Chapter 5

A Chapter by Addi

It was a beautiful morning: bright, sunny, full of colour and life. The sound of birds singing and cattle bellowing woke Sebastian from a well-deserved sleep. He looked out the window above his bed and decided that it could only have been an hour or so since dawn broke. He sat there drinking in the scenery for a few minutes, when a hand on his arm interrupted his reverie. Kerry smiled that beautifully crooked smile, and Sebastian noticed something rare in her expression- acceptance.

“You know, I got a letter from home, over a week ago,” she said, keeping her voice low so as not to wake their sleeping companions. Her gaze was focused out the window.

“That’s good!” Sebastian exclaimed. Kerry nodded, smiling again, but this time it didn’t seem genuine.

“Uh-huh…” she said, “see, my sister’s not well…”

“Lea’s sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Is it serious? She’ll be fine, right?”

“They don’t know. Mergol came to see her and he doesn’t know what she’s got. It’s a fever and a cough, and Mum said sometimes she’s not even lucid. It could be nothing,” she explained, “or it could be everything. We just don’t know, and that’s the worst part.” Sebastian dropped an arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Kerry,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I guess I didn’t want to distract you… And I was in a happy place before I got that letter, and everyone else seemed to be, too. I didn’t want to ruin that, you know? And now, I really want to win the Battle of Larion. I really do. I need to prove that it wasn’t all for nothing, that I didn’t desert my sister in her time of need for nothing. I need to prove to myself that I chose the right path.” Kerry paused, and fixed a grin on her face as she turned away from the window. “So, I hear you have a secret loooove.”

“Oh come on, Goulamon’s a stupid fraud!” Sebastian cried, returning her grin.

“But he got the stuff about your parents, didn’t he? And your arrogance. Reading people… it’s really powerful you know. And I can do it! Would you believe? As soon as I tried, I could just… see it all, in front of my eyes. Did you know that Octavia has a husband and kids? I just looked at her, and I could tell they were the most important things to her. Unbelievable, huh? And she’s kind of unbelievable too, leaving behind her family for a competition. That’s got to take some strength. What if she wins? She’ll probably have duties all over the Kingdom, and what’s going to happen to her children?”

“I don’t know,” answered Sebastian. “But Octavia knows what she’s doing.”

“So did I, until I came here,” Kerry said, her eyes focused again on the scene behind the window. “The others will be waking up soon,” she announced abruptly, and went back over to her own bed.

“Shielding,” began Instructor Goulamon, “is hard to do. But it’s a very useful skill to have under your belt, so I recommend, Mr Worth, that you pay attention to what I am saying.” Sebastian glanced up. “It may feel like you are back at school, listening to some old hag throw facts at you about hunting and farming, crocheting, etiquette, whatever the hell you idiots are learning nowadays. But this is important, ladies and gentlemen. This is important.” Goulamon surveyed the room, making eye contact with each of his thirteen ‘students’ in turn, before continuing. “So, shielding your mind from the scrutiny we practiced yesterday. As you can imagine, it is a useful defence tool…” He talked for what seemed like hours, but this time, what he was saying actually made sense.

“Today we will mix up our pairing, so that each person is placed against someone of a similar skill level in this area, so as to make the most of this practice time.” The instructor put Sebastian with Lillian. And Kerry was right, she never spoke.

“Well, I can still sort of tell that you’re thinking about… goats,” said Sebastian uncertainly. Lillian just shook her head, smiling, as her eyes bore into his. Sebastian could tell, somehow, that his shield wasn’t working, which was hardly surprising. But it freaked him out to know that people could, just by looking at him, know nearly everything about him: his thoughts, feelings, secrets, past, anything. To put up his mind wall, his shield, he was supposed to clear his head of all thoughts and channel all his core power at his opponent. It was a battle of the mind. Lillian was also concentrating all her strength toward him and he felt an uncomfortable feeling at the back of his head, as if something was pushing its way into his skull. Every second, he was tempted to give way to the penetrating force, but he fought to stay in control of his mind, to block out the invader. It was a lost battle even before it begun. Within a minute, Lillian had forced her way into his mind again, and was reading him like a book.

&&&

Mergol placed a firm hand on her clammy forehead, and gently brushed her hair out of her eyes.

“She’s burning up,” he said softly, turning to face the little girl’s parents, who stood at her bedside peering anxiously. At his words, the man sighed and the woman’s eyes filled with tears.

“What does that bloody well mean?” she demanded. For the first time in his life, Mergol was at a loss for words.

“I…Well, it’s hard to… You see, it… I don’t know,” he finished lamely. “This just doesn’t make any sense, this whole thing.”

“What is the worst case scenario?” said the father.

“Your daughter dies,” replied the healer sadly. It wasn’t like him to confuse his personal feelings with his job, but he had never seen anything like it: a perfectly healthy five-year-old girl, seemingly overnight attacked by a mystery illness that could be potentially life-threatening. It was depressing. Lea Rollens’ mother was sobbing heartily now, and her husband stood staring at the little girl curled up in bed, his eyes hazy and unfocused. Lea herself was shining with sweat, her eyes screwed up as if she couldn’t bear to see anything, her face pale and gaunt.

“We have no reason to believe that that will happen, at this point,” continued Mergol, attempting a reassuring tone. “I can give Lea a herbal treatment for the fever and other common symptoms, but it’s a weak medication so I can’t guarantee it will work. I’m not prepared to give her anything stronger without knowing what the disease is, because it could end up doing more damage than it does healing. I’m sorry, I know this must be hard for you. But I am doing everything I can. I’ll be back tomorrow with the herbs.”

Mergol had good instincts, and at that moment, they were telling him that the little girl’s sickness was not natural. There was some kind of dark power at play there… He had no idea who, what, where, or why, but he knew there was something ominous in the air. When he stepped over the threshold of the Worth family home, Bobette the cat was waiting to ambush him. She let go a vicious snarl and clawed at the leg of his pants, which was pretty much all she could manage, being a cat of older years. As she soon realised her efforts were having no effect, the grey cat stalked away, tail in the air, after one last contemptuous look in the man’s direction. Mrs Worth was sitting at the fireplace, again, and Mergol gave vent to an inner sigh of relief to see that she had not burnt, flooded or hammered the place to death in the hour he had been gone. On more than one occasion, he had come back from visiting an ill patient and Sebastian’s mother had been cutting up curtains, or painting the piano, so it was always nice to find the place in the same state he had left it in. She looked up as he entered, and gestured for him to join her by the fire.

“Thomas,” she said slowly, as if relishing the feeling of the name on her tongue. “So glad you could come.”

&&&

King Siotan kept his eyes fixed on his son, as if the boy might disappear if he looked away. Prince Gregory, however, seemed determined to avoid his father’s gaze.

“So,” began Siotan, “the challenges are getting closer by the minute. Are you ready?”

“No!” snapped Gregory. “No! You threw me into this stupid battle, and I don’t want to be here, so no, I am not ready! I could die, do you understand that?”

“If you ever hope to be king one day, then you need to be prepared to do what’s right for your people. That often means taking risks. I should know, I’ve taken my fair share over the years.”

“But don’t you see?” said Gregory, his eyebrows drawn together. “I don’t want to be king. This life was forced upon me!”

“Son, listen to me,” said the King. He looked more tired and middle-aged than ever, his face creased by new wrinkles and a bald patch gleaming on the top of his head. “I didn’t call you to my chambers to exchange polite chit-chat, or not so polite yelling matches either, for that matter. I have something for you.” Siotan fumbled around in the many pockets of his robes for a moment, before tugging out a gleaming stone the size of his palm. It was a misty-grey colour, but in the candlelight it glowed almost gold. His Majesty beckoned Gregory closer and dropped the stone into his outstretched hand.

“What is this, Father?” the Prince asked, genuinely intrigued by the glowing object.

“It is a… a means of contact, I suppose. If you are ever in trouble and you need help, whether during a challenge or not, you must grab the stone and hold it, and I will know. And I will then be able to help you.”

“But, you can’t do that, can you? I mean, it would be against the rules of the Battle of Larion. It would be an unfair advantage.”

“Yes. And that is why I decided to give it you, because you are my son and I couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to you. Your mother would never forgive me, either.” Siotan glanced over his shoulder at the portrait of his wife, who had passed on some years before. “You won’t die, Gregory, I promise.”

Sebastian watched Gregory walk in and flop onto his bed. For some reason, the Prince looked happier than when he had left, though there was still that painful, haunted look in his eyes.

“I wonder what the King wanted to see him for,” Ed wondered out loud. Sebastian shrugged.

“He’s his son,” he said unconcernedly. “Probably wanted a midnight chat about the best type of ale.”

“I suppose,” agreed Ed, turning away. Finally, Sebastian was left in peace. He did not have the space in his mind to be worrying about Gregory or Celeste or even Kerry’s sister. Tomorrow would begin Week 11 of the training. There was one week to go before challenges began, and Sebastian had only enough strength to focus on that. The last seven weeks had flown by, and had seemed pretty boring and pointless (apart from the times they attempted to control fire, wind and water; learnt how to aim a throwing knife; and met some intimidating opponents in battle- some covered in spikes, fire-breathing, death-staring or bone-crushing). But now, the thirteen men and women were faced with a much greater danger, and Sebastian felt decidedly uncomfortable about it.

Their final week was one of rigorous training, the instructors seemingly determined to cram as much into seven days as possible. During the day, they got only one short break for lunch, and the rest of the time was spent going over everything they had already learnt in the previous training sessions and putting this knowledge into practice.

“Well, at least they’re not trying to bombard us with a whole lot of new information,” remarked Octavia, always the optimist. “But God, this does feel like I’m back in a classroom with Mrs Wartop, learning how to sew…”

“Personally, I think it’s disgusting the way they teach girls all of the housekeeping skills, and just teach boys how to cause trouble,” said Kerry, her carefully aimed spear burying itself in a wooden casket. “School’s useless.”

“And you’ve been out, what, a few weeks?” chuckled Abraham. “You have a lot to learn about life, and the world, Kerry.”

“I doubt she even went to school!” piped up Celeste from across the room, having overheard their conversation. “Only the rich should bother with it: the rest just become farmers or beggars anyway. I went, of course,” she added condescendingly.

“She’s a rude little toad,” Octavia said under her breath. “Don’t let her get to you, Kerry.” But the woman’s grin faded slightly as she caught sight of Celeste and Abigail’s heads together, clearly deliberating societal and financial status. Octavia herself had never been wealthy; she came from a poor family and she and her husband constantly struggled to find the money to support their children. Unexpectedly, Marcus saw fit to offer his opinion, which was a rare occurrence.

“I never went to school,” he admitted unashamedly, in a carrying voice. “School’s for poncy losers and it doesn’t teach you what matters. Either way, this is a stupid conversation. I think everyone’s energy would be put to better use with worrying about the Battle of Larion. So, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to improve my duelling here and I would appreciate it if everyone just shut up.”

“Well said,” agreed Abraham, flinching slightly at the cold glare he received from Marcus.

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