Authors: Michael McCloskey
Tags: #alien, #knight, #alchemist, #tinkerer
“Yeel belongs here with me,” Vot said.
“He is pledged to my cause,” Jymoor fired
back.
“He cannot change the migrational patterns of
your entire planet. What is happening to your world is an expected
process of friction between indigenous cultures that need to evolve
in conflict so that the natural order can work itself out.”
“I should be able to help you both,” Yeel
said.
An awkward silence grew at
the table. Finally, Jymoor tried a different tack.
“Legrach has offered to
train me to be a warrior although the fenlar, the weapon he uses,
is not a knightly weapon on my world.”
“Ah. It is good to learn
these skills anyway,” Yeel said. “There’s some carry over between
various athletic pursuits. However, I think given the state of
warfare on your own world, and your leadership position there, I’d
best find you a sword master as well. I’m sure one of our travel
companions from the garden will teach you the sword!”
“But they believe me to
be…they don’t know about Avorn.”
“Ah. Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll
find someone upon whose discretion we can rely. Remember, it’s the
armor that is constant, the user changes every decade or
so.”
Jymoor finished eating what
she could, then remained quiet. Vot and her warriors talked a bit,
though Jymoor couldn’t catch the meaning of their words.
After the meal Legrach took
her back to the room she’d seen earlier. He showed her how to
operate the water net, as simple as a touch, then left her alone in
the room to sleep.
“I guess I won’t be Yeel’s
guest tonight,” she said to herself.
Jymoor started to take the moon armor
off.
She knew some of the
strength given by the smooth pearly plates of armor would leave her
once she took it off, but she needed to rest well. Even though her
skin had started to callous from the support straps, she couldn’t
leave the armor on every minute of every day.
But separating herself from the moon armor
had an even greater effect on her mood. As soon as the breastplate
fell off her chest, she felt another weight, a weight of despair,
settle onto her. What chance did she have with Yeel, she a lowly
scout, sent to him almost as a sacrifice, when Yeel interacted with
peers such as Vot? And what chance did she have to learn to take
the place of the Crescent Knight, to lead her people to victory
against the barbarians?
The dark emotions became overwhelming. Jymoor
curled up in the dark room, surrounded by strange sounds and
scents, and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 10: New Studies
When Legrach arrived at her
room, Jymoor was dressed in her armor and ready to go. She felt
better on the new day and nodded to Legrach with
confidence.
“I’d like to see more of the
fortress.”
Legrach nodded. “Of course. Come with me.
Then, I can teach you about being a warrior.”
“Excellent.”
Legrach led her out of her water curtain into
the stone hallway. He opened another water net and showed her a
room down the corridor.
The room held dozens of rubbery sacks. Each
one was the size of a large backpack.
“We keep our food here for emergencies, such
as siege,” Legrach said.
“Sensible. We do the same in our castles on
my world. I assume you have cisterns for water?”
Legrach looked puzzled.
“The lower level of the stronghold has a few
places where the ocean water is accessible from within the walls,”
he said.
“What about fresh water storage?”
“I’ll show you,” Legrach
said. They walked back out to the corridor and took a winding stair
deeper into the fortress. They passed a whole level and kept
walking downward. Finally the stair ended. A glowing sphere lit the
way down a dark passage that opened into a wide chamber. A stone
stair descended right down into greenish water that filled the
lower part of the chamber, flowing from left to right.
“There’s our water, all we
need,” Legrach said.
“It’s not salty like on my
world?”
“It’s fine to drink. Drink
all you want,” Legrach said.
Jymoor looked at Legrach as
if expecting a joke. But when Legrach met her gaze calmly, she
realized it wasn’t a joke. Legrach hadn’t made the slightest joke
since she met him.
She took several steps down
the stair to the water’s edge. She knelt and waved her hand through
the water. It looked clear. She brought a handful to her mouth and
tasted it.
“It is drinkable!”
“How could it be otherwise? If the water is
poisoned on your world, how do you survive?”
“The sea is undrinkable, but
we have rain, and water flows down from mountains…maybe someday I
can show you.”
“Perhaps.” Legrach’s voice
was doubtful.
Legrach led Jymoor into a
room full of large clay vats. Each vat held a different substance
important to Vot. There were containers full of milled grain, fish,
berries, chips of flint, poison harvested from sea predators, and
many other things Jymoor couldn’t identify.
They ascended to the top of
the keep, under the wide-open green sky. Legrach showed her the
four huge ballistae used to defend against attack from land, sea,
and air. Jymoor stared down from the highest tower across the
ocean. Way below, she saw a massive sea creature stir across the
surface. It looked like a gigantic serpent with four long
paddle-arms.
“I see something. It must be even larger than
I think. What is that thing?”
“That’s Tuluk. We live in
his territory. The creature is dangerous, and we give it wide
berth. But Vot forbids us to try and kill it. She says someday, the
Meridalae will besiege us. Then Tuluk may become their problem. As
it is, we’re safe enough here, inside the fortress.”
“And outside?”
“He usually leaves us alone.
We often feed him. But every now and then…he snatches someone up
for a snack.”
“You jest?”
“No.”
“Can he go onto the land?”
“Perhaps a short distance.
But he doesn’t like to. I don’t think he would, unless
provoked.”
Jymoor just nodded.
Legrach led Jymoor down a winding staircase,
out an archway, and into a large courtyard.
“We can train here?”
“Best to find a more
solitary place,” Legrach said. He led her out the gate of the
fortress. They crossed the massive stone bridge Jymoor had used
when she arrived at this place. Another ten minutes of walking and
they found themselves alone among the lizards and rocks.
Legrach looked around, seeking something. He
led her on a slight tangent, until they came to a wide shelf of
stone. The flat rock was at least a hundred paces across in any
direction.
“We can train here,” Legrach
said. “You won’t need the armor. At least not for
training.”
“The armor…gives me
strength!” Jymoor admitted.
“Fair enough, though the
fenlar is a light weapon of speed. Try first without the armor.
Then, when you tire, put it on. I’d like to see the armor’s
effect.”
“Well…that sounds
reasonable. I’ve never used a spear. I don’t have any skill at
swordplay, either. I do know the bow, though. Hardly a knight’s
weapon!”
“I don’t know the
bow.”
“Well, it’s a way to launch
a kind of small spear very quickly. It can travel farther than a
hand-thrown spear.”
“Strange. Small spears don’t
go far, here.”
Jymoor took a fenlar from Legrach. She gave
it a few experimental swings.
“When going into battle the
tip holds a deadly poison,” Legrach said. “But I’ve filled these
with a substance less deadly. They may sting, but not
kill.”
They squared off against each other. Jymoor
took a few swings with her fenlar. Legrach calmly blocked or
retreated as necessary. Jymoor tried to thrust the fenlar at his
legs. Legrach hit her in the center of her chest. She felt the
sharp sting of its venom.
She kept attacking. Legrach calmly defended
for a while, stinging her every now and then. She started trying to
defend herself when the stings became too painful.
“Stop defending yourself. Better to sting me,
and be first. When the stings are deadly, you have to hit me first
at all costs.”
Jymoor nodded.
“Here, I’ll give you two.
Distract me with one and sting with the other. Concentrate only on
offense.”
Jymoor tried very hard, but
she still couldn’t sting Legrach. As she tired, Legrach stopped to
assess her abilities.
“You’re quick on your feet
though your strikes aren’t practiced. We’ll keep
trying.”
Jymoor detected
disappointment in Legrach’s voice. She put on the moon armor,
hoping it would give her the energy she needed to impress
Legrach.
“Dip your helm if I go for the throat,”
Legrach said. “If you must wear armor, then it must be used to your
advantage.”
“I’ll try,” Jymoor
said.
They worked for two more
hours. The moon armor gave Jymoor energy, allowing her to spar for
a long time. She seemed to improve a bit, but she never matched the
speed of Legrach’s attacks.
Finally her mentor called a stop to the
practice.
“You have great stamina. But it is only the
armor. It must be.”
Jymoor removed her helmet. Her face was
dark.
“Of course.”
***
Two days later, Jymoor returned to the House
of Yeel to check on the progress of the caravan headed home. She
wandered through the portal near the bridge road, then found
herself in the fountain room. Afraid to wander the vast halls by
herself, she made herself a small meal and waited in the atrium for
Yeel to show up.
Before long, the tall wizard came into the
chamber.
“That didn’t take long,”
Jymoor said.
“I…sensed company,” Yeel
said. “You know, with my magical powers and all. How is your
training with the fenlar going?” Yeel asked.
“Quite well. Legrach is a
wise teacher, and the fenlar is a quick and deadly weapon,” she
said, feigning optimism. Actually, her studies hadn’t been going
well. Legrach continued to abuse her. It wasn’t the physical
punishment that got to her, but his disdain for her potential. It
was clear Legrach thought he was wasting his time.
“Well, I’ve arranged for
another wise teacher,” Yeel said. “A swordmaster. A female ,
actually, since I noted you were feeling uncomfortable about being
among so many males of your kind!”
“Oh…that’s nice of you,
Yeel! My thanks! Who is this swordmaster?”
“Master Kasil.”
“Master Kasil! The Master
Kasil! She’s legendary! Yeel, how dare I attempt to become her
student?”
“It’s already done. You are
her student, and she’s coming here today to assess your potential.
And she’s sworn to secrecy, no need to worry on that count. Quite a
character she is, by the way, extremely energetic, and very
amorous, for your race, I believe.”
“Amorous?”
“Please do share with me, my friend. What is
this habit of repeating what I say? What does it signify? Are you
merely verifying your reception of my communication or is there a
more subtle—”
“I recall legends of her
being as…shamefully…aggressive with men as with the blade. And even
with women, by some accounts. Did she…?”
Jymoor stammered to a halt. She stared at
Yeel, afraid to continue.
“Did she what?”
“Oh, but she wouldn’t dare.
Not with you. Would she? Yeel, are you…are you and
Vot…amorous?”
It was Yeel’s turn to
stammer.
“Well of course we…I…that is
to say, we are…I mean we’re of the same…the same…we have a lot in
common. I’ve known Vot for a long time, we, we, see things from the
same angle, we share a unique disposition. A
common…ancestry.”
“Oh. OH! You’re related to
her?”
“Um. More closely than to any of your people,
yes.”
“I see! I didn’t know you
were family.”
“Well…”
“I thought you two were…you
know. And I wanted to…and I thought…well, she is a queen, more or
less. And I’m simply a low-born scout.”
“You? You’re a wonderful
friend, a great scout. Why, it was you who finally found me after
all those others failed! And now you’re the Crescent Knight! You’re
moving up in the world. Don’t let your station hold you down. Is
that what we’re talking about? What are we talking
about?”
Jymoor gasped in exasperation.
“Well, did Master Kasil
offer herself to you? Did she make herself available to your
affections? Did she…? Tell me truly, Yeel. You said she was
amorous. Why would you say that?”
“She seemed quite
affectionate, actually! She keeps very little personal space, that
one. Very…touchy-feely, I believe is the phrase used by your kind.
Of course I was flattered, but hardly…I mean it is simply
impossible that she and I, that her and me, that we together could
have a meaningful physical interaction of the romantic
variety!”
Jymoor visibly relaxed.
“Well, of course. Of course. Forgive me,
Yeel. Of course you could not have any such connection with Master
Kasil. Of course not. Why, exactly?”
“Well I, we, there is
no…she’s not really my type, you know.”