Wielder's Awakening (44 page)

Traven took a deep breath and stepped up to the shooting line.  He looked at the target far down the range.  How had he gotten himself into this?  He should have stopped it.  Why had he not said something and refused to shoot?  It was too late now.  Everyone was watching, and he was going to look like a fool in front of all of the soldiers and the Princess.  He was going to be a laughing stock after this.

With effort, Traven dismissed those thoughts from his head and tried to focus.  Blaize had given him good advice earlier in the day, and he intended to follow it.  He knew that the advice was as good for an archer as it was for a swordsman.  Blaize had told him that he needed to concentrate and clear his mind.  Traven tried to do as Blaize had instructed.  Out went the jeers and encouragement from the crowd.  Out went the frustration.  Out went the nervousness.  Out went the fear.  He continued to shut out everything, clearing his mind and focusing only on the target far down the range.

Traven stared at the small red circle in the center of the target as hard as he could.  As he concentrated on it, the world around him slowly faded away.  In the far distance he could feel the familiar warmth against his chest that always accompanied him when he did his sword forms in the mornings.  All that he saw and knew was the small red dot in the distance that seemed to slowly be growing larger.  The dot continued to grow larger and larger as it began to rush towards him, filling his vision.  When the giant red circle finally came to a rest, Traven focused on the very center of it.  He then smoothly released his first arrow.

The arrow thudded silently into the very center of the bull’s-eye.  With the red circle still filling his vision, Traven released a second arrow that he did not even remember cocking.  Outside of his world, a gasp escaped from the crowd and everyone fell absolutely silent.  The second arrow had slid right into the first, splitting it in half.  Still only knowing the center of the red circle, he released another arrow that instantly came to rest in the center, splitting the second arrow as the second had split the first.  The fourth arrow soon found its home embedded in the other three.  Traven cocked his final arrow and began to let go.

Pain, fire, burning!

Traven screamed as a piercing pain ripped through his focus.  The arrow left his bow wildly and flew high over the target, embedding itself in the ground far beyond as he clutched at his chest.  With the pain, reality came flying back into his consciousness.  He realized that everyone was staring at him silently with wide eyes.  Traven gazed from the wide-eyed crowd, to the confused Princess, to the concerned Blaize.  He then let his bow fall to the ground as he hurriedly trotted off the field and into the barracks with his hand still on his chest.

Traven hurried into the barracks and to his bed.  He pulled off his shirt and sat down.  Breathing heavily, he lifted the now only warm might stone from his chest.  He could easily make out the angry red burn that it had caused.  What was he going to do?  The distraction had only cost him winning the archery match, but in a battle it could cost him his very life.  He decided that he needed to see Philosopher Studell immediately.  Maybe he would know how to prevent such a thing from happening again.  Traven changed into his fine black clothes so that he would have no problems being admitted to the back of the library where he hoped to find the philosopher.

Without paying attention to where he was going, Traven continued though the barracks, out through the fields, and into the streets of the city on foot.  His thoughts were racing from one thing to another.  From the might stone, to the Princess, to magic, to Blaize, to the searing burn on his chest.  He hoped the philosopher could help him.  If not, he didn’t know what he would do.  Finally calming himself down, he realized that he was in a narrow, dark alley that he didn’t remember having walked into.

In the solitude of the quiet alley, he pulled the amber stone from the inside of his shirt once again.  It now only gave off its normal warmth.  Traven had no idea what had caused it to become so hot.  It was the third time that it had happened now.  What could possibly be the benefit of the magic stone growing incredibly hot so sporadically?  He considered taking the stone from around his neck but could not do it.  He had worn it every day since his father had died.  He tucked the stone back into his shirt, hoping it would not heat up again anytime soon.

Traven looked up and down the alley, trying to figure out which way would lead him to a main street.  He couldn’t remember from what direction he had come, and with the tall buildings rising above him, he couldn’t tell were the sun was.  He decided to walk to the nearest bend in the alley.  As he turned down it, he found himself face to face with a rabid dog.  The animal was huge!  He stared back at the dog’s blood thirsty eyes for a moment before turning and running the other way as fast as he could.

The dog gave chase, bellowing as it closed in on him.  Traven turned down a side alley and then down another as the large dog remained right on his heels.  Skidding down another narrow alleyway, Traven threw his hand over his face as he passed a large pile of putrid refuse.  He continued down the alley as fast as he could and turned as it turned.  Happily, he saw that the alley let out on to a larger street.  He also noticed that the rabid dog was no longer giving him chase.  Letting out a sigh of relief, he slowed to a walk and tried to calm himself down.  He then slowly backed out into the light of the small street, making sure the dog was not going to reappear.  As he left the alley, he immediately heard a muffled scream.

30

Kadrak stepped back from his screeing dish and kicked its stand in frustration, knocking the wooden stand and the dish to the ground.  The polished silver dish clanged against the cold stones of the cave, sending a loud ring into the quiet darkness.  He had given it his all but hadn’t been able to penetrate the fog.  At least whoever had the artifact was still in Calyn.  He had pushed the fog far enough back to know that.  Wraith was still there too.  He knew he could trust the crafty assassin to take care of it, but Kadrak didn’t like leaving things up to chance.  He wished that Wraith would take care of the problem quicker and return with the artifact.

Turning from the back of the shallow cave, Kadrak headed out of the chill darkness and into the warmth of the late afternoon sun.  Gazing over the large camp, he couldn’t help smiling despite his defeat while screeing.  His troops were anxious.  His troops were ready.  They would reach the walls of Rankdra in a few days, and soon he would be dining in his new palace.  In a few days, the whole world would know of him and fear his name.

* * * * *

Kalista let her bow slip out of her hand and fall to the ground in amazement as she watched the young man put arrow on top of arrow.  She had never seen anyone shoot so well in all of her life.  He appeared so calm, and the arrow went from quiver, to bow, to the center of the target all in one fluid motion.  She had never seen anything like it before.  As the young man began to loose his fifth arrow, Kalista jumped as he suddenly let out a piercing scream.  The arrow soared off into the field as the young man clutched at his chest and dropped his bow.

The look of pain left the young man’s face and was replaced by one of panic.  He glanced at the crowd and then at her with intense eyes.  The young man then glanced at General Blaize before hurrying off the field and into the barracks.  Kalista stood there stunned, trying to figure out what had just happened.  Behind her the soldiers began to talk wildly of what they had just seen, but the rowdy crowd was soon dispersed and sent back to their training by General Blaize and the other officers.  Soon only Gavin and the large general remained.

“Well that was certainly fascinating,” Gavin said.

“I wonder what happened to him,” replied Kalista.  “He was shooting so well, and then he just, well I do not know what that was all about.”

“Oh, do not worry about it, my Princess,” General Blaize said.  “I am sure he is fine.  He has been training so hard that he probably just needs a little rest.”

Kalista could tell that the large general was concerned for the young man despite his calm exterior.

“What is his name?” Kalista asked.

“His name is Traven, my Princess.”

Kalista rolled the name around in her head, an interesting name for sure.

“You know, General Blaize,” Gavin cut in, “I think what you just said about the boy needing a little rest from training is relevant for all of the soldiers.  You saw how excited they became at the little archery match.  Do you think it would benefit them to have a few days free before making the final preparations for the march?”

“I think it might do a lot for their spirits, Commander General,” the large general replied after thinking for a second.  “I could have it announced tonight at dinner.”

Gavin thanked General Blaize and began to discuss the specifics.  When they had cleared up the matter, Gavin began asking a long list of questions about more of the preparations for the march.  Kalista listened for a while but soon was bored by the endless list.  With all of the necessary preparations on his mind, Gavin had forgotten that she was even there.  She decided that she had already had enough excitement for one afternoon with the archery match and all.  She might as well return back to the palace.

“If you both will excuse me, I am going to head back to the palace.”  Gavin looked back at her, remembering her presence.

“If you wish, my dear,” he said.

With her confirmation, Gavin called for her guards to accompany her.  Gavin squeezed her hand with a smile in farewell, and General Blaize bowed.  Kalista mounted her mare and headed away from the barracks with her escort, two guards in front, one on either side, and two behind.  She was feeling tired, and it would be nice to have a small nap before dinner.  The small party was soon across the barracks’ field and into the streets of the city.

As they rode, Kalista contemplated once again what had happened during the archery match.  It was strange that she kept running into the young soldier.  She could hardly believe it when he had stepped forward to challenge her on the archery range.  He had looked so afraid before he started shooting that she had been sure he must not have practiced much.  But with the way he shot, she knew her initial impression had been wrong once again.  She concluded that he must just be a timid person.  Almost every time she saw him he appeared nervous.  She was ashamed to admit to herself that for some reason she found his nervousness attractive even though she was engaged to Gavin.  She wasn’t sure why, but she hoped she would not run into him anymore.

The Princess was jerked out of her thoughts by a loud crash down the street.  Her front guards pulled up as their hands went to their swords, but soon they were calm and relaxed once again.  Kalista booted her mare forward to see what had happened.  About a block down the street an interesting event was unfolding.  A large wagon lay sideways in the center of the street.  It had apparently been heavily laden with barrels of wine, for now the barrels lay everywhere in the street, several still rolling.  She could not tell from her vantage point what had caused the wagon to tip over.  She could see, however, the result of the spill.  More than a few of the barrels had cracked when they hit the cobbled stone of the street, allowing the tasty nectar within to spill out, staining the light stones with brilliant crimson.

Most of the peasants in the crowded street watched the scene as they each tried to explain to one another what had happened.  A few rascals, however, had other ideas in mind.  She watched as several young men timidly approached a barrel whose contents were slowly streaming to the street in a low arc.  One of the young men dropped to his hands and knees, and tilting his head under the tasty stream, began to steal a drink.  Kalista searched the crowd for the owner of the wagon, but whoever was the owner was nowhere to be found.  Some of the onlookers also noticed that the owner was not present when the young men were not chased away.  Gaining courage, several more in the crowd moved forward to join the young men.  They began to sing as they drank the sweet wine.  Soon most of the crowd had joined in the festivities.

The way was soon impassable as the crowd grew larger and larger as word of what had happened spread.  Hundreds of people were singing, dancing, and enjoying the free, expensive wine.  Kalista had thought of ordering her guards to step in, but seeing the excitement in the eyes of her subjects she had decided to leave the matter alone.  If the owner of the wine brought the case to the City Watch or the palace, she would gladly reimburse him.  The City Watch soon arrived, but seeing that the Princess was not concerned with the ever growing celebration, they contented themselves with watching from the rim of the crowd to make sure that no one took the celebration too far.