To Be Chosen (27 page)

Vance summoned the potential for, Sleep, and focused on the One-bolt Accomplished. She slipped into unconsciousness. He then summoned the potential for Condemnation and focused. Twin beams of red-gold light shot from his eyes and struck her. After ten heart beats her will was his, after twenty heart beats her fiery hair fell to the floor, and thirty heart beats allowed him to make a few adjustments to her face, so no one would recognize her, and then he stopped. Causing her to sleep throughout the Condemnation had nothing to do with compassion, it was the noise; He simply could not abide shouting and screaming. She woke up and stared blankly at him.

“Why didn’t you strip off her silks and rearrange her entire body?” Rex inquired, seeming a littl
e disappointed.

“She is mine to command for the rest of her life, which is all I really need. It is obvious she would never ally with us, so now she will serve in this capacity. Anything beyond this level of condemnation is a waste of my time. I have nine more in this room and over a thousand waiting for me back at Serpent North who will require my attention. I prefer willing partners with whom I can make accommodations, but our army must grow for the war that will shortly begin, and I will prepare for it one way or the other,” Vance took the time to explain, mostly because he was considering elevating the assassin to second in command. The Two-bolt had sharp instincts and knew his goals would be best accomplished by serving the man who would be the next Maestro of the guild.

“A practical way to look at it and I can see how it would put you way ahead of Serin Gell,” Rex stated, showing he too had been visited by the Supreme Maestro and knew the pair of Three-bolts were vying for the same position.

Vance began the same process of condemnation on the remaining nine captives while discussing the assassinations. “King Jarred is to take a fatal fall from his balcony. Prince Romin is to die with an arrow in his throat, and Prince Xaan and his horse must plunge to their deaths off
Jerdin Falls; all must appear to be tragic accidents, you must not be seen, and the Serpent Guild’s involvement must not be suspected. Start with Romin. Prince Xaan will eventually go to the falls, it is his place for solitude, and then he must die. The King will go out on the south balcony, as is his morning custom, and that is when he is to drop to his death. All of these accidents need to occur before Prince Xavier crosses from Ducaun into Pentrosa.”

“It will be as you say,” Rex assured him. “What about events in the south, has
Jordan and his team succeeded?”

“Simms has not reported the progress of his assignment. But I know exactly what has happened, being a Senior Soarer, the Eagle Guild Communication Coordinator keeps me informed. Serin Gell has escaped and more than half of
Jordan’s team perished in the undertaking. They went to Gell’s nest in Lamont, were tracked there by Jeremiah Lassiter and a Fledging. Gell Condemned the Senior Soarer, and left the Fledging for dead. Samuel Cresh survived with only the loss of his right hand. He traveled to Tannakonna where Bella Sander is now stationed and gave a full report. I do not believe Gell knows the Fledgling survived or even who he was,” Vance replied.

“It was my understanding that all guild activities were to be covert. Serin Gell is making a lot of noise and calling attention to himself and us,” Rex correctly pointed out.

“In Gell’s case there was no way to be discreet when freeing him from the Eagle Guild, but he is getting sloppy leaving witnesses behind. I was only able to recruit a fraction of his network into mine and their loyalty is yet to be firmly established. Most of his associates are in hiding, perhaps fearing my wrath for not reporting to Serpent North when I gave the order. Serin will activate his team and then after I am appointed Maestro, will bring the entire network into submission to me. My goals are set and the plans to bring them to fruition are in motion. I have been brewing civil unrest in Taracopa for over a year and have made inroads to the royal families of Fon Kay, Zune, and Demfilia. When the time is right, I will pull all of the strings and everything I have worked for will come together, and the world will be at war,” Vance explained in greater detail than in the past. “You will have a prominent place in the unfolding of those events.”

Rex smiled and gave a slight bow of the head. “I look forward to my future roll, but first I have some accidents to arrange,” he replied and then went off to perform his tasks.

Vance continued to condemn the captives. Phil Nettle, the One-bolt Accomplished suspending the captives, released each one at the completion of the spell. When the process was over nine bald commoners, all men, and one bald woman stood waiting to receive any order Vance Cummin chose to give. “You will obey Accomplished Nettle until I say otherwise,” he commanded. It simply was not practical or wise to have thousands of Condemneds only obeying his voice. His was supreme, of course, but assigning ten Condemneds to each Accomplished seemed to be much more efficient, and that was the key to ultimate victory, efficiency.

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Daniel was in the Whetstone, a huge indoor facility where the royal guardsmen honed, trained, and practiced their martial skills. Sections were set aside for archery, sword training, empty handed fighting, and halberd wielding. The arrows were real and some of the men were practicing with actual blades and halberds, but most were using wooden blades and poles with padded heads, all with the same weight and balance the weapons would have. He promised Marcus he would keep up with the sword training and this was the place to be.

He was already a master-of-the-bow, so was not interested in working in that section. Empty handed fighting looked interesting, but practicing with the sword was his focus, so he walked over to that section and grabbed a wooden blade from the many slots in the wall in which they were sheathed. These were modeled after broadswords and so the weight was greater than what he was used to. At least a hundred men were using the facility and twenty-two in the section with him, but they would glance at him and then pretend he was not among them. Perhaps it was unusual for a Knight of the Realm to visit the Whetstone. He began practicing what Marcus had taught him, thrusts and parries, but the exercise was merely that, exercise, and was not very fulfilling or remotely challenging.

“Begging your pardon, Sir Daniel,” a tenor voice came from behind.

Daniel turned and found himself facing a mountain of a man, mostly muscle, with dark curly hair and who stood a good hand taller than he. “What can I do for you Sergeant?” he replied after noticing the doubl
e stripes on the man’s sleeves.

“I was just wondering why a person of eminence such as yourself would choose to practice your skills among us commoners?” the Sergeant replied. He was holding one of the polls with the padded heads.

“Simple reasons,” Daniel told him while resting the point of his practice sword on the floor. “It wasn’t very long ago that I was a commoner, so I haven’t learned how to keep my nose in the air yet. And I need the practice.”

The Sergeant smiled. “Good enough reasons. How about you and I go a few rounds with the practice halberd?”

Daniel was not particularly interested in that weapon but was so desiring of a challenge that he accepted the invitation. “I never held that weapon but let’s have at it for awhile.”

“I’m Sergeant Keenan. If you will, come this way,” he replied and led him to the halberd section where two men within a broad circle went at each other, swinging the padded poles, ducking, jumping, thrusting, and parrying, until one clou
ted the other on the head.

Ten identical circles were in this area and Keenan went over to a stand which held twenty poles with padded heads, pulled one up and hurled it at Daniel, who snatched it out of the air with his left hand, having never touched a halberd did not mean his reflexes were so poor he could not catch one. The Sergeant’s eyes widened, clearly he did not expect such a good catch. Daniel dropped the wooden sword and swung the pole, getting a feel for the balance of the thing.

They entered the first circle on the right and Keenan came at Daniel swinging the pole as if it weighed hardly anything at all. Daniel brought the end of his pole up just in time to keep from being clouted in the head. He did not have his personal shield up, had not since arriving in Ducanton. Any hit he took here would earn bruises. Keenan kept coming at him, jabbing and swinging the pole in a blur and it was all Daniel could do to keep from being hit, actually going on the offensive did not even occur to him. Keenan’s pole suddenly slipped down, bringing the Sergeant’s hand in contact with the base of the padded head while the other end swung down and around, sweeping Daniel’s feet out from under him, and in a blur the padded head came back, slamming into his chest.

“You are now dead on the field,” Keenan told him.

“You show’em Serge,” a tall corporal in the circle nearest them called out.

Daniel stood back up. “Shall we have another go?”

Keenan smiled. “My pleasure,” he stated and then brought his pole around in an arc.

Daniel parried and came back swinging. Like the first match, it took all he had to keep from getting hit. Not long into the bout, the Sergeant’s pole slipped the way it had in the first round. Daniel leapt above the swing meant to sweep him off his feet and brought the padded end down on the top of Keenan’s head. The Sergeant dropped to the floor, but the padding on Keenan’s pole struck Daniel’s right calf as it fell, although it caused him no harm. He offered his hand to his opponent, who allowed himself to be pulled back on his feet.

“You’re a fast learner, I’ll grant you that, but if this had been an actual fight with real halberds, I would be dead and you would be sorely wounded and ready to be killed by the next person you faced. Always know where your opponent’s blade is, or else the victory could be your last. Even so it was a worthy bout, there’s good metal in you,” Keenan said.

“Thank you for the words, but mostly for not going easy on me,” Daniel replied.

Keenan gave a chuckle. “Your opponent in battle will not go easy on you and don’t ever forget it.”

“I will keep it in mind,” Daniel replied.

“A halberd is not the weapon of a Royal Knight of the Realm,” said a pointed nosed, wiry dark-haired man in the green uniform of the cavalry, with the gold pin striping on the pants and coat. On each shoulder pad he had a silver bar. But what really stood out was the lightning bolt on his sword hilt and scabbard, marking him a Master-of-the-blade.

Keenan frowned at the interruption or maybe he did not much care for the newcomer. “Sir Daniel this is Lieutenant
Cale Tomei,” he stated stiffly.

“Pleased to meet you Lieutenant Tomei,” Daniel replied and offered his hand at the same time the cavalryman saluted. There was an awkward moment when Daniel tried to return the salute while the Lieutenant brought his hand down to be shaken.

“I’m pleased to finally meet you,” Tomei replied as their hands clasped.

“I came here to sharpen my sword work,” Daniel told him. “The bow and the knife are what I am most familiar with, the sword not so much.”

Tomei glanced toward the sword section. “Step over there, we can have a practice bout, and see how much sharpening needs to be done.”

Daniel was pleased to have someone to spar with, although held no delusions of actually prevailing. “Very well,” he replied, tossed the padded pole to Keenan, picked up the practice sword, and went
to the area indicated.

This section had ten circles as well and all but three were in use. Every man stopped when Cale Tomei stepped into the circle with Daniel. It is not often one gets the opportunity to watch a Master-of-the-blade in action. It was time to find out if the days practicing with Marcus were enough to allow Daniel to stand toe to toe against a master. Daniel smiled at the thought and wondered how short this match was going to be, he doubted it would be very long.

Daniel stood in the ready position with his blade forward and pointed slightly up. Tomei stood seemingly at ease with his practice sword pointed down. One moment he was standing still, the next he moved as if his legs were spring loaded. The blade was a blur and Daniel was struck three times in the chest area before he could move his blade, any one of the three hits would have been mortal if steal had been used. As it was, Daniel knew he was going to have bruises.

All of the guardsmen applauded Tomei, who took a bow, and then ignored them, turning to his opponent. “Let me guess, you have been taught by a competent ex-soldier.”

Daniel nodded his head. “Yes, by my Captain-of-the-Guard.”

Tomei stared at him for awhile. “I was watching your bout with the Sergeant. You have quick reflexes, and apparently plenty of stamina,”
the stamina came from the extra life force energy all Aakacarns possess to one degree or another but the blade master could not know that, “those qualities give me something to work with. I will teach you the forms if you want to learn.”

Be taught by a master, the idea certainly appealed. “When can we start?” Daniel replied after deliberating for several heart beats.

“We can begin today. I have a little time before I go on duty. Put away that stick, we will not spar again for awhile, at least until you know enough of the forms to make it not so one sided. There is nothing to be gained for either of us until then. You would learn nothing beyond the impossibility of beating me. I’m ranked as one of the top ten blades in the world, certainly the greatest in Ducaun,” Tomei said, and there was no mistaking the arrogance in his voice, except what he stated was true.