The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) (15 page)

At the sound of marching feet outside, Vatar pushed back
from the breakfast table. He stood up and headed for the door, followed by Orleus
and Quetza. Everyone else trailed behind. They stepped out onto the wide porch
in time to see a full squad of the Temple Guard parade past. Theklan hid behind
one of the supporting posts at the sight.

“That’s odd,” Vatar said. “The Temple Guard don’t usually
come up this far in squads like that. I wonder why.”

Orleus’s lips thinned. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it had to
do with you. Just a little reminder. Nothing that would break their word to
you.”

Vatar looked back over his shoulder at Arcas hovering by
Elaria’s elbow. Elaria’s eyes were wide. Sky above and earth below! She—and
Arcas—would never relax and accept his magic this way. His eyes shifted to the
other side of the porch, where Theklan was clearly trying to make himself as
small as possible behind the shelter of the pillar. His eyes narrowed. “The
Council—”

“Oh, I doubt it was the Council,” Orleus said. “Or not all
of it. More likely my mother or one of her cronies.”

Vatar stiffened, but then he glanced toward Theklan and
forced his tone to be light. “Well, as long as they stay in the road, they’re
nothing to do with us.” He smiled at Thekila and clapped Theklan on the
shoulder as he passed on his way to his forge.

Orleus followed him.

Vatar shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done about it,
Orleus. As you said, they haven’t broken their pledge.”

Orleus shrugged. “I just wanted to check on those blades
you’ve been making for me.”

“They’re coming along well.” Vatar pulled out the completed
knives, spear points, and arrowheads. “I’ve got a few still to make. And the
knives don’t have hafts yet.”

Orleus turned a knife blade over in his hands. “I’ve never
seen finer blades and points than yours.” He paused and looked up at Vatar.
“Can you make swords?”

Vatar blinked. “Swords? I know how, but . . .”

“But?”

Vatar shrugged. “Swords take much longer to make. It’s a
very precise and lengthy process. Wouldn’t you rather go to the master sword
smith?”

Orleus laughed. “That’s a first. A Caerean trying to turn
down business. Don’t let Arcas hear you.” He set the knife blade down and
picked up an arrowhead. “I’d far rather have you make my new sword.”

“I’ll never finish a sword before the last ship of the
season sails. You’d have to come back for it next spring.” Vatar paused. “Or, I
suppose we could carry it out to Zeda and you could pick it up there. It’s not
as far from Tysoe as Caere.”

Orleus shrugged again. “I haven’t finished recruiting, yet.
And I can train my recruits in Caere at least as well as I could in Tysoe. It’s
not as if there’s a lot for the Guard to do during the winters in Tysoe. Too
much snow for maneuvers. As long as I get the new recruits out by the time the
snow melts, I’ll have done what I was sent to do.”

“All right,” Vatar said. “You’ll need to tell me what you
like and don’t like about the sword you carry now,” Vatar said. “I have to know
what kind of blade I’m making before I can even begin to form the blank.”

Orleus drew his sword from the scabbard at his hip and
passed it over to Vatar. “Hmm. Well, I’d like something a little longer.
Something that’s more designed for use either mounted or on foot. The common
issue sword isn’t really meant for mounted battles. It’s more made to be just
as useful hacking through the forest as in battle.” He shrugged. “The forest
around Tysoe isn’t as thick as it was when we first settled the area and, if
we’re going to be operating out in the Land between the Rivers, forests are
going to be much less of an issue. That’s more open country with just some
copses of trees by the rivers and scattered stands of scrubby brush and stunted
trees in the low places.” Orleus grinned. “Besides, as Captain of the Guard,
it’s not my job to hack a path through forest or scrub brush. That’s what the
new recruits are for.”

Vatar hefted the sword, considering. “A longer blade will be
heavier. There are some things I can do to offset that without weakening the
blade.”

They talked the pros and cons of various blade designs for a
while.

As Vatar handed his sword back to him, Orleus said. “You
should make a sword for yourself, too. I’ll train you.”

Vatar’s eyes narrowed. “I like my spear. Anyway, I don’t see
why I would need a sword, Orleus. It’s not a Dardani weapon. And the High
Council gave their word to leave me and my family alone.”

Orleus gestured back toward the road where the Temple Guard
had marched past a little while before. “It never hurts to be prepared.” He
picked up the spear point Vatar had made for him and turned it over in his
hand. “Maybe you’re right to stick to the weapon you’re comfortable with. Especially
that spear of yours. It reminds me of Tabeus’s spear in some ways. You know,
Boreala says you sang power and purpose into it.”

Vatar opened his mouth to protest. He hadn’t been aware of doing
anything of the kind at the time. Even if it was true, he wouldn’t know how to
repeat it. And yet, he couldn’t deny that his fondness for that spear was more
than merely sentimental. There was
something
about that spear and the
others he’d made for the tiger hunt.

Orleus closed his hand around the spear point he held. “It’s
nowhere near as strong, of course, but I can feel something like that from
these blades, too. It’s almost as if they whisper “protection” to me. That’s
why I want
you
to make my new sword.” He set the spear point down. “I
could still teach you a few tricks with the spear, though. From what I’ve seen,
the Dardani use spears only to hunt, not to fight.”

“Oh we use them to fight, too. When we must. Usually against
the Themyri.” Vatar paused. “Actually, we’re most comfortable with lances.”
Vatar looked out toward the road and chewed his lip. “I’ll think about it.”

Orleus nodded. “In fact, I think it would be a good idea for
all of us to take a bit of weapons training, just in case. Everyone would feel
safer, I think, if they knew they could defend themselves. It’d be especially
good for Theklan’s confidence. He’s going to work himself up to nightmares if
we don’t give him some outlet for his fears—and a way to overcome them. I’ve
trained enough raw recruits to have seen that before.”

Vatar thought back on Theklan’s tense face as he hid behind
the post. “I think you’re right about that. Theklan’s a little young for a
sword though. Or even a spear.”

Orleus acknowledged this with a wave of his hand. “A bit.
Too young for archery or the javelin, too. But there’s nothing wrong with
starting off with a nice quarter staff.”

Vatar sighed. “Training won’t help Elaria, though.”

Orleus acknowledged this with a nod. “It might make Arcas
feel better about being able to protect her, though, if he’ll join us. And
that, in turn, might help her relax.”

~

Vatar and Orleus made the proposal to all of them at the
next meal. Quetza and Theklan agreed enthusiastically.

Thekila shrugged. “I think it’s a good idea. I’m just not
sure even you can teach me much of use. I’ll always be so much smaller than
just about anyone I might need to fight.”

Orleus studied her through narrowed eyes. “True. Size
doesn’t matter much with the bow, though. I can train you as an archer. You
should learn to use a dagger, too. And I can teach you a few moves that’ll help
even your odds, even with your bare hands.” He grinned. “Actually, you’d have a
fairly powerful advantage of surprise.”

Vatar shifted uneasily. He didn’t like the thought of
Thekila ever having to fight. He should be the one to protect her. And, if it
ever became necessary, he’d prefer to have her use her magic to stop any enemy
at a distance. Then he thought of the three large extended families of Valson
who’d chosen exile along with the three teens who’d harassed and attacked him
before he reached the Valley. They’d made their enmity clear and he’d never
been able to dismiss them as a threat. Thekila’s magic would be only a partial
defense against them, since they had the same Powers. Maybe it wouldn’t be such
a bad idea for her to learn to defend herself. Hopefully, she’d make a better
archer than he was. He took her hand. “Join us.”

Thekila smiled at Vatar and then turned to Orleus. “I’ll be
glad to learn what I can.”

Orleus nodded. “Good. I’ll pair you with Theklan, to start.
You two are the closest in size. Quetza and I already spar from time to time.”
He turned to Arcas. “Arcas, you’d be the nearest in size and strength to Vatar.
Won’t you join us?”

Arcas looked around the group. “You won’t be using magic,
will you?”

Orleus cast a quick look at Vatar. “No magic. Just
straightforward weapons training. Same as I give my new recruits. None of them
have much magical Talent or they wouldn’t be joining the Guard.”

Arcas looked back toward Elaria and nodded. “It would be a
good thing to know, even if I never have to use it.”

~

They trained, usually in pairs, for an hour in the morning
and again in the afternoon, when Orleus returned from his recruiting.

One day when Arcas couldn’t join them because of commitments
at the Merchants’ Guild, Orleus pulled Vatar aside. “While it’s just us, I’d
like to try a few things with that shield of yours, if you can do it without
hurting yourself. That could be very useful in a fight.”

Vatar turned his spear in his hand. “I don’t know. It
doesn’t seem to work the same way each time I use it.”

Orleus’s brows drew down. “How many times have you used it?”

“Just three. The time I deflected the bear from Thekila. I
passed out that time, but I don’t know if it was because of the bear hitting
the shield or because I came close to burning myself out.”

“The damage you nearly did to your Powers would be enough to
cause you to lose consciousness,” Quetza said.

Vatar nodded. “Then I kept Theklan from being trampled by a
bull during our crossing from Zeda. It worked, but I had the wind knocked out
of me. It felt as if the bull hit me, instead of the shield. But, when I used
the shield in the Council Chamber, to deflect the candlestick, I didn’t feel
anything.”

Orleus shrugged. “Maybe you’re just getting better at it.”

Vatar shook his head. “I don’t think so. If I was getting
better at it, I’d at least start to know what I was doing. It’s been mostly
instinct all three times.”

“All right,” Quetza said. “Let’s see if we can figure this
out. Set the first time aside for the moment, since you remember the least
about it. What was different between the last two times?”

Vatar paced a few strides and then back. “The level of danger.
Theklan could have been killed. I would only have been bruised by the
candlestick. And I probably could have ducked, anyway.”

“Yes. I also notice that in one case you were protecting
someone else. And you were protecting yourself in the other.” Quetza’s brow
furrowed. “If the bond between you and Thekila is serving the same purpose as
the twin-bond did for Tabeus and Taleus, maybe the difference was in how
Thekila reacted.”

Thekila wrapped one red curl around her finger, unwound it,
and then twisted it around her finger again while her brow furrowed in thought.
“I don’t think I was even aware of it the first time until afterwards. The
second . . . the second time I was terrified, both for Theklan and that Vatar
would injure himself again.”

“And the third time?” Quetza asked.

“I was following Vatar and Theklan with a distance viewing.”
Thekila smiled. “He was so impressive, standing up to the High Council like
that. And when that woman threw the candlestick at him, I was so angry. I was
glad that he could use the shield to deflect it. It was so much more dramatic
than having to duck.”

Quetza tapped her chin. “I see. So when you were against him
using the shield, he felt the impact. And when you supported him, he didn’t.”

“Do you think that’s the difference?” Vatar asked.

Quetza shrugged. “I don’t know. This is all new to me, too.”

“Well, it’s the best idea we’ve got,” Orleus said. “And it’s
easy enough to test. We’ll just try it with Thekila helping you and then with
her resisting you.”

“Where?” Vatar asked. “We’re too visible out here in the
courtyard. It wouldn’t help anything for Elaria to look out and see us using
magic as soon as Arcas is away.”

Orleus’s brows drew together.

Quetza arched an eyebrow at Theklan. “There’s a relatively
sheltered space behind the guest house. We might be visible to the neighbor on
that side, but no one else.”

“Good.” Orleus gathered up as many windfall apples as he
could carry. “Ammunition,” he said as they all headed around to the back of the
guest house.

Vatar checked the neighboring fields, but the farmer was
nowhere in sight. A little pile of apple cores and an old horse blanket
indicated that Theklan, at least, had known of this spot and used it to hide
out, dodging chores or lessons. That was likely how Quetza had found it, when
she was looking for him. Vatar gave the boy a sympathetic smile. Too bad that
Theklan’s hideout had been exposed, but this was probably the best place they
could find for this kind of practice.

 Orleus gestured for Vatar to move down to the fence
line. “All right, I’m going to throw one of these apples at you, Vatar.
Thekila, I want you to support him, this time. Try to think the same way you
did when you were watching him confront the High Council. Ready?”

Vatar and Thekila both nodded. Orleus threw the first apple.
Vatar blinked. Nothing happened when he tried to raise his shield. He ducked
just in time as the apple sailed past his ear.

“I thought you were going to use your shield,” Orleus said.

Vatar shrugged. “I’ve only ever done it when I was scared or
angry. And I’ve never paid much attention to
what
I was doing.”