NexLord: Dark Prophecies (24 page)

Lor looked scared and then suddenly angry,
"Did Aerin..."

Mara interrupted, "No, I've known for a long
time, but I didn't know that Aerin knew you were a girl."

Lor sighed, "He just found out.  I
should have known you would know."

Mara smiled, "I understand your reasons. Now
let's get this shirt off so I can see to that
shoulder.  I need to see if you fractured anything."

Lor let Mara gently peel off the shirt and
the wrap underneath.  Then Mara gently squeezed and
prodded the girl around the bruised areas, while she asked various
questions, attempting to ascertain the extent of the damage.

"Well, young lady, you look like you came
through it with the durability of youth.  You'll be back
in shape in a few days, with some pretty colorful bruises to show
for it, but no permanent damage."

Mara removed a rolled up leaf from a sealed
jar, that she took out of her trunk on the floor.

"Here, chew on this cured leaf and it will
give you some relief from the pain.  Now we have a few
other things to discuss."

Lor chewed on the leaf and let Mara help her
put her shirt back on.  The young girl looked more
fearful of Mara's questions than she did of the earlier painful
exploration of her shoulder.

"Now that Aerin knows, I doubt you can keep
it from your other friends for long.  Are you still
planning to keep your secret?"

Lor looked miserable, "Yes, for as long as
possible.  I don't want to be a girl!"

Mara gave her a warm smile.  "I
think you are going to be surprised at just how much fun you are
going to have a
s
a
girl.  You're going to stand people on their ear, and
love doing it.  I know your type; I was that way myself,
once.  Don't take their prejudice as an
insult
but as a challenge.  There is
nothing quite as satisfying as proving such people, and their
beliefs, wrong.  Not that I'm saying it will be easy;
you'll have to fight them your entire life.  Even more,
you'll have to fight the combined power of years of
belief.  Alone you wouldn't stand a chance, but you are
not alone, Lor."

"What do you mean?" Lor asked.

"Friendship, it is a power stronger than
prejudice, stronger than hatred and fear.  The combined
power of friendship can sustain you through it all, and let you be
victorious.  Gandarel Trelic is the key.  With him
as the focus of your
bond,
you
will become far stronger than you can believe."

Lor's voice caught with suppressed emotion,
"I can't say I understand.  I'm sorry; I just know
that as soon as everyone learns I'm a girl I won't be allowed to do
what I want.  I won't be able to travel the High
Road.  People will perceive me as weak and
needing
protection."

 Mara spoke quietly, "You fear the loss
of freedom.  Well, Lor, freedom is something you have in
your heart.  It is not given to you, nor can it be taken
away.  Locked in a cell for forty years I would still be
free.  Free to believe what I wished, free to believe in
my abilities and free to stay in control of my own
mind.  Freedom is something only you can give
away.  Fear is the start, the more you fear the more
freedom you lose.  Fear not what others will say, do, or
think of you, be yourself and be anything you
wish.  Trust in the power of your friendships, and the
fact that though your friends may not always understand, they will
still stand behind
you
whether you
are a girl or a Drakwolf."

Lor paused in thought for a moment,
considering Mara's words.  "How have you survived as a
woman Mara?  How is it you know so much about
fighting
when that is considered a man's
providence?"

"It hasn't been easy, that I can tell you,
but I will not compromise my own beliefs for anyone.  If
the whole world were
against
me,
except for one true friend, I would not buckle under the weight of
the world’s belief.  You have friends like that now, Lor;
lean on them, trust them, they will not fail you.  Let
them strengthen you until you too can stand against the
world.  As to my knowledge of fighting, I am old, and
I've survived long enough to learn many things.  It is my
destiny to teach the new NexLord, who will throw down the
Dreadmaster forever.  To that
end,
I am prepared.  Nor is it the first time I
have been a teacher in arms, but fighting skill is only one thing
all of you must learn.  There are stronger uses for the
power of the Nexus, and I will teach you."

"What is this power of the Nexus?" Lor asked,
puzzled, though her voice was getting drowsy from the effects of
the leaf she had chewed.

Mara smiled and smoothed the young girl's
short hair out of her
face
when
she spoke her voice was soft, “Don't worry, the time has not yet
come.  Rest young warrior, your friends will need you, as
much as you need them.  There is still a little time
before you must bear the weight of the Nexus."  Mara's
voice took on the pattern of words long repeated, "For when the
Dreadmaster's army flows around the Seat of Stone, like the ocean
tide around a rock, the future
NexLord,
and his
friends,
must sneak away ere the Togroths
depart.  For if the son of the Warlord is to be the
savior of the world, he must leave for the Chamber while the siege
still stands." 

Lor muttered something
unintelligible
but drifted off into sleep.

Mara watched her for a few minutes,
remembering troubled times in her own youth, as she took on the
combined beliefs of many people.  She tucked Lor
in
and then left to go see
Aerin.

Down in the courtyard, Aerin recounted his
adventures to Dono, Tocor, Mara and the recently arrived
Gandarel.  He left out his discovery of Lor's gender and
glossed over the reasons that Lor was in trouble with the Skulls
gang.

"But what was Lor doing with the Skulls?"
Gandarel asked, puzzled by Aerin's less than complete
accounting.

Aerin looked troubled, but Mara came to his
rescue.

"I'm sure Lor can tell us that part once he
has had a chance to recover," she said, breaking into the
conversation.

Gandarel had a furious glint deep in his eye,
"Perhaps it's time I have the Guard do something about that
gang."

Mara shook her head.  "You can try,
but even if the Guard manages to break up that gang, another one
will just grab the territory once the Guard moves
on.  The answer to ending the gangs does not lie in
fighting them, but getting the kids educated and directing all that
energy into useful endeavors.  Not that I think that is
an easy task, and I'm not suggesting that your Guard goes easy on
gang members, but using
force, in this
case,
is treating a symptom, not curing the
disease." 

"Still, the streets can be made safer if we
step up the patrols," Gandarel concluded.

Mara shrugged.  "Sometimes treating
a symptom is all you can manage."

The next day’s practice session was
canceled.  Lor had left, and needed time to recover and
Dono was laid up with a sprained ankle.  Gandarel was
busy with some official duty of the Warlord, even though he was
still only heir apparent, and that left Aerin without much to
do.

  He found Dono sitting on a corner
making use of his bandaged leg.  He was getting some of
the richer members of Strakhelm's society to take pity on him and
toss an occasional coin into his cup.  He had dirtied up
the outside of the bandage Mara had tied around his ankle and
smudged up his face and hair to make him look even more
pitiful.

Aerin glanced in his cup and whistled, "Wow,
you should sprain your ankle more often!"

"Yeah, some of these merchant's wives are
nearly crying when they see how pitiful I look," Dono said with a
grin, which he immediately wiped off his face, as a woman came by
and dropped another coin in his cup.

At the feigned look of pain on his
face,
Aerin laughed.

"Hey," Dono exclaimed, "With you sitting here
laughing, you're going to drive off my business!"

"Good, you have taken these poor folks for
enough change already!"

"POOR folks, they throw more than this away
just having their egos washed," Dono rationalized.

Aerin smiled, "Have it your way, but with
practice canceled, I was thinking of doing something fun."

"Naw, I think I'll just sit here and look
miserable," Dono decided.

"Are you sure?  You showed a lot of
interest
yesterday
when I
mentioned meeting the famous Temmen!"

Dono cocked his head to the side in a look of
sudden interest, "What, exactly, are you saying?"

"I'm saying, I'm thinking of going to the
Arena, I hear that the finals are today!"

Dono scooped up his cup and deftly emptied it
into a pocket.  He pulled off the dirty rag that was tied
around his
head
and tossed it then
got to his feet, favoring the bad ankle.

"Don't you need this rickety looking crutch?"
Aerin asked, poking the offending piece of wood with a toe.

Dono laughed, "Naw, the foot is not really
that bad, that stick is just another prop to help out my sale."

"Sale... ha!" Aerin exclaimed, and the two of
them headed for the Arena at the southern end of the city.

"So, tell me about the Arena," Aerin
requested.

"I thought you were the one who wanted to
go?" Dono asked in amusement.

Aerin shrugged, "I just wanted to do
something exciting.  I've never been to a gladiator match
before.  Do they really fight to the death?"

Dono snickered at his friend's naiveté, "Of
course not, though it could happen by accident.  These
are professional fighters.  They fight, and they do
occasionally get wounded, but they know when to hold
back.  After all, if they keep killing each other there
won't be enough gladiators to make the rounds from city to city for
the tournaments."

Aerin frowned, "Then it is all a show, they
don't really fight?"

"No, they fight, and they are really
good.  I bet Tocor was a gladiator once," Dono decided,
though he knew better.  "But Temmen, he's the best there
is, that's why you are the luckiest boy this side of the
Dragonback.  Imagine, Temmen coming to your
rescue!  I bet those Skulls about messed their pants when
they saw him!" Dono exclaimed.

Aerin realized that Temmen was more of a hero
to Dono than he had thought.

"Is Temmen that famous?” he asked Dono.

"Famous!  He is known as the best
gladiator in the world!" Dono said with fervor.

They were getting near the Arena and they
were now joining into the throngs of people all headed for the
large stadium.  They could see the high walls of the oval
Arena standing above the nearest buildings.  Aerin had
never been inside.  Pillars lined the outside of the oval
structure and went up five levels.  Vendors selling
sweetmeats
and cakes were calling
to the passing crowd.  Wine sellers were holding up skins
swelled with the nectar of the grapes.

"Wow," Aerin exclaimed, "this is exciting,
but where do we buy tickets?"

Dono laughed, "Tickets, you have got to be
kidding, this is the finals!  It's standing room
only.  I heard a
challenger
has made it to the semi-final
bout!  That is virtually unheard of; people have been
talking about it for a week.  Have you had your head
buried in sand or something?"

"No, I guess I just wasn't really listening,"
Aerin answered.  "But if it is sold out, how can we get
in?"

"Watch and learn.  How much money
do you have on you?"

"A half-crown, but I don't want to spend all
of that!"  Aerin exclaimed.

"Hmm, that's not really enough, good thing I
came along!"

"If that isn't enough I better not go," Aerin
said, slowing and sounding disappointed.

"Wait, you misunderstand me, it isn't going
to cost you a
half-crown
in the
long run.  Trust me, and give me your money."

Aerin shrugged and fished out the small
silver coin.  It had a triangular hole cut out of the
middle making it a half crown.  He had saved it up from
money Mara had given him for chores.

Dono slowed as they entered the open
cobblestone area before the entrances to the
Arena.  Aerin watched as Dono sized up the various people
standing around.

In a hushed voice Aerin spoke to Dono,
"You're not thinking of picking someone's pocket, I hope."

"No, relax Stupid, and watch.  Make
sure you don't speak," he cautioned.

Dono found a likely man and approached.

"Sar, you wouldn't happen to be selling
tickets to the show?” he inquired.

"Go away child, I don't have time for
games."

"I have money, Sar, given to me by my
Grandmother on her deathbed.  She requested that I have
the money she had saved over the years so that I might have a
better life than she did."

The man's eyebrow rose slightly, "And how
much would that be?"

"Four pennies!" Dono said as if it was a
Prince's ransom.

"Four pennies,
faugh
, that isn't enough to buy you one ticket, let alone
two... be on your way!"

"But, Sar, I have also worked for the past
two years at the mill carrying bags and saved up my own money to
add to that!  All-in-all I have seven pennies!"

"I'm
sorry,
child, but that would barely buy you one ticket at face value,
which is far less than I can get for these two seats to the
finals," he said, showing the tickets in his hand.

Dono started to cry and sat down in front of
the man on the cobblestones.  He held out his hand and
let the tears fall on the coins.

"Stop that!” the man said in consternation;
people were starting to stare.