The Trials of Lance Eliot (8 page)

Read The Trials of Lance Eliot Online

Authors: M.L. Brown

Tags: #action, #adventure, #Chronicles of Narnia, #C.S. Lewis, #G.K. Chesterton, #J.R.R. Tolkein, #Lord of the Rings, #fantasy, #epic adventure, #coming of age, #YA, #Young Adult, #fantasy

BOOK: The Trials of Lance Eliot
13.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The meal was superb. It began with a salad, which contained a number of interesting vegetables I had never seen before. Then there was mushroom soup and warm bread, followed by a roast wallowing in onions and carrots. The only thing I didn't like was kimchi, a pungent dish consisting of cabbage soaked in some strong liquid (I suspected sulfuric acid) and fermented until its alcohol level reached that of vodka. Had any of the kimchi fallen to the table, I would not have been surprised had the tablecloth caught fire.

We finished with a quivering sort of custard (rather like the Spanish dessert called flan) and tiny cups of sweet wine. I finally lay down my knife and fork with solemn satisfaction, like a conqueror laying down his weapons after a victory.

“Roderick will prepare a bath for you,” said Tamu. The butler slipped out of the room. I thanked my host, bid the company goodnight and trudged up the stairs to my room. The lamps had been lit and a clean pair of pajamas laid out on the bed. I had just removed one shoe when a familiar cough made me start.

“Your bath is ready, sir,” said the butler.

I suppose you've heard of culture shock, the disorientation a chap feels when thrust into a foreign environment. I suffered many jolts of culture shock in that first week in Faurum. To enumerate them individually would require many additional pages—and as I happen to be dying at the moment, I haven't got time to write many additional pages—but I will mention one of the things that jolted me most.

Indoor plumbing had yet to be invented in Rovenia.

An impressive network of sewers ran beneath the city, or so I was told. Citizens minded their business in outhouses, which typically stood a respectable distance from other buildings. Baths were taken indoors. I could never have guessed how many steps it took to prepare a tub of bathwater. Water had to be drawn from a local well or reservoir, carried to the house, heated in kettles and poured into the tub. Most houses had an adjoining bathroom, a literal bath-room, set aside for bathing.

The butler led me to the bathroom. A slab of green soap and a folded towel lay on the floor next to a stone tub like a small swimming pool. It was brimming with hot water. Few things in my life have been quite as wonderful as that bath. Long hours of training had left me bruised and exhausted, and as I slipped into the water I felt like I had gone to heaven. Only when the water was lukewarm did I heave myself out of the tub and go to bed.

I could hardly move when the butler woke me the following morning. “What time is it?” I croaked.

“Six of the clock, sir.”

My mouth was too dry for me to curse, so I said nothing.

The butler coughed, but I was too sleepy even to jump at the noise. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Fetch me some blackroot, would you?”

The butler glided away and returned with a steaming cup. I drained it in two gulps. The stuff blazed its way down my throat and burned in my stomach like vitriol.

“Will that be all?” inquired the butler.

“Absolutely,” I gasped. “Thank you, Roddy.”

There was no time for breakfast. A faint glow had begun to spread across the sky. I would have to move fast to reach Aidan before dawn.

I burst out the front door, dodged a hund-drawn cart and ran up the street, down a flight of stone steps, along a plaza, through an alleyway, down another street, past a row of shops, the length of a park and into the foyer of the military headquarters. The secretary stared as I bent over with my hands on my knees, gasping like a fish out of water.

“Welcome to the headquarters of the Faurum Police and Militia,” she said, setting down her pen. “How may I help you?”

“I'm fine, thanks,” I wheezed, then stumbled through the door and down the corridor toward the training room.

My instructor clapped his hands as I staggered into the room. “You made it. I'm right glad to see you, laddie. You'll start with thirty laps.”

“I'm—not—late,” I protested between gasps.

“I know you're not. If you'd been, it'd have been sixty. Now get moving.”

It's incredible how much the human frame can take. Halfway through the morning I was convinced my heart would pound its way out of my chest. If my heart wasn't the first thing to go, it would be my lungs. My legs could hardly hold up the rest of me, yet I managed to reel through bout after bout with my instructor. Our fights always ended with me on the floor, clutching whatever hurt most, while he offered suggestions for improvement.

He wasn't very encouraging, though not for lack of trying. “You're doing fine, laddie,” he yelled every time he knocked me down. “Another few weeks and you'll be really fit.”

At last, when time seemed to have broken down completely, we stopped for a rest. “The second day of training is the hardest,” he said. “From the third onward, it gets easier and easier till it's as painless as breathing.”

At that moment, my attempts to breathe were causing me a great deal of pain. I tried to scoff, but didn't have enough breath.

It was a long day. At lunch I could hardly eat. Tarkka inspected me with his maddening half-smile, apparently satisfied with my physical breakdown. I was able to rest for an hour or so after lunch as Aidan explained the basic strategies of unarmed combat. Just as I was beginning to relax, he said, “I'd swear this dingy little room is getting smaller every day. Let's get out into the fresh air.”

I was too tired to put up a fight. First we ran to the crest of the hill. Then we descended to the city wall. Then, to my utter dismay, we scaled the hill at a run. Physically speaking, I have never felt so close to death. Aidan decided to finish our session after the run. I think he had finally noticed that I was wavering on the brink of collapse.

“Tell you what, laddie,” he said, sounding a trifle apologetic. “That's enough for one day.”

I thanked him and trudged back to Tamu's house. It was my intention to change my clothes, eat something, have a hot bath and then tumble into bed and never get up again.

Alas, the best laid schemes of mice and men go often askew. The butler met me at the door and said, “A young lady is here to see you, sir.”

6

LANCE ELIOT IS GIVEN BAD NEWS

MAIA STOOD AS I entered the room. “Lance,” she said. “I'm glad to see you.” A pause. “You look awful.”

“I feel awful.”

“Did you really join the Legion?”

“Not exactly,” I said, falling into a chair. “As long as I'm stuck here, I thought I might as well learn something useful.”

Maia burst into an apology. “I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about the delay. I was nervous—I couldn't bring myself to mention it—Lance, I'm so sorry I didn't say anything.”

“It's all right,” I said. “It's like being on holiday. Except for the military training, which was my own mistake.”

We talked for a long time. Maia had been busy with school, in addition to practicing Vocomancy at a local academy for mages.

“Don't you exhaust your magic when you practice?” I asked. “Shouldn't you be storing it up to send me back to Terra?”

“There's more to it than that. It takes hardly any magic to summon simple things, but complex things use up a good deal. Do you know how complex the human body is? Do you have any idea how many organs and veins and things are packed into that skin of yours?”

“I believe you,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “Forget I asked.”

Maia and I parted after a pleasant evening. I finally had my meal and hot bath, then went to bed and slipped into a coma. The following morning, the butler pulled me back to the waking world by opening the windows and stripping the blankets from the bed. The autumn air swept over me like a wave of cold water, making me cough and splutter.

“Your breakfast, sir, as you requested,” said the butler. “It's six of the clock. If you hurry, you will make it to the military headquarters before dawn.”

I bolted my breakfast, gulped my blackroot, resumed my coughing and spluttering, dressed in clean clothes and hurried to meet Aidan. As he had predicted, my third day of training was much less painful than the days before. I even dared to hope I might actually make it through alive.

Every time we passed the armory, I asked Aidan when he would let me use a weapon. He would only laugh and say, “When you're ready, laddie, and not a moment sooner.”

I arrived at the military headquarters before dawn the next day and found the training room empty. Puzzled, I searched the building for my instructor. He was nowhere to be found. When I asked the secretary where he might be, she shrugged and said, “I think today is his day off.”

With Aidan gone and Maia busy with her studies, I fell back to the comforts of the pipe and the bottle. It was a long day. Needless to say, I felt rather worse for the wear at the end of it. When I found Aidan in the training room the morning after, I asked him where he had been.

“I was at the temple.”

“The temple at the top of the hill?”

“Aye, the same.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Listening to a priest read from the Book of El. What else would I be doing there? You've a head on your shoulders, laddie. Use it before asking daft questions.”

“A friend of mine mentioned the Book of El the other day. What is it?”

Aidan's eye opened wide in surprise. “You don't know about the Book of El? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to be so ignorant.”

“Never mind that. What the deuce is the Book of El?”

“Sit down, laddie. The Book of El is the collection of writings given to the people of Rovenia by El Enthroned.”

“And who is El Enthroned?”

Aidan gaped at me like a bewildered Cyclops. “You've not heard of El? Exactly how ignorant are you? No, never mind. I don't want to know. El is the World-maker. He fashioned Gea long ago and appointed twelve Guardians to keep it.”

“Guardians?”

“At the start of things—a very long time ago—El created twelve beings. I'm not sure what to call them.”

“Gods?”

“You could call them gods. Each was given dominion over something. The priests taught me a rhyme about them when I was a child. Let's see if I can bring it to mind.”

He thought for a moment and began to speak softly.

“Twelve are there that keep the world:

Radiant Luxel, keeper of light;

Stern Tel, keeper of time;

Bright Tael, keeper of dreams;

Prudent Ella, keeper of wisdom;

Roving Yeli, keeper of sky;

Mighty Elesh, keeper of seas;

Strong Shelemat, keeper of earth;

Swift Bielya, keeper of rivers;

Vibrant Elek, keeper of plants;

Fierce Achel, keeper of fire;

Wild Zelaph, keeper of beasts;

Kindly Pelea, keeper of men.

And above all these, their Master:

El Enthroned.”

“Interesting,” I said.

Aidan's eye narrowed to a slit. “What do you mean?” he rumbled.

“I think it's interesting,” I repeated. “A synthesis of orthodox monotheism and elemental polytheism. Quite unlike anything I've ever heard of before.”

Well, that was a mistake. Aidan sprang to his feet and towered over me, fire in his eye. “You think it's interesting, do you?” he roared. “El Enthroned, the twelve sacred Guardians—
interesting
?
What's the matter with you?”

It took him several minutes to calm down. I apologized, assured him I had meant no disrespect and made a mental note never to discuss religion with my instructor again.

My sessions with Aidan became steadily less difficult. If Tamu hadn't insisted on serving such extravagant meals night after night, I think I would have become quite fit. My host and I shared many conversations over the dinner table. I came to feel rather fond of the old chap. He continued to provide my weekly allowance, which I spent on drink and tobacco. I received much more money than I needed and accumulated a tidy sum as the days went by.

Other books

Return to Sender by Julie Cross
Songs of Love and War by Santa Montefiore
Shades: Eight Tales of Terror by D Nathan Hilliard
Counting by 7s by Holly Goldberg Sloan