his absence Andre had succumbed to pressure from the nobility and reinstated the gray-haired councilors.
“I hate this room, you know.” Ewzad stepped up and sat in the throne. It was as uncomfortable as Andre had described it. “I always have. Yes, even when I myself sat at the table I hated it. It always stank of old men. Revolting, yes?”