Legon Awakening

chapter Ten

The Compass of Time



“I remember the first time my eyes were opened. From that point on I’ve had a hard time taking things at face value. Most people and things are so much more than what they seem. The question is, do you want to see what they are, and how do you know you’re seeing the correct thing?”

- Conversations in the Garden



Legon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way that this was happening, no way that Arkin was telling the truth, but he knew he was.

“You’re an Elven agent and I am your mission?” he asked, just to confirm. Arkin looked put out. This probably wasn’t how he had planned on breaking the news to him.

“Yes, Legon, I am. You want to ask a lot of questions, but not now. Right now we need to move camp for the night. I promise you will have lots of time to ask questions. You have that right, and I won’t stop you.”

Time was not moving all that fast right now, and Legon’s brain was not working at the moment. It was done for the day and it wasn’t going to take anymore. He turned and looked at Sasha. She was still covered in blood, her face pale, mouth open. She looked at him, looked him right in the eyes. Never had she looked like that. She was defeated, hurt, humiliated, and her life was turned upside down. She hated violence, and yet all she’d gotten today was that and a lot of it. There was a pleading look in her eyes, and it was this that brought clarity.

His problems could wait. He’d been in the dark his whole life, but Sasha and Keither needed to get out of this place. He and Kovos probably did too, but they would have an easier time keeping it together. After all, they had been the ones to end the situation and in a way this gave them at least some closure. He didn’t want to sleep here in the blood and gore of the day, and the pressure of the situation was going to get to him eventually. He needed to move and sleep. Then, maybe, he would be fine.

“Ok, let’s finish up here and get moving. Let’s take their horses. We can sell them or use them for pack. I don’t think it would be good to let them wander off.” He let the pressure shape his thoughts, let it make the important decisions.

This was something that came naturally to him. Pressure focused him, made things clear, and presented the best and sometimes only options. Maybe that’s why he was a good fighter. Most people lost their heads in a fight, like the soldiers today, but you couldn’t do that, not if you wanted to win.

“I agree. We will be able to sell them easily and we can keep a couple for pack so we can move faster,” Arkin said, walking over to a tent and knocking it down. He began kicking it about, breaking random things.

Kovos was still gaping at Arkin. Legon jerked his head at Keither and Sasha, which brought Kovos back. Soon the campsite was trashed and the men robbed, so he didn’t think anyone could tell it was staged, maybe because they had actually robbed the men, but he wasn’t thinking about that right now.

He began moving toward the horses. The ones the queen’s men rode looked fine, a few with specks of blood on them but they hadn’t minded the violence. Their horses weren’t used to it, so they were jittery. Phantom was doing better than Murray but not by much. Both animals backed away from them. Kovos’ horse Calvin was fine; in fact, Legon wasn’t sure it had even known what was going on. The clanging of metal probably didn’t bother blacksmith’s horses, but Keither’s, well, Margaret’s their mothers, horse Pixy was freaking out. Pixy was young and Margaret hadn’t worked with her too much yet. She was a good horse and he thought that she would be good for Keither. Sasha was the one in the end that got them calmed down. She loved horses. She had trained both Phantom and Murray, and both were great. Calvin wasn’t too bad but she would have to help Keither with Pixy. “This was probably a good thing,” Legon thought—she needed something to take her mind off of what was going on.

Kovos collected the soldier’s horses and was tying their “earnings” to them. For some reason this made Legon feel self-conscious, like he had done something wrong, but he hadn’t. The men needed to look like they were robbed, but still he couldn’t help but think of himself as a thief. He turned to look at the devastated camp. Everything was still fresh, the blood still glistened off the leaves, the ground was still muddy, but that was starting to dry a bit. The sun was all but gone now. They needed to go, needed to set up a new camp, eat, and get some answers.

As he rode he looked at the arrow he’d taken back from Sasha. It still amazed him. He had loved archery for so long, and what if it was part of his ancestry? He should be mulling over what had happened, but he couldn’t help but feel a little excited. His people made this, and maybe someday he could do the same. Or, maybe he would never do it, maybe the human side would take over and he would be a butcher. This bothered him. He never thought of being anything other than a butcher, and even if he went to the Elves he might just be a butcher there.

Sasha was riding next to him, looking off in the distance, her eyes unfocused. He wondered what was going on in her head. He hoped that she was all right. The men hadn’t actually raped her, but the commander came close enough, and that was reason enough for her to have issues. She’d be fine in a few days. Sasha was tougher than she looked; at least he hoped she was. Arkin pulled off into a clearing to the left of the road, going down next to the stream.

“We’ll camp here for the night. Keither, find some wood for a fire. Sasha, please make something simple for us to eat. It can be bread for all I care, but we need to eat. Kovos, tend to the horses and help Legon set up the tents. I’m going to walk the perimeter of camp to make sure we’re safe,” Arkin said and then walked off in the woods.

There was still no talking as they set camp. When they were done, Sasha went into one of the tents and changed her clothes, coming out with the bloody ones in her hands. She walked to the fire and tossed them in. No one stopped her. In fact, watching them burn seemed to make them feel better about their current situation. By the time they were burned and gone, Arkin was back and Sasha seemed to be feeling much better. They all changed and it did seem to make them feel cleaner in some way, almost like by taking off the old clothes and putting on the new ones they were cleansing themselves in the process.

They sat around the fire eating bread, waiting for Arkin to start. This was his show; he had the answers, and they were willing to wait for them. Arkin looked like he was thinking hard about what to say.

“Twenty years ago, a woman I knew and was close to married an Elf. It was rare for this to happen, but what was rarer was that she got pregnant. The couple knew it was a bad idea to raise the child where they lived.”

“Why?” asked Legon.

“In time you will find out, but not now.”

“It’s my past. Why not now?” he asked, his voice getting stern.

“Because I can’t tell you everything. I have taken many oaths, and no matter how much I may want to tell you everything, I can’t. Please trust me on this.” It was a question as well as a statement, and Legon knew that if he pushed his luck that Arkin wouldn’t tell him anything.

“They decided to move by Salmont, and that’s where they were going to raise you until they figured out if you were going to be Elf or human. After you were born, things were going fine. I was stationed in Salmont as protection.”

There was sadness in Arkin’s eyes and a helpless look. Never had Legon seen Arkin get emotional.

“It is my fault your mother was killed. If I had tried harder they would have never made it to her, they wouldn’t have…” he trailed off. At first when Arkin said that it was his fault that his mother was dead, Legon felt a twinge of anger, but that left as he watched him. Arkin had never half-hearted anything in Legon’s whole life, and he doubted that he had then either. In fact, he was sure that the man had been carrying this with him for years. Every time he saw Legon he had to be reminded.

“It’s fine Arkin. I’m sure you did your best.”

“My best was not good enough. They got to her before I could get there. I went out hunting, planning on leaving Brack and Edis to find her, but you know what happened after that…”

“Yeah, I do.” He was surprised at how he felt bad. After all, he never knew his birth parents and looked at Edis, Laura, as his parents and Sasha as his real sister. So why feel so bad about it? They knew the risks, didn’t they? Or was it because they put themselves in danger for his benefit, for his protection?

“Anyway, I got word that the Iumenta had found out what was going on when they killed your father. Apparently one of the men with him was a traitor. We never found out who. The whole party was killed, traitor and all. So after that my orders were to watch you and train you.”

“Train me, and what?”

“If you looked like you were going to turn Elf then I was to take you back to the Elves. If you went human then I was to let you lead a normal life, and if you began to turn Elf but leaned to the side of the Iumenta…”

“You were to kill me.” Legon finished.

Arkin flinched. “Yes. There has never been an Elven traitor, but there hasn’t been anyone in your position for hundreds of years.” This wasn’t a shock. It made logical sense to need to protect your country from attack, but still, to think of himself being viewed as a “possible threat” bothered him.

“Ok, ok that’s fine. Truth be told, if I turned out to be anything like one of the bastards we killed today I would hope you would kill me. So what now?”

Arkin looked almost proud of him and he seemed to have a more familiar look about him. “We go to Salez. Your lot needs to learn some new tricks.” As he spoke he took the two blades off his back still in the sheaths, handing them to Legon. “These were your father’s fenrra. They are yours. They have been in your house for over two thousand years.” Legon took hold of the fenrra, amazed by the lightness of them. The handles were one-handed and there was not much of a hilt. The sheath was a dark, deep purple, almost black. The grips were wrapped with something that felt like leather. The pommel was slanted with a tree inside a triangle surrounded by a circle. The whole thing looked like it was made of gold but was untarnished and unscratched, so it couldn’t have been. There was what looked like gold thread up the handles and the hilt was also gold with intricate leaves.

He stood and pulled on the handle of one of the fenrra. It came out without a sound, revealing a blade that looked like a mirror, the edge of which was visible and went up about a quarter of an inch along the forward edge and about a fourth of the way up along the back edge. He felt power gush through him. He held it up in the fire light, seeing himself more clearly than he ever had. The handle felt perfect in his hand, like it was made for him. He ran his finger along the edge. It was sharper than anything he’d ever seen. He handed the other one to Kovos, who pulled it out, marveling. Both men turned the fenrra over in their hands, feeling the balance and comfort. They just felt good, almost like an extension of his own body.

“They will almost never dull. Those have been sharpened only twice, once when they were made and then again about seven hundred years ago. They will also never break, or, if you do manage to break them, you will be one of only a few who’s managed it. That edge is sharper than anything you’ve seen and armor means little to them. Elves and Iumenta only wear light armor, more for humans and lesser objects. You see the thicker part of the blade?” Arkin said, pointing at the last half of the fenrra.

“Yes.”

“That part there is used to deflect arrows and anything else sent your way. You won’t be able to do it now, but if you turn into an Elf you’ll be fast enough.”

This should have floored him, but nothing was a surprise anymore.

Kovos handed him the other blade and he stood amazed. They felt so natural. He didn’t want to let them go. It made him feel like nothing could hurt him, like they somehow had abilities of their own.

“Now we need to sleep. Don’t worry about sleeping in tomorrow. We have all had a hard day. I know it’s early, but you need to rest,” Arkin said.

There was a part of Legon that wanted to stay up, the same part that made him fight with his parents when he was growing up and they wanted him to go to bed, but Arkin was right and they did have a long way to go. Sleeping now was good. He replaced the fenrra in their sheaths. “That sounds good. I am assuming you want Kovos and Keither to share a tent, and you and me to take one?”

Sasha spoke for the first time in a while. “Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight. Can I stay with you, Legon? I promise I won’t bother you.”

Of course she would want to stay with him. She was terrified. How could he make her be alone?

“Of course you can. I’m sorry, I should have said that. I’ll move your bedroll and bag to my tent.”

“Stay with Legon as long as you like, Sasha,” Arkin added.

* * * * *

Kovos couldn’t believe this. How did Arkin get those swords and how was he able to hide in town for so long? Did anyone know? Keither was looking better and he thought that the boy would be fine by the morning. In truth he was a little proud of how well Keither had done. He hadn’t complained and it looked like he was toughing it out. This was a good thing, and it would be helpful for their current situation. He suspected that there was going to be a lot of toughing it out to come, and if Keither could keep it together he may turn into a real person. “It is going to feel good to lie down and sleep,” Kovos thought as he parted the folds to the tent and entered. There was his bedroll waiting for him. He thought about stripping down to his undergarments, but decided against it. You never know when you might get attacked.

He couldn’t get the day off his mind, especially the fenrra. Now that was metalwork at its best. Sharpened twice in two thousand years, and they were so sharp. He didn’t even know metal could get that sharp. Maybe if he played his cards right he could learn how to do that.

He was also bothered by the fact that he wasn’t upset about killing people. He should be, he should feel bad… but nothing, nothing at all. He got mad when he thought about Keither and Sasha getting hurt, but doing the hurting… it didn’t bother him. In fact it felt… good. That bothered him. If killing felt good, then that meant that he was capable of doing awful things, things like what those men had done, and then what would Emma think of him? Emma. Why did he think of her now! It was dark in the tent and Keither had fallen asleep as soon as he was lying down, and Kovos would have too, but now he was thinking about her. “I wonder what she’s doing,” he thought. “No, don’t think about it.” But how could he not? What if it had been her on the ground having some sub-human on her?

He understood then why he didn’t feel bad for killing the men. He didn’t feel bad because it was justifiable to kill them in his mind. “But is it ok to kill people even if they deserve it?” came a voice in his head. Who was he to judge others, who was he to decide who lived and died? But at the same time, he knew these men killed and raped, and who knows what else, so maybe it was ok. Either way it didn’t matter. It was done and it wouldn’t do to dwell on it. They did what they had to do and that was that. At the same time he was surprised at how protective of Sasha he was. Sure, he’d beaten people up for giving her a hard time, but that was for his friend. Today he wasn’t killing entirely for protection. He wanted to punish them for what they were going to do to her and what they had done to probably many women. Sasha was a good person, and when he thought about it, how could demons posses her? Could a demon live in someone like that? Great, now he was never going to sleep. His mind was starting to run. Maybe he could get some air. That might help.

He got up and went outside. Arkin was at the fire poking it with a stick. He turned to look at him. “Is everything ok?” he said in a soft voice.

“Yeah I think so. I just can’t sleep, you?”

“I’m fine. I can stay up all night and be good to go tomorrow. You did well today. I mean that.”

“Thanks. You did well yourself. So what happens now? What do we become?”



Arkin gave a deep sigh. “That will be up to you, I think. Let’s not talk about that now. Let’s talk about something that will put you to sleep,” he said with a smile.

Kovos laughed. “Ok, why don’t you tell me about some table or something you’re making.”

“Low blow from someone that hits things with a hammer for a living,” Arkin retorted. He always enjoyed picking on the carpenter for his craft. He knew Arkin was good at what he did, but Arkin worked with wood and Kovos with metal, so there was a bit of a rivalry. They both liked to talk about what it was like making something with your hands, something that people could use for generations, like those swords. They talked for about an hour before Kovos got tired and went to bed.

* * * * *

Sasha woke up next to Legon, her head resting on his bedroll. She was amazed at how well she slept. She thought that she wouldn’t sleep deeply because she was scared, but Legon was with her and he wouldn’t let anything happen. The air felt warm, so it must have been mid morning. She crawled out of the tent to have her suspicions confirmed. The sun was high in the sky, the morning dew long since gone.

Arkin was up, or at least she thought that he was. He was sitting on his heels with his back to her. It looked like his hands were on his thighs. She didn’t want to disturb him from whatever he was doing and began to go back in the tent.

“Good morning, Sasha,” he said in a deep, relaxed voice.

“Oh, good morning Arkin. Did you sleep well?” She wanted to know what he was doing, but she had to be polite. She did owe him her life, or at least that’s how she saw it. He chuckled.

“I am meditating.”

“Oh, ok. I didn’t want to be rude or disturb you.”

“You’re not. Did you sleep well? I know Kovos and Keither did. I think the whole forest knows that,” he said, turning his head and giving her a slight smile.

She laughed. “Yes, I think they did.”

A snort from inside the tent told her that Legon was getting up as well. He popped his head out. “Morning,” he said and then looked at the sky. “Oh, sorry. I don’t think I’ve slept this late in years.”

Arkin got up and moved to his tent, returning with a sheathed blade.

“Sasha, this is for you. It’s also Elven. It belonged to Legon’s mother. It’s the faloon. Elven women carry them.”



She took it. “A what?”

“Faloon. A thin, short sword that can be worn under most skirts. The handle can be easily hidden with a bow or anything else around your waist.”

“Oh, ok. Legon, do you…”

“Good idea, Arkin. I should have taught her how to defend herself a long time ago. It was dumb of me. I just always assumed that I could defend her… sorry, Sash.”

She was a little taken aback. He was feeling guilty about what had happened yesterday, as if it was somehow his fault those bastards had tried to hurt her. She knew that he would have done anything to stop it. She saw the marks on his wrists where the rope cut into him. She could almost feel them. There was nothing that he could have done to stop it.

“It’s not your fault, Legon. There is nothing you could have done. Even if I knew how to fight, do you really think that I could have stood a chance against them?”

“That’s not the point. The point is that you have always been in a danger and I haven’t taken the time to give you the basic skills you may need to just get out of a situation. I don’t expect you to be able to fight someone, but I could have taught you how to hurt them enough so you could get away.”

Arkin broke in. “The truth is, it’s my fault as well. I trained your brother and yet I did nothing for you. Forgive me, Sasha, but going forward you will learn. In fact, I have training for both of you while we’re on our journey. We are going into situations that neither of you have faced and you need to learn what to do, and Legon, you need to learn how to use the fenrra and a few other techniques.”

“Like what?” Sasha asked.

“I will start to teach you the art of the Jezeer.”

“The what?” started Legon.

“Jezeer. In short, you will learn how to fully use your muscles, how to read people, inflect your voice and body language to gain favor with people and get them to do what you want. Sasha, you know a lot of the people skills because I have taught you them from the time you were little. Legon, you I have taught many of the physical, but you both need to learn more than either of you currently knows.”

She’d been being what? She knew that Arkin was training them, but to have him say it was a little unsettling, and in a way violating. Her thoughts were interrupted by Arkin.

“And you will learn the Mahann, which will train your mind to use logic, not emotion. Both of these we can learn in the saddle, but at night in camp we’ll go over physical training. Legon, I will work with you and in turn we will switch training Keither and Sasha. Ok?” This wasn’t much of a question but Sasha didn’t fight it. She was willing to go along if for no other reason than curiosity.

Shortly after that, Kovos and Keither woke up and they broke down camp and started off. They were hoping to make it to within a half day’s ride from the end of the road, where it split three ways. From there they would go southwest along the mountains toward Salez. This wasn’t the most direct route, but it had the least amount of towns and villages, so it was ideal for them. As the day pressed on, Arkin was teaching them different exercises to train their minds and quizzing them on hypothetical situations. It made Sasha’s head hurt, but at the same time it was nice. Kovos and Keither listened in and occasionally Keither would make a remark or answer a question. He always got the questions right, and Sasha began to wonder just how smart he was. Also, he’d been so nice to her. She knew that it must have taken a lot for him to say what he had, and she was thankful for that. He was a good guy if you could get him to talk.

* * * * *

They were riding next to the river, which made the air cool. Legon always loved the sound of a stream or river. They seemed to give him energy and yet make him relax at the same time. All the same, he would have liked it more if Arkin wasn’t drilling them. He and Sasha always seemed to just get halfway there but rarely all the way. It was like they had been given information but only part of it. This didn’t seem to bother Arkin one bit. He was rushing along, hitting them with question after question. Then he would correct something that seemed to be insignificant and move on.

He was looking forward to training tonight. He knew how to use a sword and he could use two, but the fenrra were a little shorter than regular swords, so he would have to get used to that. He was glad that Sasha was going to be learning how to fight. That way if anything ever happened to him she might be all right. The faloon looked like it could be handy too. It had a little cord that went around her waist and as it hung it moved with her legs and skirt so no one could see it. There was just the end of the handle that came up, and that could be hidden with cloth.

He could see the she was a little uncomfortable with it. Sasha had never been in a fight and never carried a weapon, much less one that had belonged to her adopted brother’s dead mother. He, on the other hand, liked that she had the blade. It seemed to fit. As the sun fell they set up camp next to a large rock that rose thirty or forty feet above them. They were able to set up camp beneath an overhang. They placed the tents close to the rock, giving them more cover from the elements and making the smoke from the fire track its way up the rock and fan out under the overhang. As soon as dinner was done, Arkin walked into camp with a bag that looked like it contained a spare tent. He started to pull out wooden staves which were finished and polished, the same kind that Legon and Kovos had learned to fight with.

He tossed two to Legon, who noticed that they were shorter than most swords but the same length as the fenrra, and handed one to Sasha and Kovos. Sasha looked a little confused, but the two men got up, understanding it was training time.

Arkin looked down at Keither. “I imagine that your ribs are bruised at the very least, so we won’t start training you for a little while. As for the rest of you,” he addressed the others, “Sasha, you will be working with Kovos, who is going to start teaching you how to fight with a sword. He’s a very good fighter and you will learn a lot from him. Legon, you’re with me. I need to start getting you used to fighting with the fenrra. We will use the wooded staves for a few nights until you get used to the length and fighting style. After that we will put guards on the real blades. Ok?” Everyone agreed, but Sasha was looking a little nervous.

* * * * *

Sasha walked to one end of camp with Kovos. She was feeling a little trepidation. Kovos was nice enough, but she’d never been in a fight before and she was hoping she would never need to. This must have shown on her face because Kovos smiled warmly.

“Don’t worry. We’re just going to go over the basics tonight. I think that Arkin just wants you to have a general understanding, and then he will have to teach you to use that fa… feloon?”

“Faloon,” she corrected.

“Yeah, that thing. It looks like a good weapon and a great idea, but basic broadsword technique will be good for you to know. Don’t worry, you’re not going to be good at it for a long time, so if you’re not a master by the end of the week, don’t lose sleep over it.”

“Ok, I won’t worry too much then.”

Kovos nodded and placed the stave on the ground and drew his real sword, holding it in the palm of his hand and presenting her with the handle. She wasn’t expecting the weight. Somehow, when he’d been using it with so much speed and accuracy, she thought it must have been very light, but it wasn’t.

“Ok, you need to learn what everything is so that way when we’re working you’ll know what the hell I’m talking about, ok?”

“Isn’t this the blade, the handle and the pommel?” she said, pointing at different parts of the sword.

“No, that’s not what it all is. You got parts right, but that’s not just a blade,” he said, a little exasperated.

“It’s a long piece of metal that cuts things. How is that not just a blade? Don’t get me wrong, it’s very pretty . . .” she said, a little confused. Kovos looked scandalized.

“Just a blade?” He stood looking at her, mouth gaping. How was she supposed to know what everything was called? It cuts stuff, right? That was a blade to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t know there was more to it than that.”

“And pretty?” he said.

Legon broke in, “But Kovos, it is pretty. I like the flames a lot.”

Arkin joined in. “You put flames on your sword?” He was starting to smile. Sasha knew the carpenter-spy or whatever was about to lose his composure. “Like the ones you put on the staves as a kid?” Arkin started to laugh hard at that.

“Oh yeah, laugh it up, real funny. I’m a trendsetter, just you wait. In a few years everyone will have swords with flames on them, and I will be rich and famous.” Arkin was on the ground, having a hard time breathing, and it was this more than anything else that made her start to laugh. It felt good. She put her hands on her knees and could feel her eyes water. She could see Legon pointing and laughing at Kovos, who was now starting to join in. The scene must have been too much for Keither, who gave a small chuckle and then put his hand on his side with a grunt. This elicited more laughter from all of them.

“Stop making me laugh! Ouch! It hurts! It’s not funny you guys,” Keither said.

It wasn’t that funny but the stress of the last few days was finally breaking, and Sasha could feel her anxiety leave as the fit stopped. Kovos was shaking his head, telling everyone just how much he hated them all, and that they would regret making fun of the flames and went back to teaching her.

“Oh my. Ok Sash, here’s what everything is named. Just try and remember, ok? On the blade there are a few parts. This first is the tip here, it’s called the Foible. Next is the mid-blade, then the forte is the part closest to the handle. Got that?”

“Foible, mid-blade, and forte. Got it.”

He pointed to the edges. “This edge, the one your knuckles are on, is the leading edge of the blade, and the other side is the false edge. The parts on either side are the flats.”

“Ok.”

“Now this cross part here is the cross guard, then the grip and the pommel. This whole part is the handle of the blade. Got it?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Ok, good. Now we will go over how to hold the sword.”

“Ok.” For the next hour she learned how to hold the sword and the basic names of moves.



After that, Arkin brought a stop to it. She was getting into it. For some reason this stuff was interesting to her, and now she was beginning to understand a lot of the conversations she had with Legon growing up. He was always talking about “parry” this and “thrust” that, but she never really had known what he was talking about. She just smiled and nodded to be nice. She didn’t even remember hearing Arkin and Legon, who both were covered in sweat.

* * * * *

Arkin stood across from Legon. He was going to start learning better deflections so he could use his opponent’s momentum against him. The staves were perfect for this kind of training. They couldn’t take full blows without cracking, so this would force him to deflect with one sword and then strike with the other. Arkin came at him again and again, doing the same move until Legon would deflect it correctly and then he would move on to a new one. He’d been used to two-handed fighting before, but was never totally comfortable with it. You didn’t have as much power with just one hand, so someone could get an advantage with just pure strength, but he also knew that people who did know how to fight well with two swords usually won, so he would put in the time.

Arkin held one stave, and it was the same size of a standard hand and a half broad sword. He swung at his side, splitting the air with the sound of smacking wood, sending a vibration up the stave to his hand. Legon turned, catching the stave with one of his own and turning his back to it, using his body to help it make its way up and over him. This exposed Arkin’s side. As he did this he stabbed with the other hand, catching Arkin in the side. It felt awkward but was still effective.

“Good job, Legon. Now again, but less sloppy. Make it a more fluid movement.”

“Ok. Hey watch me do it on my own and tell me where I’m sticking.”

They continued until he was getting very good with the two-handed technique. He was good with one-sword combat, and in truth you didn’t use both hands a lot of the time, as you were constantly switching hands to help with endurance and to get your opponent off guard. All you needed to do was add in a sword on the other hand and for the most part you didn’t need to learn that many new moves, so it didn’t take him long to get the hang of it.

After they were done, Arkin took Sasha and him aside and began to teach them the Jezeer, which was basically learning how to master each muscle in your body. The hard part was isolating just one muscle. It seemed that you couldn’t move just one without all the others joining in. This training would be hard. The way they learned was with different poses, contorting their bodies to stretch and isolate different groups of muscles. By the end Legon knew that he wouldn’t be sore from fighting, but from the Jezeer. He also realized that he wasn’t as flexible as maybe he once was. Sasha was better at this part of this than him, but he still heard the occasional groan from her straining herself.

“That’s good. Tomorrow we will do more, and you will start to work with Sasha on basic hand-to-hand combat. Nothing major, just enough to get her out of trouble—wristlocks and things like that.”

The next day they made their final descent out of the mountains and to the split in the road. They went south, heading for the town of Salkay where they could sell the horses they didn’t need and buy supplies. The land they were in was all rolling hills with large fields and patches of trees. Closer to the mountains the forest got thick, but otherwise they were in open spaces. Within a two day’s ride they would reach the Kayloose River and the town of Salkay. Spring had taken a much firmer hold on the lowlands than it had in Salmont. The road was clear, but right off to the side the grass in the field grew up to the horses’ bellies, and there was the soft sound of birds singing and the occasional bug going by their heads. The scent of wildflowers dominated everything. They tried to figure what each cloud looked like and were having a good time. Everyone was in high spirits by lunch. They sat in the shade of a tree to eat and let the horses graze on their own. Keither seemed to be out of his element. He was terrified of bees and other insects. It was obvious that he didn’t spend much time outside.

* * * * *

Keither knew the others were crazy. How could they possibly be enjoying themselves? “There are bugs everywhere, and the bees…” he thought to himself. There was a reason he stayed in the house all day, and this was it. What if one stung him? Could he die from it? He didn’t know, but he heard one time that someone had died from a bee sting. They stopped breathing and everything. Did these morons not know that? He kept his head down all day and he didn’t answer too many of the questions that Arkin would ask Legon and Sasha, not that it mattered anyway. He spent most of his time telling them to clear their heads and stuff like that. When there was a question he almost always got it right, even if he didn’t answer. They were easy really, all hypothetical questions, not unlike the stuff he thought about on his own all the time. He was amazed they didn’t know how to solve them. Didn’t everyone think about this stuff? Not everything was bad though. Sasha was an amazing cook. Even when she didn’t do anything to the food it was better than home.

He reared back and swatted at a black flying thing. “Whoa that was close,” he thought. His ribs hurt and he wondered how long it would take them to feel better. His face hurt too, but that was already starting to do better. He was still going to look horrible in Salkay, but not that it mattered. He looked bad anyway. He was fat and pale. People were always asking him if he was sick. When he said no they asked if he was hurt, and if that’s why he was so large. “Jerks,” he thought. “Just because I don’t spend my day pounding on metal or wood…” He liked to think of himself as the first scholar in Salmont, but now that Arkin was revealing this other side, he thought he might be number two. What was up with Arkin anyway? He sure played his part well, but it didn’t make sense to not take Legon back to the Elves where he belonged. No, there was more to this story, and the others should be asking questions but they weren’t. They trusted the man to the hilt.

They were riding again. Well the rest of them were, but Pixie was still eating. “Come on, let’s go!” He clucked his tongue. This worked for Sasha, why not for him? He tried to kick Pixie’s side. She snorted.

Sasha was calling back to him. “Come on, Keither. You’re in charge, not her. Kick her sides and she’ll go.”

No, she wouldn’t go. They had been going through this exercise all day—he kicked, Pixie ate. And that name! What were people going to think of him when they found out his horse’s name was Pixie? Sasha was heading over now. She looked calm and he knew she was patient, but he still knew this must be driving her nuts.

She got off Murray. “Here Keither, ride Murray the rest of the day. Pixie just needs to be trained, that’s all.”

He got off and remounted Murray, who seemed to be much larger. Once again, the horse didn’t seem to want to respond to him. Sasha got on Pixie and to his amazement, she turned Pixie and started toward the others, clucking just like he had done but this time the horse responded. He grabbed on hard to the saddle as Murray started after Sasha. Clearly, Pixie was not the one in need of training.