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    Kyle Aarons
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Mature story contains dark themes involving graphic violence and taboo topics that may contain triggers for sensitive readers. Please do not read further if this bothers you.

The Kandric Saga - 20. Chapter 20

Kandric glanced back at the group from the Slome School with a bit of a smirk. Their inexperience showed from the moment they headed out for the overnighter at Bloody Rock. All the students had way over packed for such a trip and were now paying the price. Many of the kids labored under packs easily five times as heavy as the one Kandric carried and several of the students had gone on overkill mode with weapons as well as armor. Part of him wanted to push forward to teach them all a lesson, but his instincts told him a rest may be the very thing to prevent an exhausted student from being careless, twisting an ankle or worse.

Kandric signaled back for everyone to take a ten-minute break. Once he was sure all the students along with Rylop and Londow from the town guard were all there he scouted ahead pointing to Zeltoss to join him. As soon as he moved out Rylop and Londow moved into a lead position to watch over the students while the teacher from the school stayed back guarding the rear.

Zeltoss caught up to Kandric and headed down the ridgeline staying in Kandric’s footsteps, "I’m sure glad you told me what to take. I’m not sure I would have made it this far carrying half of what some of those guys decided to stuff into their packs.

Kandric snickered as he took and knee and used the vantage point to scan the surrounding area. “Half of them were huffing and puffing before we got out of the gates of Slome.”

“I noticed.” Zeltoss grinned. “But why didn’t you warn the rest of them like you did me?”

Kandric glanced over at his friend, “First off, you asked for help, none of the rest did. Second, and far more importantly, is the fact you need to learn how to travel light. We will be going through much worse territory, much faster then we are now, and with your build you will need to watch what you carry. You have speed and grace, not raw power. Then again, you are not a Swordsman; those students back there are, so strength is something you don’t need as much as they do.”

“How much will I have to carry where we are going?”

“Just a bit more than you are now. Captain Vondum and I are both Outdoorsman, and we will be in a swamp so food will not be a problem, although you will have to get used to eating a few things that might not seem so appetizing.”

Zeltoss frowned “Like what?”

“Fish, maybe even need to eat it raw if we are in a hurry, snakes, grubs, and other meats that may not be on a normal wish list.” Kandric rolled his eyes as he saw the look in Zeltoss’ eyes, “It is not too late to say no.”

“There is no chance I am changing my mind, Kandric. None. But I have to say I will see you eat that stuff first before I eat some!”

Kandric patted his friend on the back with a smile, “Deal.”

Zeltoss took a deep breath, “This whole trip keeps sounding more and more interesting.”

“Keep your attitude the same and it will be, start letting what is going on get under your skin and interesting will suddenly become aggravating, and then your whole outlook and your desire to push forward will disappear.”

“You may need to remind me if I do start getting down.”

Kandric nodded, “No problem there. My Teacher used to press home the same point when I started letting things get under my skin. He taught me the real trick is to look at any task, desirable or not, as a challenge and a chance to learn and experience new things. Take chopping wood, for instance. I hated it with a passion, so my Teacher made me do it all the time. Then one day he came up and started challenging me. He pitted the wood against me. Each swing of the axe was a test against my prior swing. Did it cut deeper, did I learn the grain of the wood and how it splits better with each prior swing, or was it just the wood beating me up?”

Zeltoss nodded slowly, “So with each swing he was teaching you how to better judge the wood, how to use what you found out on your prior swing to make your next one better?”

“Exactly.” Kandric made a motion of swinging the axe, “But it went beyond those lessons. Through his guidance, chopping wood also taught me how to judge the strength of different types of wood and even the quality of the wood I was cutting. It became a game for me, where I was in a battle with the wood and it was trying to wear me down as I tried to chop it. In some weird way, a way I still have not yet grasped, he taught me to like to chop wood. Now it actually is a way I unwind and work out aggression and anger.”

“Gee, I never heard of making a game out of hard work before.”

“My Teacher was a master at making work play and making playtime into something that was more than just fun. Everything he allowed me to do helped me learn something, build up strength, endurance, coordination, memory, or something else of equal value. His idea of play time was just allowing me to do something I liked in a way suited to his teaching me.” Kandric looked Skyward and sighed, “And I miss him.”

Zeltoss gave Kandric a squeeze on the shoulder, “I sure hope I get to meet him one day.”

“Me to.” Kandric then whispered so softly his friend couldn’t even hear him, “Because if you do I will get to see him again as well.” Kandric broke out of his wishful thinking to see Glaster as he scanned the rocky slope again. Seeing nothing of danger he stood up, “We better get a move on. We still have a third of a day hike to make Bloody Rock and it is almost high sun. At this rate we will not make it there until nightfall.”

Zeltoss followed Kandric back toward the resting students; “You could have them lighten their packs.”

“I could,” Kandric agreed, “But to do so would be to teach them they could abandon what they did not want to carry at any time. Life is not so kind. They made choices and they must now learn to deal with them.”

Zeltoss frowned, “What other choice was there? They didn’t know…”

“They could have done exactly what you did.” Kandric countered before yelling for the assembled students to grab their gear and get ready to head out.

Zeltoss nodded in silent agreement. Thinking only to himself he commented, “They could have asked for some guidance.” As he did so Zeltoss realized Kandric was also sending him a message about what to expect during the upcoming trip. He would be responsible for his actions and would face consequences far beyond a tongue lashing from a teacher or a bruise in the combat pit for mistakes. Life on the move with Kandric was not going to be easy, but it would be interesting.

 

Since being named as lead slave for Kandric Jamon’s life had improved some. He had freedom to roam the whole Swamp Slums area; he got better food, and was much better dressed than the others Kandric and Vondum had acquired over the past couple of weeks. The problems and demands of being lead slave, however, were something he had not been ready for. He was a boy, not a brutal slave master. The problem was, each day he was forced to become more of a slave driver and it was taking a large toll.

Jamon had gone from simply having to do what he was told to having to tell others what to do and then make sure it was getting done. This seemed easy enough, except he tried to do too much work and to little ordering. Then, when he started figuring out how to keep the others busy he realized this also kept him very busy. However, when something was done incorrectly or not at all Jamon was the one who Vondum came looking for. There were no excuses when dealing with the man. Every time something went even slightly wrong the blame was first put on him and he was punished. Then and only then did Vondum demand to know who had not done what.

At first Jamon tried to take all the blame, but Vondum didn’t buy it. This only got him another crack of a stick across his legs or back then another demand for Jamon to tell the horrible man who had not done his or her job. Minutes latter the sounds of crying echoed in the swamp as the kid Jamon pointed to was punished, usually brutally.

On the other hand, Sy had been extremely helpful as both a person to turn to when one of the slaves disobeyed or he needed some guidance. The man was somewhere between Kandric, who was basically very nice, and Vondum. He took time to show Jamon how to order the other slaves around and made it clear to all of the other kids that Jamon was in charge of them and that his commands were law unless their owners directly countermanded them. Sy was also very strict and expected to see Jamon take each lesson and learn from it. More than once Jamon found his arm painfully twisted behind him and his face shoved into a bucket of water by Sy to the point where he almost passed out.

But Sy only resorted to this when Jamon balked at doing what he was told or his mind wandered and he lost track of whatever Sy was trying to teach him. The pain also went away quickly compared to the welts left behind from Vondum’s punishments. Jamon also knew it helped his own position when the slaves under him saw him get punished for his own mistakes. There was no question in anyone’s mind Jamon was still one of the slaves.

This worked well for a while, but like everything else over the past few weeks, life was not kind or simple. Jamon knew the day would come when Sy would move from punishing the other slaves for transgressions to having Jamon take over this task as well. The problem was Jamon had not expected it this soon nor could the slave who needed punishment have been worse.

The day had started off well. Vondum showed up and told Sy to begin work on a central stockade on the far end of the Swamp Slums. He ordered Jamon to get all the slaves out and to grab the shovels and other equipment he had brought with him. Vondum spent a few minutes with Sy, telling the man the basics of what would be required. The evil man then left to take care of other business.

Sy wasted no time giving Jamon orders. The first task would be to level and clear a huge space of land. Over two dozen trees would have to be chopped down then their roots dug up. All the rocks and smaller brush would also have to be taken out. Sy pointed out that he would pay some swamp dwellers to chop down the trees and dig out the roots because such a task was simply too hard for children, but he did want all the scrub brush and rocks moved out of the area. He also wanted a path wide enough for 2 wagons to move past each other side by side. For this he didn’t want to spend more coin taking out trees, instead it would be up to Jamon to wind a clear path from where he wanted the stockade to the road leading past the Swamp Slums.

Jamon set about doing what Sy wanted. He put all the slaves to work getting rid of the rocks and undergrowth within the area Sy showed him then began to look for the best way to put in a road. After nearly an hour he thought he had found a good way but it would require the removal of one tree. He marked the path with stones went up to Sy and explained what he thought.

Sy walked the path with him and agreed it would be a good path on solid ground but did stop Jamon by placing a hand on his shoulder. “Yer plan be a good one, but we ain’t payin’ to remove the tree. Yer gunna have ta get rid it, chop out them roots and fill in the hole with rock and dirt. It ain’t nearly as big as many round here, so grab a few slaves and gets ta work. You’ll have ta fill in the hole a few times before it stops settlin’, but any road’s gunna need work now and again.”

Jamon took the news in stride. It seemed rather silly to have to remove one tree when half the men in the Swamp Slums were working for Sy doing the exact same thing, but orders were orders. He went back to where the slaves were working hard cutting out bushes and rolling a few big rocks.

He looked over the group for a moment and decided the biggest kids would be needed for the removal of the tree. He called over Conth and one other boy and led them to the tree. He explained what needed to be done then started to move away to better mark the road so the other kids could take out the brush.

Jamon didn’t get very far before Conth threw down the axe and yelled, “I’m sick of you getting out of all the hard work!”

Jamon turned slowly. One of the first things Sy had taught him about being the lead slave was he could not back down. “Conth, pick up the axe and get to work.”

Conth stood firm, “Make me!”

Jamon took in a deep breath, “Don’t do this. You know what will happen to both of us if you don’t do what you’re told. Just pick up the axe and get the tree down.”

“No! You do it.”

Jamon could almost feel the beating he knew he would get from Vondum should the man hear of this. He also knew what he would get would be only half of what would happen to his cousin. He moved up to Conth fully ready to fight him, knowing that with Conth having some training he would probably get his butt kicked, but Jamon figured if he got his butt kicked it would show Vondum he had tried to do his job. Sy pointed out several times that failure was bad in Vondum’s eyes, but fear and not trying was far worse.

Conth laughed, “So you want to get knocked on your butt?”

“Go for it.” Jamon snarled.

He didn’t have to wait long. Conth’s fist caught him in the side. Jamon felt a flair of raw anger, a rage that he had not been allowed to tap into since the day he had been captured by the Illorcs. He leapt on Conth and knocked him to the ground. Jamon went wild; while his fists hammered into his cousin, his knees, head, and even teeth all became weapons.

The fight stopped as suddenly as it had started. Jamon found himself yanked off Conth and flung backwards into a bush. He jumped up ready to fight only to see Sy towering over Conth who was still down on the ground bawling.

It was at this point Jamon realized the beating he had expected at the hands of his cousin had been an unfounded fear. He had beaten his cousin down and only had the first bruise on his side plus skinned knees and elbows from wrestling and beating his cousin.

Sy, on the other hand grabbed the other boy, “What’s goin’ on here!”

Jamon came up breathing hard, “He didn’t do anything. It was all me and Conth.”

Sy let the other boy go as he slowly turned to Jamon, “Really?”

The other boy spoke up, grateful that Jamon had spoken up for him, “Conth wouldn’t cut the tree down. Told Jamon to do it, then tried ta fight him when Jamon got in his face.”

Sy’s expression changed from anger to amusement. He glanced down at Conth then back to Jamon. “Me thinks we has a winner.”

The other boy couldn’t help it. He snickered. “No Doubt!”

Sy glanced back at the other boy, “Are ya doin’ what you were told?”

The boy shook his head and quickly went to work on the tree.

“I didn’t think so.” Sy chuckled as he scratched his head. He then focused back on Jamon. “I thought yer cousin had some trainin’ and ya didn’t have none.”

“He does and I don’t.” Jamon admitted, “I guess it didn’t make as much difference as I figured it would. He was just about to test for Training step three.”

Sy shook his head, “No, I’ve seen Vondum work with Conth. He should be able ta whip any mundane kid. There be only one possible reason. Yer not mundane.”

Jamon sighed, “No, I am Animal Adept. My father would not pay for training unless his kids were spell casters so I never got formal training. Kandric has worked with me some on Ruinseeker stuff and wants me to play with wild animals when I get a chance, but that’s it.”

Sy shrugged, then picked up the still crying Conth by the back of his britches. “I’ll talk ta Kandric ‘bout it later. Right now me be thinkin’ it be time ta move ya on with bein’ a lead slave. Come with me. Let this one get the tree down by himself.” Sy paused long enough to stare the other boy down, “Don’t go nowheres till this falls, then find Jamon so he can find ya some help.”

Once satisfied the boy would get the job done, Sy lead the way back to the small hut where all the slaves slept and roughly tossed Conth inside. He barred the door effectively locking Conth in before he went to the wagon Vondum had dropped off. He climbed in the back and dug around, “Ah! Here we go!” He shouted a few minutes later. “I know Vondum had a few of these tucked away somewhere.”

He came back with a pair of whips, one smaller, designed for a small being or child. The small one he handed to Jamon. “Ever used one these before?”

Jamon felt his stomach flip, “No sir. I have no practice in any weapons.”

“Well, today you will learn yer first real weapon.”

For over two hours Sy worked with Jamon. First he got the boy used to the feel of the whip then he showed him how to use it properly. They took a break allowing Jamon a chance to check on the slaves and send someone to help the other boy with chopping and digging the tree root out. Another hour of practice convinced Sy that Jamon was comfortable with the whip. He set up a bunch of targets and had Jamon strike at them.

Both Sy and Jamon were surprised at how well Jamon had picked up the basics of such a difficult weapon. Finally Sy patted Jamon on the back. “Good. Now we need to go take care of a problem.”

Sy lead the way over to the hut and unbarred the door. Inside the dim light was enough to show off the fat lip, blackened eyes, and bruised body of Conth who sat against the wall. Jamon had an idea of what would be expected and it made him slightly ill, but he knew he had no choice.

Sy snorted as he moved to grab the boy who made an effort to getaway but failed to even stand up. “So you don’t want ta do what yer told huh?” Sy snarled as he tossed the boy back into the corner with enough force to nearly knock the wind out of him.

Conth’s throat was dry after crying and getting no water for hours. He tried to speak but the words didn’t come. He swallowed what little spit he could produce. “I’ll chop the tree.”

“Too late. It dropped a full hour ago.” Sy growled, “This ain’t ’bout a tree. It’s ‘bout you refusin’ ta follow orders. Vondum, me and Kandric all made a point ta tell ya Jamon be the lead slave. Ya ain’t allowed ta tell a lead slave what yer gunna do!”

Conth’s lip trembled, “I’m sorry!”

“Not as sorry as yer gunna be.” Sy stated with a slight note of sadness. “Jamon, here, is goin’ ta spend some time showin’ you what’ll happen whenever you er the others refuse to do what yer told from here on out.”

Sy backed up, “Jamon, nothin’ ta the face. Don’t hesitate none, just do it and get it over with.”

Before Conth realized what was going on the whip snapped against his arm. He screamed.

Sy held up his hand to stop Jamon he moved forward and looked at the boy’s arm. “Not bad, but pull back quicker. Ya want pain not real injury. Ya took off too much flesh. That be a good combat strike though!” Sy backed up, “Again!”

Jamon bit back tears as he unleashed the whip against his cousin a second time. This time he pulled back too soon and missed. Still Conth screamed and wet his pants.

Sy took this in stride, “This is a great deal harder than a chuck of wood or cloth, huh?”

Jamon managed a nod, not trusting his voice.

Sy paused and moved over to Jamon, “I know ya don’t wanna do this, but ya gotta take bein’ a lead slave serious.”

Jamon snapped the whip again, this time the tip hit much higher than he wanted it, striking Conth in the collarbone. A high pitched wail could be heard well outside the hut.

Sy put a hand on Jamon’s shoulder. “Not a problem. Wipe the tears away kiddo. Now hold up fer a second and try ta calm down. Aim a little low fer now until you get a better feel with it. I don’t want ya putting out an eye accidentally. Anything else we can pretty much fix. Now try ta get yer range just between the first strike and the second attempt. We’ll just forget out this last one.”

Jamon blinked tears out of his eyes as he stuck again. This time the whip left a dark purple welt on Conth’s leg that oozed a little blood.

Conth howled and rolled on the ground thrashing in agony.

Sy moved back over to Conth and looked at the impact mark. “Perfect.” Sy stated with no real emotion. “I want ten more just like it then three combat hits on his back or the back of his legs. Sy then ripped Conth’s clothing off of him, tossing the rags in the corner. ”Make sure they are well scattered so Vondum will not find an area he will think needs more attention. Otherwise we will have to start over again when he comes back. Get one solid shot on each foot while I hold him down. Do not hit me either!"

Jamon had to force bile back down his throat as he heard what Sy wanted, yet the warning about Vondum told him Sy was going easy on Conth compared to what Vondum would have demanded. Jamon focused on hitting each foot. The back to back shots were harder than he intended, but he had to make sure he didn’t hit Sy. He was sure the man would have taken the whip to him if he had hit him.

Sy let Conth go and stood, “Well done. eight more, make sure one of em hits his butt. Then three hard combat strikes.”

Jamon tried his best to shut out the screaming of his cousin, tried to pull back at the moment of impact to lessen the blow, but twice this only caused Sy to stop him and point out the need inflict a decent wound and made the strikes not count. One of his hits went wild and hit Conth in the chest. This blow was counted, but Sy again stopped him to warn him of the dangers of hitting a bare chest with a whip. Ribs could be cracked and unseen damage inside could occur.

Finally Sy rolled Conth over and held him on his stomach. The last three lashes left angry red bloody strips across Conth’s thighs, butt and back and left Jamon in a mild shock over what he had done.

Sy stood and escorted Jamon out of the hut. “I’ve told ya in the past there be ways to break a slave without force, but even then, sometimes ya gotta show who be boss. Never let one a them slaves under ya threaten ya er tell ya no. Them be two things a slave just can’t be allowed ta do!”

Jamon nodded fighting hard to hold back the tears he knew would come shortly. He started to hand the whip back, but was stopped.

Sy pushed the whip back into Jamon’s hand, “Ya earned that taday. Don’t use it cause ya can, use it cause ya need to. As time permits I’ll work with ya some more and shows ya how ya can even hunt with it. I am very good with a whip. With Kandric’s permission I’ll start workin’ with ya on other weapons to.” Sy then paused and put his arm around Jamon, “I’m bettin’ yer gunna go ball yer eyes out. Do it. Get it out a yer system ‘fore Vondum gets back. Don’t let him see ya cryin’ cause a what ya did er you’ll pay fer it. He might make ya smack Conth a timer er two more just so he can watch ya. If’n he does, do it and make em count and stand tall. He’ll want ta see ya bein’ tough and not be ‘fraid a causin’ some pain.”

Jamon gulped hard, knowing Sy was not only telling him the truth, but by teaching him to do what he had done when Vondum was not around had probably saved him and Conth from a much worse punishment. Jamon moved around to the side of the hut and cried.

Jamon knelt and took a deep breath. He stuck a bronze mug into the water of the bucket next to the old hut and took a couple of good-sized gulps. As he did so he noticed his hands were badly shaking. He closed his eyes and lightly banged his head on the side of the hut.

Inside the hut the muffled cries burned into Jamon’s skull. He suddenly turned his head to the side and puked, not from some sickness, but from disgust over what he had just done.

Jamon walked away from everyone for nearly an hour. He tried to regain his composure as the memories of what he had just done to Conth, his cousin and his best friend, played over and over again in his mind.

Jamon washed out the taste in his mouth with another drink of water only to puke again as he noticed for the first time bloody bits of flesh on the whip that was now his. He wondered if he would ever look at himself as human again.

Finally his brother came up to him, “Jamon are you OK?”

Jamon wrapped his arms around the boy and shook his head. “No, no I’m not. I had to hurt Conth!”

The boy frowned, “But we hear he hit you first and wouldn’t do what he was told.”

Jamon choked back a sob as he grabbed his brother by the shoulders; “Did you see what I had to do to him Sanef?”

“Sy made all of us see him.” The boy nodded, “Vondum has him staked outside in that tent he made him put up. Vondum wants to see you but said you could take a little more time if you needed it.”

Jamon was stunned to hear this, “Vondum said I could take more time?”

“Yea, Sy was just as surprised as the rest of us.”

Jamon took a deep breath, “OK, fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

Glaster used the first half of the day to more carefully watch all of the boys under his care in not only their combat courses, but also their studies. It didn’t take long to see a huge discrepancy between the other boys and the child he was now certain was Zoldon.

The other five were far advanced in book learning, general knowledge, history, and writing, but none of them had half the overall fighting, Field and Subfield skills as Zoldon. In fact, Glaster realized this was something everyone had missed over and over again. Zoldon had not been made to keep pace with his brother. Instead the boy had been forced to exceed Klandon’s skills by a wide, wide margin.

Glaster again kicked himself. He had seen it all before. The games he had the boys play were below Zoldon’s abilities while challenging to the other five. Even looking back to the game of roll the hoop which had lead to him breaking the back of the so-called assassination attempts, he had seen the boys’ disparity in skills. Zoldon had been able to expertly maneuver the hoop with the stick toward the wall while the others found it difficult to keep the hoop rolling at all.

The others found the combat courses Glaster had helped to set up to be murderous. They dripped with sweat, cried in pain from getting hit repeatedly by an assortment of wooden and padded weapons, and they ended with bruises galore. Zoldon, on the other hand, had some trouble with the course, but had beaten it on the first day.

Glaster even added a couple of surprises just for Zoldon, because the whole point of the course was to make the kids realize they were not as good as they would have liked to believe. But once again, Zoldon had made it through and with his astonishing change in behavior toward Mylan, had even pointed out what he and the others were doing wrong. The next time through Mylan also managed to complete the course, much to the astonishment and aggravation of the others who had not yet come close.

Even the fight in the street showed skill far above what a Training Echelon step two should have been able to handle. Zoldon had eliminated two much bigger kids and left them in dire need of a Healthman. Of course Mylan had also taken down a kid with a great deal of ease, but had not done near the damage Zoldon had done.

However the sudden friendship between the two boys gave him an idea on how he might be able to break through some of the magical tampering Zoldon had been put through.

Glaster chewed on his lip as the kids broke up and went to get cleaned up. Finally he looked up, “Zol… Um, Klandon, Mylan come here a minute.” Glaster then muttered to himself as he reminded himself the boy in his care would have to remain known as Klandon to everyone including Zoldon and the other boys. It was not Zoldon’s fault, as he firmly believed he was Klandon. Besides to tip his hand now, would cause untold problems and even wide spread panic in the kingdom. If worse came to worse, Glaster decided, Zoldon could stay as Klandon for the rest of his life. No one would have to know. This was especially true since Glaster had lots to time to undo the damage done to the boy and there was no longer any magical control to force the boy into destroying his father’s kingdom.

The boys came over and looked up. Both could see the man was somewhat pre-occupied in other thoughts so they remained quiet with their arms draped victoriously over each other’s shoulders.

Glaster finally knelt and smiled at the display of comradery. “First off, congratulations to both of you. You are really pushing the others to keep up with you.”

Mylan grinned, “It is all thanks to Klandon sir. I kept missing a few small things which set me up to fail.”

Glaster ruffled both boys’ hair which gave him the beginnings of yet another hard on. One way or another Glaster knew he would have to find a boy very soon. He could not keep having sexual thoughts over the boys entrusted to him by high royalty. It just was not proper. They were above him in caste, and to force or trick them into sexual activities would be to betray the trust of a higher caste member, and therefore be a crime. The only way he could enjoy these boys would be to first ask their fathers, who may or may not agree. But Glaster also knew he should have done so before agreeing to take over their training. Since he had not, it simply was not an option.

Glaster pushed aside those thoughts. "I realize Klandon has given you some guidance, which, I firmly approve of and appreciate. However, this new closeness between you also opens up a chance for me to even something out which I have not liked since this trip started.

"I want to adjust a few things. I know this might disappoint the others, but I would really like the two of you to team up on the merchant caravan. This way, there will be three teams of two and no one will hold an advantage. I am not demanding this, but it would be nice to put everyone on a level field. What do you think?

Mylan glanced over at Klandon, “Fine by me sir.”

“Me to.” Klandon agreed with a degree of relief. “But, can you make it seem like you ordered it er something so Mylan ain’t got to look like he is the bad guy?”

Mylan pushed Klandon slightly, “Ain’t and er in the same sentence?”

Klandon smacked his head and sighed, “I’m…grrrr… I am sorry.”

Glaster grabbed both boys shoulders, “I will agree to look like the bad guy as long as the two of you continue to help each other. Mylan can help you with your speech and writing problems since your return from the islands while you can work with Mylan to improve his combat abilities. I will expect an extra private two hours of work with each of you every day. One hour on studies, one hour on combat, agreed?”

“More than fair.” Mylan stated quickly, “We both win!”

Klandon also nodded, “Absolutely!”

Glaster stood. “Great! Now I have one more thing I want you each to do today. I want to take you both to the guilds and get you re-tested. I have a feeling you are both better than your current pins show and well above the others as well.”

“Really?” Mylan’s eyes lit up with some excitement, “Why?”

Glaster grinned, “Because you both made it though a course designed to make you fail, you both beat the snot out of kids I had to fix up with some pretty powerful healing spells, and most importantly, it is a gut feeling I have.”

 

Kandric again called for the group to halt as he looked over Bloody Rock from the other side of the stream. He glanced back at Zeltoss; “Something is close and watching us. I can feel it. Go get Rylop and have him come up here.”

Zeltoss nodded with a shrug, “Sure.”

Rylop advanced at a crouch, “What’s up Kandric?”

Teacher Saslara also moved up and frowned almost instantly. “We are not alone.”

Kandric grinned as he turned to Rylop, “What she said. I do not see anyone or anything though.”

Rylop scanned the area, “Me neither. But of course, I don’t even feel nothing yet.”

Saslara snickered, “To be honest I didn’t notice it till I concentrated, so it appears Kandric once again shows his skills to be well into the Teaching Echelon, this time as an Outdoorsman.”

“Think how I feel.” Rylop grumbled, “I’m only Primary.”

“Yea,” Saslara whispered, “but remember there are a bunch of students, some of whom are not even Outdoorsman and all of them just trainees who are wondering what we are talking about up here.” She paused and looked over to Kandric, “What do you think?”

Kandric again surveyed the area, "I am not sure, but something is watching us right now and something else is watching that something from somewhere else close by. Watch my body for a few minutes. I am going to take a look from the spirit realms.

Rylop watched Kandric’s body go limp and turned to Saslara, “This is the first time I have ever worked with a Shaman before. What exactly is he doing and how?”

“A Shaman draws power from the spirit world and can exit their bodies and enter the spirit world. Other than that, I really don’t know. I have never seen anyone pull this stunt before so I am as bewildered as you are.”

Kandric entered the spirit realm and looked for the wind spirit, and found it as he was used to messing with some nearby trees. “Anything else in the area?”

"Only a couple of water sprites playing in the stream. You will want to be careful. They tend to like to overturn rocks as people in your world try to cross. I do, however, think you are being shadowed but have yet to locate who or what. It is an odd situation to say the least. I felt a gate open close to you last night, but all my investigations and similar ones done by your misty friend have turned up nothing.

“However, there is a pair of Black Dragonlings watching you from the four large boulders just north of the hill of iron. They have a Rock Demonette watching the spirit world for them too, so one of them is probably a Shaman.”

Kandric frowned deeply; “There is no way I can take a bunch of students against Dragonlings. I guess I will have to do this the hard way, but first I need to eliminate any warnings from the spirit world.”

Kandric moved quickly circling around Bloody Rock and coming in from behind. The second he saw the small Demonette he focused his power and let loose with the most powerful burst of wind spear he could manage. The air-based spell caught the pesky little Demonette completely off guard knocking it off the side rocks and a good way up on Bloody Rock.

The two Black Dragonlings saw some stones roll down the side of Bloody Rock and talked it over. The smaller of the two decided to take a peek into the spirit realm only to see the horribly wounded Demonette it had managed to get a favor from get a second wind spear from a mere boy. The second air attack was all it took to shatter the earth based beast from the lower plains.

The second Dragonling could not see what had happened but did notice a large rock sitting on the side of Bloody Rock shatter and the smaller rocks roll down the hill. It figured there was a problem, but couldn’t figure out what. It wanted to do something but protecting the body of its partner who was in the spirit realm had to be its priority.

Kandric saw the new arrival to the spirit realms but was more than a little pleased to see the shock on its features as it realized its ally had not gotten a single shot in let alone been able to warn anyone of the attack.

Kandric hated to spend more force, but he didn’t see much choice. He had to protect himself from attack spells while he maneuvered to deal with the latest threat. He rolled his thumbs and placed a spell shield over himself. He then moved on the Dragonling angling so the Dragonling’s left side had a boulder next to it.

Above the wind spirit swirled nervously. It didn’t see any way Kandric could survive a battle with such a large foe, but the boy had not asked for help which left this battle out of its hands for the moment.

On the far side of the river Rylop and Saslara watched as Kandric’s limp body mumbled a pair of spells and felt a brief gust of wind blow away from his body. About the same time they noticed two large puffs of dust on the side of Bloody Rock. This was followed seconds later by yet another muttering and a greenish glow washed over the boy’s body.

Zeltoss moved up and looked on with great concern. “What is wrong with Kandric?”

Saslara held up her hands in frustration. “I think he is fighting something in the spirit world. But I have only heard of this kind of thing. Only the most powerful Shamen are willing or able to fight in the realms of the immortals though!”

“What can we do to help?”

Rylop shook his head, “At the moment nothing.”

Kandric continued to close on the Dragonling. Then just as the beast got close, he dodged hard to the right in a maneuver Glaster taught him.

The Dragonling looked on the charging child with more amusement than anything else readied for the charge. But when the boy darted to its left, the Dragonling reached out with its arm, claws extended.

Kandric gritted his teeth and grabbed the outstretched arm like a lever. Even though the beast was a great deal stronger than he was, a widely stretched arm was no match for his charge. Instead of the claws ripping into him he simply spun the Dragonling in a partial circle then used every drop of his power to push extra hard as the arm connected with the large boulder. Kandric grinned as he felt the elbow hyper extend then snap.

The Dragonling let out a string of curses and a brief howl of pain as it managed to pull its arm out of the boy’s grip. It then fired off a Force Punch spell at the child. All this accomplished was to cause the glow around the boy to vanish.

Outside of the spirit realms the second Dragonling watched in helpless horror as its partner’s arm bent back them snapped at the elbow. It moved to see if it could figure out how to help its friend or at least splint the wound. It darted out of the cover of the boulder only to get Elvin Silver Steel arrow shaft with an emerald arrowhead in its temple.

Crouching down in the woods about 150 meters away a lone Alphar archer notched another arrow. It spoke to a second Alphar lying on the ground next to him with a near panicked whisper. “I do not have a clear shot at the second one. Do we need to close? You have to tell me something. We cannot afford to lose this child or Queen Jostalis will have our heads!”

Back in the spirit world, the wind spirit swirled in a huge circle above Kandric. It was still concerned about Kandric, as the boy was still fighting a very dangerous foe, but the advantage was now squarely with the boy. The wind spirit also noticed an arrow strike with perfect precision into the second Dragonling outside of the Spirit Realm. The glow of the magic was the most powerful the wind spirit had ever seen. Yet as it looked in the direction the arrow came from it was far more astonished to see an Elvin Shaman of immense power had entered the spirit reams as well. It noticed the newest arrival was carefully watching the fight at hand. Still, the wind spirit swirled high above the action and watched Kandric duck and roll under a thrown punch of the Dragonling. Kandric followed up with a hard kick into the Dragonling sending it off balance and into the boulder. The Dragonling roared in pain as its broken arm once again hit the rock. “Nice move my mortal friend!” the Wind Spirit shouted in glee.

Startled by this, the Dragonling Shaman looked up.

Kandric again took advantage leaping at the distracted Shaman and sticking his fingers into its eyes.

The Dragonling screamed and tossed Kandric off of it like a rag doll, but all it did to Kandric was to scrape up his arm slightly.

Zeltoss noticed a sudden road rash appear of Kandric’s left elbow. Spots of blood welled up from light tears in the skin which appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed a shirt out of his pack and pushed it up against the wound. “He is getting hurt!”

Rylop looked around; “We have got to do something.”

Saslara shook her head; “This is out of our hands guys. We just have to trust the boy.”

Kandric said a quick word of thanks to Syria for the wind armor pendant gift as he shook off the effects of being tossed about five meters back. He looked up to see the nearly blinded Dragonling on its knees clutching its gouged eyes. He moved around, picked up a large rock and smashed it down over the Dragonling’s head. The first shot knocked it into the ground, but it took two more to kill it.

Kandric glanced skyward, “Thank you once again my friend!”

“I did nothing, but you have other company.”

Kandric spun only to see a figure vanish. “Who was he?”

“An Elf. A Powerful One. I have no idea where he is either because he is invisible to us when he is not in the Spirit Realms. I think one of his friends dropped the other Dragonling with an arrow however.”

Kandric glanced over only to see the figure of the second Dragonling outside the spirit world was indeed dead with a single shaft through its skull. “Could it have been another helping hand from a god or goddess?”

“Not a chance Kandric.” The wind spirit swirled around creating a bit of a dust devil in the mortal realm. “The Shaman was an Elf, but not one I have seen the likes of before. You need to be careful when you return to your realm. But I think you may have another friend out there somewhere.”

“Great. Just what I need. One more unknown.”

The wind spirit chuckled. “I have to admit having you as a friend has really made my existence a great deal more interesting. You better get back before your mortal friends go crazy.”

Kandric laughed and bid the wind spirit a good day before returning to his body. He sat up and noticed Zeltoss was cleaning his arm. “Thank you!”

Zeltoss fell back and grabbed at his chest while swallowing hard, “Oh, don’t do that again I think I just aged twenty years!”

Saslara was equally surprised but wanted information, “What were you fighting?”

Kandric grinned, “Only a Dragonling and a Demonette. The path to Bloody Rock is now clear, but I had some help. Someone took down a second Dragonling who was doing the same thing you guys were for me. We may want to back off and have your students set up a cold camp while we check out what we are up against here.”

Saslara and Rylop looked at each other while Zeltoss spoke for them, “You take out a Dragonling and a demon thing and you act like it was a walk in the flipping park?”

“It was not a big deal. After all, I only got my arm scraped up, and will heal myself easily just before moon up as long as I still have force left. But I do not want to do so yet because I used quite a bit of casting energies already.”

Rylop’s mouth scrunched up for a few seconds;"I am going to have the kids pull back over the hill behind us while you two teachers figure out what we are going to do. I am way out of my league here. Rylop would have been even more concerned if he had been party to a conversation not far from where he stood.

On the far side of the stream the second Alphar suddenly sat up and shook his head. “You can stand down. Believe it or not, the boy won without my help.”

“Against a Teaching Echelon Dragonling Shaman?”

“And a Rock Demonette.” The second Alphar stated in some disbelief even though he had witnessed it. “The boy even has a wind spirit addressing him as friend, and no, the spirit did not help in the fight at all other than to surprise and distract the Dragonling for an instant.”

“So the boy did not do it alone then.”

“Wrong. The Dragonling already had a broken arm from a maneuver the boy pulled off without a spell. The spirit was doing nothing more than complementing the child on a spectacular move. If it had not done so, I would have.”

The Alphar with the bow looked at his friend for a full minute; “You are not joking are you?”

“No. Furthermore the boy cast a spell I have never seen before. It was some sort of anti-magic barrier or something. This Kandric snapped the arm of a Dragonling eight times his weight and gouged its eyes out with hand to hand combat maneuvers even though he carries a Frozen Flame on his back which can be used in the spirit realms. I would honestly be concerned to take him on one on one.”

“So why are we assigned to protect him?”

The Alphar Expert Echelon Shaman snickered, “Because he is an Alphar Prince. Because our Queen told us to. And most importantly because she is paying us a small fortune in extra danger duty pay which means this boy’s survival may be vital to the entire Alphar court.”

“But he is just a little kid!”

A twisted smirk formed on the Alphar Shaman’s face, “Why not tell the Teaching Echelon Dragonling Shaman the kid who just made him look like some Primary Echelon scrub in a straight up combat is nothing more than just some little kid. If you could find his ghost, it would tell you a different story, I assure you.”

 

Klent and his ragtag group of cutthroats from the Ghoul Drool made good time heading down toward Everone. None of them had any desire to stop, preferring to get as far away from Gambra’s people as possible. They rode through a string of storms and pulled into the walled town of Rolling Dale. The snow from the storm over the past couple of days made a stop over in the city absolutely necessary. The draft animals were near exhaustion after pulling the wagon through the snow and feed for the draft animals along with the ones Klent had purchased for everyone to ride was running low.

He turned to Lidevar as they entered the city gates, "There is a cheap inn with a fun tavern under it on the far side of town. Jester’s Brew, I think the name is. Get us three rooms and a place to put the mounts and the wagon. I’m going to head to the city square and see what prices are running for supplies and try to find someone hiring some extra protection for a caravan headed down to Everone. I am more than a little tired of spending all my coin. It’s time you all start earning some to pay me back.

Klent turned to Jory “You want to join me?”

The young Healthman nodded, “Sure, I need some herbs since I left the village low on them and we haven’t stopped anywhere.”

Klent nodded, "I know. I don’t have much money left, either. I have already spent 500 silver to outfit us and get everyone the basics.

Jory frowned, “I could hire out. My Healthman skills would bring in some coin.”

Klent reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair. "We are trying to be a merc unit for hire. It is my job, as the leader, to pay for all supplies and then hand out wages, not to send you in to make all of us money. Besides, I still have enough to keep us going for awhile. Even after I purchase healing herbs for you.

Jory grinned, “I don’t mind. I am just happy to get to see other places. This is a huge city!”

Klent laughed, “Sorry to disappoint, but this is a town not a city my boy. Junsac is over 4 times this size and it is one of the smaller cities.”

Jory’s grin faded, “Really?”

Klent again reached over, this time patting the boy on the back, “Jory, if I had known you had never been out of the village of Macar, I would have taken you to Junsac just so you could see the place. We only lived a couple of hours from it!”

Jory nodded, “I know, but my instructor didn’t want me going anywhere, cause he was only Secondary Echelon and he didn’t want the hassle of having an apprentice before he was Teaching Echelon. As it was, I was tested by a guild member who came through, so, even though I passed the test and have the paperwork from a Teaching Echelon being, I don’t even have guild pins.”

Klent pulled hard on the reigns of his horse, “So you never got tested in the Mage Guild either?”

“Nope. Didn’t test as Scorpion Sect Warrior either.”

“Well, my boy, that is going to change right now. We are going to the Guilds and have you go through formal testing.”

Jory’s excitement returned instantly. “Alright!”

Klent took a moment to ask directions from a guard as to the location of the Mage Guild then lead the way through the streets.

Jory was astonished at what he was looking at. He was almost thriteen years old but many of the things he saw readily available in shop fronts and even small merchant push carts were items that he only saw when a large merchant caravan came through his tiny village.

It never occurred to him that there were Metalworkers who did nothing but make weapons or armor as the Metalworker in Macar could make a sword, but was just as happy to make bucket of nails or a bronze pot.

The fact there was a shop that did nothing but silver work right next to another forge which only handled gold work was almost beyond comprehension.

He kind of chuckled as he noticed a jewelry shop was right across the street from the two forges. It made sense because all three could work together on some things while still being able to do their own projects, but here again, was something he had never seen before. The thought of someone doing nothing but making and selling jewelry was pretty wild.

Finally Klent led him to a small three-story tower and hopped off his horse. “Here we are!” He quickly secured his own horse and Jory’s next to a pair of War Steeds and a Dragon Steed.

Jory leapt off his horse with a degree of eagerness as he gazed at the three majestic animals, but some of his nervousness also showed, “Is it true that the guilds go harder of those below the age of ascension?”

“Yea, especially as young as you are. But you are still in the Junsac Barony and there are two boys younger than you who are Secondary Echelon, maybe even three kids. So the testers in this area are more open to skilled children.”

“Secondary?” Jory almost shouted, “How can a kid younger than me be Secondary Echelon?”

Just then Glaster walked out of the Mage Guild with Klandon and Mylan. The prince wore brand new Training Echelon step four pins while Mylan sported Training Echelon step three pins from his earlier test. Glaster smiled at the cute boy, “Quite simple young man. I trained him.”

While Jory’s mouth fell open at the sight of someone wearing Master Echelon Shaman pins, Klent’s eyes fell on the Prince and his eyes went wide.

Glaster moved up to Jory half-wondering if he could pay the boy for a night or twenty in bed, “So are you here to test?”

Jory nodded and gulped. “Yes I am Master.”

Glaster patted Jory on the back and took a moment to feel the boy’s soft hair. The boy was very cute indeed. “There is no reason to call me by guild rank. It is only important to those who need to fear it, not to a beautiful lad such as yourself.” Glaster took off the guild pins as he finished speaking. Normally he went without, but going to any Guild he tended to slip them on to cut down on arguments on why a Shaman was bringing a Mage to test. Just like the boy in front of him, those in the guilds saw the pins and ignored everything else.

Jory blushed slightly. “Beautiful? Me?”

“Without question.” Glaster paused realizing the boy might just be available after all as the youngster didn’t back away or look angry. Glaster really wanted a boy he could do what he wanted with, but a boy like the one standing before him would be a nice change. Glaster decided to see how far he might get. “So what is your name lad?”

Jory managed to smile but still shifted uncomfortably. He could tell the man standing before him was more than a little interested in him. “Jory sir.”

Meanwhile Klent was carefully looking over the Prince. He turned away as not to stare which also allowed him to pull out a piece of parchment Lidevar had given him out of his belt. The drawing was of the child Gambra had wanted those she paid to attack the caravan to get for her. He carefully unfolded it and looked at it closely. The drawing and the boy matched right down to the tiny twin creases on the bottom of the chin and the left eye being a slightly lighter shade then the right eye.

Klent’s blood ran cold. How could anyone hand over such a beautiful child to the likes of Gambra? There was no way he could let this happen. He watched the exchange between the Master Echelon Shaman and Jory for another moment before he interrupted. “My apologies Master Shaman, but is there any way we could all continue this conversation over dinner or something. I really need to get Jory here tested and buy things for my group before the shops close for the night.”

Glaster raised an eyebrow, clearly not happy about someone interfering as he was trying to find a boy to enjoy for the night, but he relented without any real hesitation. “Yes, I should not be taking valuable time from a boy needing to test. Let me pay for a good meal for all of us at the Green Goblin about an hour after sunset?”

Klent agreed instantly thankful the guy didn’t wipe the street with his broken body. Angering a Master Echelon being was just not something Klent had on his list of smart things to do.

 

Jamon walked back to the hut after taking a few minutes to compose himself and to prepare for punishment or the need to further punish his cousin. He quickly spotted Conth chained to a post outside the hut.

Conth wore a burlap sack with holes cut into it for his arms and head and nothing else, not even a loin cloth. The welts from the whipping could still be seen on his arms, feet and legs, but they had been cleaned. The chains were long enough to allow his cousin to get into a small tent in case it rained, but he only had a thin blanket and no ground cloth.

Vondum saw him coming and smiled, “Well, there be our lead slave now!”

The man’s demeanor could not have been any more surprising. There was no sign of malice in his tone or his features. Jamon kept his face as neutral as possible, “You needed to see me master?”

Vondum nodded, “As a matter of fact I didn’t need to see you. I wanted to.” He paused to glance back at Sy, “Does our lead slave need to take care of anything for the next hour or so?”

Sy, who looked completely astonished, shook his head, “Nothin’ I can think of. If’n we need anything I’ll handle it till he gets back.”

Vondum motioned for Jamon to follow him. He started walking toward Slome. Once he was out of earshot of everyone he glanced down. “When you were first handed to me I thought you were a fighter. Then when you made it all the way to my camp I knew you had a rare inner drive. Finally, even after hanging on my wall, you never completely gave up. You remind me so much of what I was like as a kid it scares me.”

Vondum paused and moved over to the side of the road before kneeling in front of Jamon. “The truth of the matter is, if I had it to do all over again, I would give Conth to Kandric and keep you. You have far more backbone than any three kids like your cousin.”

Vondum took a deep breath, “But there is one thing I want you to know. Something I will never admit to telling you, but a lesson I want you to take and put right here.” Vondum reached out and tenderly put his hand over Jamon’s heart. “Long ago I was where you are now. I was an enforcer, beating and torturing kids a little older than I was to quite a bit younger than I was. I made the decision to do so out of concern for someone very close to me. Later, when I had the chance to regain a piece of who I was it was too late for me to do so.”

Jamon looked down at the huge hand still resting on his chest and back into the man’s eyes. For the first time since he had been handed over to Vondum he could not see any evil in the man’s eyes. For the first time Jamon realized the man had a heart buried deep inside. “Why was it too late master?”

Vondum took in a huge breath and blinked his eyes to avoid showing a tear, “Because I had come to cherish the power, to feed off the screams, to enjoy what pain, both physical and mental, I could do to others. Worst of all, I began to thrive off of hearing others talk about my reputation as the meanest of the mean and I didn’t want to give it up. It began to circle into tighter circles where fear gave me power and pain gave me fear and my reputation was kept solid because of fear. The screams were just a bonus.”

Vondum pulled a stunned Jamon into him and gave the boy a hug. “Jamon, you are a lead slave. You have a job to do, but do not let what happened to me happen to you. The first day you enjoy hurting someone under you take your whip and smack your foot with it. Take a splinter and shove it under your fingernail. Or take a stick, still glowing from the fire and push it against your own skin. Do whatever it takes to remind yourself what you are doing to others and what it feels like. Keep what is here.” Vondum again put his hand on Jamon’s chest.

Vondum stood as he let go of Jamon, “Promise me, right now you will fight to keep a piece of goodness always lit inside you.”

Jamon nodded, “I will master. I promise.”

A bit of a smirk returned to his features, “This does not mean I want you to ease up on any of the slaves! You showed them all why you are the lead slave today and I am equally proud of you for this. Being able to push past your fear and disgust and do what needed to be done is what makes a real man.”

“I understand Master.”

Vondum again softened and ruffled Jamon’s hair. “Good. Now let’s get you tested so we can see where you are and what Kandric and I need to work with you on. They have an Animal Adept shop in Slome. What type of creature would you be interested in?”

Jamon could not believe how Vondum was treating him. He shrugged briefly, “I likes dogs and birds best sir.”

Vondum seemed to smile slightly, “Let’s see what the Guild thinks you can control then we will find you a good feathered or furry pet then.”

Jamon walked the rest of the way in silence allowing Vondum’s hand to rub his back. No longer was this as much of a challenge for somewhere deep inside the big man there was a dim glow of goodness.

 

Glaster walked down the streets of the city alone as darkness fell. He wanted to clear his head. He needed to concentrate on helping Zoldon. The only problem was his thoughts kept spinning in circles. Prince Zoldon had died in his mother’s arms. He had been buried in a royal ceremony attended by hundreds of nobles. His motionless body had been scanned for signs of life by a Mage before his mother let go of him, again as he was put into the glass coffin, and one last time before the coffin was secured in the crypt. The precautions were to insure the boy’s death had been complete and that he would not return as an undead being haunting the royal tomb.

Yet, somehow, Zoldon survived, got placed into the hands of someone with the resources to keep his training on pace with that of his twin brother, and then pull off a switch right under the King’s nose almost nine years later. The planning to pull off such an operation was beyond Glaster’s comprehension. Every time he tried to piece together some way to pull it off he failed.

Frustration built as Glaster continued to wander the streets. He knew his thoughts should be on figuring out a way to find Prince Klandon. Unfortunately, the only way he could see to begin the search was to find the ship’s captain who had treated the boy. For there was the only opportunity for the switch to occur. Finding the ship would take a stroke of pure luck, however. In Glaster’s mind it would be like finding a specific twig in a huge lake months after tossing the twig in.

Truth of the matter was, Glaster expected the ship to be sunk in deep water somewhere. The being behind the planning of the overall plot was too intelligent to leave such a clue around for others to find should the plot start to unravel. This chain of thoughts only led him back to the last known point Zoldon’s whereabouts had been known. The time the boy had supposedly perished in his mother’s arms.

He kicked a rock in anger sending it skittering across the cobblestone street. His mind went back to the tearful mother, the mourning father, and the sullen faces of nobles kneeling before the king to offer condolences. Once again he dug deep into his memories trying to pick out anything he had missed, and again after careful examination he found nothing to indicate an alarm should have gone off.

There was no such thing as the perfect plan. The whole ploy had to roll on many small points just like a massive statue rolled on logs pulled by beasts of burden or men. All he had to do is find one of the rollers of the plan that was left behind and follow the trail from there. The large stones had already been destroyed. The Royal Healthman had been killed. Zoldon had been put through so many Memory and Forget spells it was hopeless to use him for information. The ship where the switch had been made was missing. The Princes’ mother was dead and the King, blinded with grief and the fact affairs of the kingdom kept him away from his son, didn’t know his own child well enough to see the switch.

Assassins had done a beautiful job of eliminating all those close to Prince Klandon while making it look like the Prince had been the target. All of Klandon’s teachers, mentors, and servants had been executed with astonishing efficiency all while making it look like the Prince had been the lucky to escape with his young life. There was no one left who could see what had happened. The plan had been carried out flawlessly. One thing was sure, he would have to continue on as if he had Klandon with him until he found the first born Prince.

Glaster pressed his hands into his temples as his circling thoughts started over again. So absorbed in his own dilemma, Glaster tripped right over a beggar child who had come out of a side alley with a pouch held open hoping for a coin or bit of food.

Glaster tumbled to the ground, but even as he fell he was already rolling to stand back up. Before he knew what had happened he spun with his sword out and a spell ready.

The urchin saw the blade come out and let out a choked scream and huddled on the ground. Not looking up the youngster’s panicked voice sounded muffled as it was directed at the ground. “No kills me! Me sorry!”

A well-dressed rider saw the event and reacted. Jumping off his Dragon Steed, the man closed the distance quickly. “Good sir, are you alright?”

Before Glaster could respond the tip of the man’s whip whistled though the air and struck the huddled beggar on the side. The child screamed and writhed on the ground clutching the strip on his side where his poor clothing had been ripped and the welt left behind seeped a little blood.

A second snap of the whip caught the urchin in the leg as Glaster sheathed his sword in a single motion. Another scream echoed in the nearly empty street. Those who saw what was going on moved away. Those who stuck their nose out of their doors to see what the commotion was saw two men, clearly of great wealth, and a wailing kid dressed in nothing more than rags. Matters of class were not something anyone wanted to be in the middle of. Doors closed and a couple of kids who had ventured out to get a better view were quickly called back in.

Glaster shook his head as he allowed the combat spell to slip away unused, force wasted. “I will be fine. Thank you for your quick response.”

The man readied the whip for another strike but held it waiting for Glaster’s decision. “You are getting close to the squatter sections. You need to be careful in this area.”

Glaster gave a slight nod which sent an unspoken message to the man to deliver one more and only one more crack of the whip against tender flesh. A third angry stripe become visible on the child’s back as the thin cloth covering the area tore like paper. Glaster glanced down to see the youth gasping for breath needed to continue to scream before turning his full attention to the man. He gave a slight bow, “I am not normally one to be worried about where I walk. Your concern, however, is noted with gratitude.”

The man coiled the whip and slipped it back onto his belt holder. “You sound of royal birth rank. Surely three strikes is too kind for such a transgression of one of such a low class.”

“I was nothing more than a whipping boy for high royalty.” Glaster grinned, “So the child has two things going for her. First I know from experience what a whip feels like and second I am nothing more than a Merchant Prince with low royal title. Besides, I was the one not watching where I was going.”

Glaster paused as he realized the Dragon Steed had royal crests on the saddlebags, “It looks as if I should be the one deferring to you.”

“No.” the man stated firmly, “I am on business for the King, but am nothing more than a captain in the regional guard. I was sent here to deliver a firm notice to the local constable about matters similar to this. I am to conduct a closed hearing and pass judgement on all those involved. For it seems a pair of high birth rank children were improperly treated after an altercation with some local peasant youth.”

Glaster’s grin widened. “Indeed they were. As a matter of fact, the boys in question are my charges. I was told to expect someone quickly, but I did not expect such a rapid reaction. The password you need from me is stonewood. You will not ask for names and should you hear any you will forget them.”

“Such are my orders!” The man stammered out in surprise as he knelt. “I was told to defer to you as if you were the lord in charge sir!”

Off in the side alley a man appeared with a club in his hand, “Ya lets da boy go!”

“Boy?” Glaster glanced down with renewed interest, “I actually thought he was a girl.”

The man in front of Glaster stayed on a knee while grabbing for a blade. His hand didn’t even reach the hilt before a flash of brilliant white light leapt from Glaster’s hand and flung the man with the club back into the alley. “Had I known this whelp was a boy I would have never allowed a third strike of a whip to hit his flesh.”

Glaster quickly returned his attention back to the man with the whip. He motioned for the man to stand, ignoring the moans coming out of the alley. “Your actions up to this point show me you are exactly the type of man I wanted to be sent.” Glaster turned away from the Captain for a split second reacting quickly as he saw the beggar child try to crawl off back into the alley. He stepped fairly hard on the urchin’s hand; “Our business is not concluded quite yet brat! Stay!”

Glaster held up his hand to stop the man from uncoiling his whip. “Give this one a chance. I doubt his actions were taken out of disrespect. A whip across the back is probably more than he has ever had to endure in his young life and he simply wanted to get out of our way and check on who I can only guess is his father. Is this correct boy?”

The urchin let out another yelp as he felt the pressure on his hand increase; “Me’ll no go nowhere! Please no kill me er Pa!”

Glaster nodded in satisfaction as he removed his foot from the boy’s hand. “Do not move again boy. There will be no more free chances for you.”

Glaster snickered as he saw the Captain glance down the alley. "Unless he landed on something back there he will live. I hit him with a low power spell. Now Captain, what I want is for you to hear the facts, talk to all those involved, all witnesses, and any other sources you deem to be useful. Once you have a good idea of what happened and why I will insist on you rendering a ruling on each and every one involved in the altercation without input from anyone including myself. I expect you to use the same calm levelheaded approach as you used on this street. I demand an independent and completely fair ruling on each person involved. Let the facts speak for themselves while keeping in mind that boys will be boys no matter what their social class is.

“Once this is complete your final task will be to review the magistrate’s actions and make recommendations as to what actions, if any, need to be taken against him. Are there any questions?”

The captain shook his head, “None sir.” He paused and looked around, “Well, one. Do you want me to stick around as you deal with this situation?”

Glaster’s eyes gleamed, “Do you think I require assistance?”

“No, but some may be helpful, none the less.”

“Good point.” Glaster pointed to the urchin. “Pick him up and have him stand straight.”

Glaster looked over the filthy child for a few minutes then cast a torch light spell to get a better view. The boy had potential; all he needed was a little sprucing up. He was thin; a little too thin to be really healthy, had jet black hair and gray eyes. The boy’s long hair and graceful appearance gave him an almost feminine look. Glaster checked the whip marks then raised the boy’s chin and pulled the kids lips open so he could look at the teeth. He frowned as he saw how poorly cared for the boy was. “How old are you?”

“Me’ll be ten sir.” The boy whimpered and squirmed as Glaster continued to inspect him.

“When?” Glaster asked while squeezing his chin so the boy would stop moving.

The urchin got the message and stopped trying to avoid Glaster’s hands. “A moon er two, me think. Pa say me gets older ‘bout dark moon after crop plantin’ moon.” The boy winced as Glaster’s hand rubbed against the whip mark on his side.

Glaster healed the wound with another spell, making it powerful enough to completely heal all three of the whip strikes along with any bumps and bruises that go along with a boy of almost ten. “What is your name?”

“Perth.” The boy stated with a sigh as all the pain in his body vanished.

Glaster stood and handed the captain a trio of electrum coins. "Get him some cotton clothing. Preferably light blue in color, then take him to the Babbling Brook Bathhouse. Get him and yourself cleaned up. Do not let them cut his hair, but make sure it is fully washed and evened out with a light trim. If he has not been circumcised get him so. There is a Healthman who works at the Babbling Brook who will do the work and check the boy over for lice or other problems. Even though I do not see any signs of such.

Make sure the circumcision is done close and well. I will heal him with another spell tomorrow, but he will be very tender even after I do so, so make sure you get a couple of very soft loin cloths for him. Then get a good meal in both of you in the inn across the street from the bathhouse. Get a good room and watch him tonight. I will meet you both tomorrow morning at first light."

The captain looked nervously at Glaster; “You cannot just take the boy sir, unless you are much higher royalty than you have implied.”

Glaster winked, “I am not taking him, although I assure you I could. Instead I am going to make him and his father a deal they cannot refuse.” Glaster knelt in front of Perth and looked deep into the boy’s eyes. “You have a choice. Do you want to get punished further by a whip and watch what happens to you and your father when the city guards learn of his attack on a high merchant?”

Perth’s eyes went very wide and he shook his head. He knew he would end up in the center of town in stocks for at least a day probably a great deal longer if the town guard was called in. He had often seen what happened to those in the stocks and had, on occasion, even taken a few minutes to torment them. The idea of that happening to him plus getting whipped more was not something he wanted to think about let alone go through. He started crying. “No, please, no!”

Glaster smiled, “Such a polite boy. Then do you want to go with the good captain here and do what I want when I collect you from him instead?”

Perth showed some raw intelligence as he frowned and wiped away the tears on his cheeks, obviously not liking such an open ended second choice. Still trying to fight back tears of fear, he looked up with a degree of hope. “Me no get whip and no put in town stock?”

“No stocks or whips shall touch your flesh here nor anywhere else as long as you continue to do what I want. You will be clothed as needed as well as properly feed, and taught, maybe even trained. We shall have to see what the gods have blessed you with.”

Perth trembled, “What me do? When me done?” His voice already told both Glaster and the captain he had surrendered to Glaster, but wanted to know more.

Glaster’s smile warmed considerably as he realized the boy was indeed clever. “You will be free from service to me upon your fifteenth year unless you decide to extend it. I will tell you no more.”

Perth used his fingers to count. He lowered his head; “Me do whats ya wants fer five year?”

Glaster raised an eyebrow, “Yes, five years. Or shall I call the town guard?”

Perth fiercely shook his head, “OK, five year.”

“Smart kid.” The captain noted aloud while looking down the alley, “What about the father?”

“I will handle him. Just get Perth here taken care of.” Glaster headed into the alley whistling cheerfully. He had a date tonight where he would hopefully be able to entice a boy and he now had a boy to fully enjoy as he wanted which would at least allow him spend less time focusing in on how cute the royal boys in his care were.

Glaster stood over the man he had downed with the Force Punch spell with a smirk, “If you reach for your club the next thing I will do to you will make the first spell I tossed at you feel like a feather rub.”

Perth’s father moved his hand away from the thick stick without saying a word.

“Maybe your son gets some of his common sense from you after all.” Glaster remarked lightly. “Now let us see if he got the intelligence from you as well.”

“Whats ya wants?”

“It is not a matter of what I want. It is simply a matter of how I go about getting it.” Glaster paused to allow his words to sink in. When he was sure the guy grasped what he had said he continued. “Your son will be spending the next several years with me, the question is do I simply pay you a fee for this and you go your own way or do we have to fight over control of Perth. Before you decide you may wish to consider every type of fight possible to win him. Then decide what would give you any chance of victory.”

The man pulled himself up but had to hold his ribs to ease the pain. “Ya can’t takes ’im. Me ain’t dumb!”

“True, I would have to get a local lord to grant him to me. To do this I would have to show he owes me or is orphaned, which he would be if you went to the dungeons for attacking a Merchant Prince. I could then bypass his mother, if there is one in the mix, gaining control of him for repayment of damages done to my person. This is made even easier since Perth has already agreed to transfer himself into my care. Any Mindmaster could verify this.”

The man glared at Glaster as he thought it over. It didn’t seem right that someone could take his eldest son from him. He knew he was nothing more than a beggar and the man facing him was a much higher caste. Yet the fact money, schooling, and born talent had graced the guy in front of him didn’t make the situation any easier to swallow. He had to work hard to control his anger knowing it would not do him or any of his children any good if he exploded.

Glaster on the other hand, readied a spell. He had no qualms about killing the man where he stood if necessary. It would be better to pay the guy off, but the man had attempted to attack him. A mundane beggar raising a weapon to a guilded Merchant was infuriating. The man should be honored to be in the presence of anyone so much higher in caste! It was one thing to do business with beings of lower castes as equals, but to be attacked by one this lowly was ridiculous.

Perth’s father’s shoulders slumped as he looked over the man in front of him. He knew he had no chance against the man’s money, fighting skill or magic. Perth had made a single mistake that would cost him his childhood.

Tears welled up in the man’s eyes as he realized how much he would miss his son’s giggles during the play wrestling before bed. He doubted he would ever fill the void which his small shack would certainly have. He had no clue what he would tell Perth’s younger brothers or sister either. All four of them looked up to their older brother for guidance and help on a daily basis. Perth was more than his son. The boy was also his pride and joy. The man could almost feel his heart breaking as he whispered, “How ya put a cost to me boy?”

Glaster, for his part, at least saw and heard some of the pain in the man. With the indisputable evidence of the man’s love for his son, Glaster let go of his distaste of the man. He softened considerably. “You are a good man, who wanted to protect his son. I can understand. I really can. I find it would be impossible to set a price on love, but Perth is going with me. What would be reasonable in your mind?”

The man sobbed. “Him can’t be paid fer. Nothing’ can replace what him do fer me and me younger uns. Me’ll does work fer ya, pay ye backs wit sweat und blood!”

Glaster shook his head. He would not bend on keeping Perth. He needed the boy to take away the distraction of having to train and teach six very cute eight-year-old boys. Instead Glaster pushed aside the last of his anger toward the man which allowed his mind to formulate a good solution for both of them. “As I said, Perth is coming with me. This is not a negotiation point. However I think we can work something out that would help all of us.”

Perth’s father continued to have tears spill out of his eyes but he hardened slightly. “How ya takin’ me boy gunna help him er me?”

“First off, Perth will end up a much higher caste than you could provide for. He will learn to read and write, he will lean how to handle considerable sums of money, keep books and if he can be guilded I will see to it. So do not look on this as all bad for him. Instead try to see this as him finding someone to apprentice out to. Such a chance is beyond rare for a beggar.”

This calmed the man a great deal. He wiped the tears out of his eyes, “So ya pays me und teaches me boy? Me be missin’ somethin’.”

Glaster sighed, “He will work for his training, it will not be freely given, but he will receive the best schooling money can buy. However, it goes beyond my handing you some coins for your boy. I want to offer you a chance to better the lives of all of your family.”

“This be some trick?”

“No trickery. I was going to offer you a flat fifty silver for your boy, but I can see you care about him. Such a thing is worthy of more. How many children do you have?”

The man frowned, “Four but ya ain’t getting’ no more!”

Glaster held up his hand. “I was not asking for that reason. Instead I was asking so I could figure out a way to ease some of your burden. What do you say I pay you seventy-five silver for Perth? Then, in exchange for services from you, I will pay a local school to teach all four of your other children for three years worth of classes. I will include enough to feed them a meal every day, to buy them acceptable clothing and supplies so they can learn the basics of reading, writing, math, history, and the beginnings of a trade craft. I looked at gaining a boy from the local school so I know they teach every child who goes there the basics of a trade. They will get a chance to work leather, the arts of a cobbler, to spin wool, or to make and fire pottery. Those who show real potential are given the chance to become a Fletcher, glass blower, stone cutter, or a few other trades that would make them skilled peasants at the very least. The day they turn eight you can send them to the school. This way all of your children will have a chance at breaking out of their caste. All told I will pay about 250 silver per child on this deal.”

Perth’s father’s eyes narrowed, “Many a man would kill fer such a chance fer his young! What does ya wants from me?”

Glaster had to fight not to smile. He had set the hook the guy just didn’t realize it. “It is a simple task. I need you to go into the refugee camp and find out what happened there to change the attitude of a boy in my care. He went in cocky, like he owned the world and it owed him a favor for him doing so. He came out and jumped right into the middle of a fight to help his cousin. I need someone of a lower caste, with intelligence, to go in there and find out who said what to him. See if anyone noticed changes in the boy and what may have caused them. It may be my only shot at helping him with nightmares he has every night.”

“Whats if me no find nothin’?”

“Then I pay for two of your four to attend the school. You get to choose.”

“Then what?”

“There is no more.”

“Ya not wantin’ nothin’ else from me?”

“Your son is a high enough price. I could not ask more of you.” Glaster lied, knowing he would love to find out if Perth had any younger brothers and wondered how cute they were.

The man chewed on his lip for a few minutes, “OK, Me’ll does whats ya asks. Jus no be beatin’ me boy fer no reason er nothin’!”

“I have no desire to punish any child, let alone do so for no reason. He will be well cared for, but discipline and complete obedience will be maintained.”

“OK. Ya wins. Where me finds ya if’n me gets somethin’ fer ya?”

“I will be here every evening for the next five days. You will either have the information I need by then or you will have to pick which two of your children will go to school. I will bring the silver tomorrow evening along with a paper turning Perth over to me so you can put your mark on it.” Glaster didn’t wait for a reply. He left the man alone in the alley as he made his way back into the merchant area of town. There was finally something to smile about. His bed would no longer have just himself in it at night.

 

Conner looked over at his brother, “Aster, are you sure you’re OK with this?”

Aster sighed showing he was not as comfortable with it as he made his voice and words sound. "Yea. You stay with the Thunder Rapids and we will meet you down in Everone. Besides much of the trade goods we had with us will now be in your hands to sell since we didn’t start out with much in the way of perishables, and with what we have secured from the toll gate fort and village we are now full on them. Since you guys can’t move yet we might as well grab all the captured food stuffs and make a run with them before they start to go bad.

Aster took a deep breath, “Conner, I know you aren’t used to this, but I left you the prices we paid and what I think would be a good selling price. One way or the other, though, you need to get rid of most of the stuff we were loaded with, since I am sure we will want to change out before heading down to Everone, and I’d sure like to be able to split some decent profits with you so you can have some coin too.”

“I’ll do what I can, but I ain’t never done no merchant work before.”

Pontarious snickered, “My crew will help you son.” He handed a couple of potions to Aster, “A fire wall when you really need one lad. Just be careful, if it drops and breaks it will burst into flame.”

“I’ll make sure to keep it handy yet safe!”

“Good, and don’t you worry none. I will watch over your goods and help your brother learn the arts of book keeping and trading, but I expect you to do the same for my son and Quavis.”

Aster gave the barge captain a huge hug. “You can count on it Captain!” Aster looked down at his pets, "Shade, Dart, Frost, you are to help Quavis and Benem in any fight.

Dart jumped down from a nearby tree and landed on Quavis’ saddle and wrapped its wings around the boy while Frost stood tall and walked up next to Benem’s Dragon Steed. The huge white griffin then extend a wing protectively around Benem.

Pocet laughed, “I think your boys are in very good wings captain.”

Pontarious smiled, yet had to wipe away a couple of tears, “You boys sure you want to travel over land?”

Benem nodded. “Yea dad. I have never done a real trip before on my own. I’ll be fine. Aster will continue my Animal Adept training while Sardan and Segell will make sure I keep up with my book studies. This is no different than when we first took Quavis for a week.”

“You are wrong, son.” Sardan chirped out, “This trip has a great deal more danger potential then a trip down a river.”

“Oh come on, guys. I may be a kid, but I really want to do this!”

“We know you do.” Sagell stated, “But your father has valid concerns. This trip will be much longer than a week and there is little safe about it.”

Quavis snorted, “The only reason you are heading overland is because the barge was attacked Teacher. Nothing seems very safe any more.”

Pontarious noticed Sardan and Segall exchange looks similar to those of a kid caught with a hand in a cookie jar. He laughed, “Don’t you just hate when a kid takes your words and makes you eat them?”

Sagell lowered her head and snickered, “Captain, you have the last word on this. He is your son and Quavis is, by your own desire, your stepson. We are happy to have them travel with us if you will allow it.”

Pontarious took a moment to pull both boys off their saddles and hug them. “I love you two. Take care of each other and stay in one piece so I can give each of you another one of these down in Everone.”

Both boys agreed and accepted a kiss on the forehead from the Mystic before climbing back up to the Dragon Steeds.

Pontarious watched the two boys ride off next to Aster’s wagon with the traveling forge. Once the whole group disappeared over the hill he finally went below to look for Conner. He found the young man working with the crew, using some rather unusual methods to help them patch the leaks. The lad had cast a wind wall through the biggest hole which prevented water from continuing to rush in. The Men of the Thunder Rapids had to fight the wind currents to slap on a patch, but the hull stayed dry and they could fully see the damage that needed patching.

“Interesting.” Pontarious spoke up as he put his hand on Conner’s shoulder. Have you considered joining a ship yard as a repair foreman?"

Conner grinned, “My teacher teaches all his student how ta use spells in ways outside the norm. Did you know you can cast a restrain spell on the ground around the meanest of thorn bushes so many people like to plant next to their homes to prevent thieves and it will give you something to climb up and get to the roof?”

Pontarious rubbed his chin to hide a smirk that held a mixture of humor and displeasure. “Um, no. Can’t say I have thought of such a use for a restrain spell.” He switched subjects. “Let the men use your spell and join me in my cabin. I think it is time to talk about something other than your teaching and your past.”

Conner sighed, “I kind of wondered if you didn’t allow Benam and Quavis to go with my brother so you could spend more time with me.”

Pontarious held up his hands as if surrendering, “It was not my original plan, but when my son asked me about going with Sagell, I did see it as an opportunity.”

Conner followed the captain to his quarters and sat down on his bed. He started to undress.

“What are you doing?”

Conner stopped, “Getting ready to go to bed with you. I know what you want, and I will give it to you because you care about me more than anyone I can ever remember. Maybe I can learn to love with you in ways I never have been able to before.”

Pontarious crossed the room and knelt in front of Conner and tears welled up in his eyes. He looked over the boy and started to re-fasten the buttons on the boy’s shirt. “No son. I do not want anything of the sort.”

Conner froze. He watched in complete confusion as the man took a few minutes to fully re-dress him. His mind was now really spinning, “What then?”

Pontarious sat next to the boy and put his arm around him. “When was the last time someone did this with no price attached?”

“Aster”, Conner answered instantly, “when we lived together in the orphanage. Right after he told me he was going to live in the forge and he would not be living with me any more.”

“Why do you think he did it?”

“Because he was sorry I could not join him and he knew we would both miss each other.” Conner paused and let out a deep sigh, “He was right too.”

“OK, now tell me when the last adult to give you even a light hug was.”

Conner’s thoughtful frown deepened for almost a fell three minutes. When he spoke it was with nothing more then a whisper. “With no price attached, was my step-dad. The day he took me to the orphanage he held me the whole way.”

Pontarious pulled Conner a bit closer, “You said you were seven in human equivalent?”

“Yea.”

Pontarious felt a cold shiver run up his spine, “And you are now twelve. Are you really telling me not adult has given you a hug just because you deserved one in over twelve years?”

“Closer to fifteen. Both Aster and I age more slowly than most Elves do. We think it has something to do with us both having Dark Forest Elf blood inside us. He doesn’t look it now, but he tans like mad over the summer. But I don’t get it. Why would I deserve a hug?”

Pontarious lightly kissed Conner on the side of his head as tears again spilled from the barge captain’s eyes. He could tell, simply by the matter of fact tone the boy spoke in he was telling the truth. The world had indeed been very unfair to this lad. His mind, however, could not come up with anything to say. His heart, however, found words which seemed to fit. Words Pontarious knew he would have to work hard to get the boy next to him to believe. “Because you are a great kid.”

 

Glaster entered the Green Goblin late and looked around. For a moment he thought his chance to get to know Jory had slipped through his fingers, but the boy saw him from a back table and waved him over.

A huge smile spread over Glaster’s face as he made his way over to the boy and the man next to him. His smile faded away as he saw the look in both their eyes. “I am sorry I am late.”

Jory got up, “Sir, I would like you to talk to Klent before we eat. Please listen to him then I will join you for dinner in about an hour or so.”

A deep frown played across Glaster’s face. But the fact the boy took a moment to lightly rub his shoulders gave him pause. Glaster watched the boy head over to the dartboard and put down some copper so he could hold a place. “OK, so what exactly is going on, umm, Klent?”

Klent could feel his knees shaking as he looked across the table at someone he knew to be a Master Echelon Shaman, “Yes master.”

Glaster held up his hand, “Call me sir or commander. Do not use my rank.”

Klent breathed a great deal easier. “I am glad you already know you are in danger.”

Glaster felt his pulse quicken. He spun to survey the room.

“Not right now sir.” Klent whispered.

Felling silly Glaster turned back to face the man, “What type of danger do you refer to then?”

Klent took a deep breath. “I need to give you some background information first, if you will allow me to.”

Glaster took a moment to slip into the spirit realm to make sure there were no infiltrators or ears he couldn’t see from the mortal realms before he nodded, “Fine. You seem to be holding all the cards at the moment.”

“Not really.” Klent stated without hesitation. “This is all stuff I have stumbled across over the past couple of weeks. Seeing you, I think I know why I was asked to come down to Everone by the gods, though.”

This really caught Glaster’s interest, “The gods you say?”

“Lunara and Syria would be my guess. Although I feel they may have tricked me just so I could meet you.”

Glaster lifted his hand to stop Klent and to summon a barmaid. When the woman appeared he tossed her a gold coin. “Two pitcher sized mugs of your best Dwarven Brew and to keep the tables around us clear so we can make this business deal without hearing drunken idiots around us. You do a good enough job and there will be another just like it after we finish.”

The woman reacted instantly to put chairs up on all three surrounding tables before running to get the drinks.

“Once we both have a brew in front of us to calm our nerves I will be more than happy to listen for as long as you care to speak.”

Klent waited and took a healthy gulp of the thick rich brew before he started from the beginning, or at least what he thought may have been the beginning of his sudden and unexpected trip to head down to Everone. He told Glaster of the day the Hawkling from the Junsac Watch next to destroyed the Ghoul Drool and how he had briefly befriended a very cute boy. Then only days later the strange dream in the middle of the storm followed by the complete rout of Gambra’s forces attempting to take the caravan.

He went on to explain how he used failure and the death of so many to build his own small mercenary group for the purpose of helping the boy he had fallen in love with over the course of a few hours of throwing daggers. Klent took another sip, “Then today we pulled in here and I ran right into you and the boy. It was then I knew I had to talk to you.”

“The boy? What boy?”

“The boy Gambra had paid well over 100 beings 50 silver each to grab.”

Glaster shook his head, “I am sorry, my caravan never went though such a fight. You must have the wrong person.”

“Do I?” Klent shook his head and slid the picture across to Glaster, “I don’t think so sir.”

Glaster took one look at it and felt blood run out of his face. It was in color, probably magically created, and there was no question he was looking at the Prince.

Klent didn’t wait for Glaster to recover. “Some of those I hired were part of the raid, sir. They each got one of those. I got it from my second. He said those who died in the failed attack or dropped unconscious caused his or her painting of the boy burst into flame. Many others burned theirs when they got back to the Drool.”

Glaster glared at Klent, “How could you travel with such men?”

"I was told to find my kind of people. Those who are with me are. We are all Lockmasters or Sect Warriors, even Jory. I figured the gods had opened the door for me to recruit them by killing off the worst while leaving me the desperate and those who only saw easy money. Lidevar, my second, is a good man who was working for a couple of real cutthroats who paid well. The others are younger and even less experienced, although after everything I heard and saw after they come into the Drool, they learned a lifetime in just over an hour of their lives.

“I talked to all of them after Jory got tested, and to a man, they all agreed I should come see you. Lidevar even recommended I offer to let them all face a Mind Master scan as to their desire to see Gambra fail in grabbing your charge.”

Glaster leaned back in his chair, “You say you are looking for work?”

“Yes sir.”

“I will make you a deal.”

“Listening.”

Glaster grinned, “I will hire your group to help protect the caravan and the boys in it once all of your men pass a Mind Master scan from my Mind Master. Any who fail, however, I will kill on the spot with no mercy.”

Klent nodded slowly, “Anyone who would hand a boy over to Gambra deserves no less. Should one of them have such thoughts I will hold him while you stick the dagger in his heart.”

“Then I think we have a deal. We will work out payment amounts once all of your troop has passed my Mind Master’s scan.”

Klent took in a deep breath of air; “This was a great deal more pleasant than I thought it would be.”

Glaster grinned, “You and I had the same dream, only a different boy.”

Klent brightened, “So do you think I will find the lad I came all this way for down in Everone?”

“To be honest, I have no clue. But with any luck, we will both find our boys safe and sound. Now why not invite Jory back over here so we can have a good meal.”

“He likes to be paid for his services.” Klent stated bluntly. “But he is very good in bed and will do whatever you want except allow you to torture him with anything capable of leaving permanent marks.”

“Then his pouch will be heavier in the morning.” Glaster signed with a growing lump in his loincloth.

 

Saslara looked at Kandric as the two pulled back from Bloody Rock and hooked back up with Rylop. “I think you are wrong. Those Dragonlings were just a fluke. All we saw was a couple of Hobs down in the lowest mine shaft. I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t bring the kids in and let them get some combat.”

Rylop sighed, “Good. I have never seen a live Dragonling before let alone fought one.”

Kandric wanted to tell them about what he knew. He also wanted to go find Vondum, and even Monarch. But to tell someone about Monarch’s enemy Bandurlok, would be giving too much information out about what was gong on, and he wanted the Swamp Slums to have a trading fortress with his name on the ownership papers.

Kandric even saw how he might be able to move his newly created business with the kids in the jail into the center stockade to make even more money. “Yea, maybe your right, but I still do not like the feel of this. Maybe we should at least wait till first light then take another look.”

“You’ll have your force back by the time we get down there cause the moon will be up before we can hit them and we have to go underground so day or night makes no difference. So why wait?” Saslara argued.

Kandric struggled to come up with a good reason, “Because they could all use a rest and if we wait till morning we can see if there are any new guards out.”

“My students have been resting for a couple of hours now at a cold camp and I don’t like the idea of them staying in a cold camp all night being as cold as it still is. Those kids need a fire and warm food. Besides if the Hobs find dead bodies out there they will beef up their defenses. Remember, you may be a teacher, but they are my students. Unless you have a better reason I say we hit the Hobs now!”

Kandric almost told the woman about Bandurlok, but stopped. The new fortress in the Swamp Slums was just too important to him to possibly make Monarch think of withdrawing the offer. He was an Illorc after all and they had been the ones behind the attack on Jamon and Conth’s caravan. There was no way Kandric could ever completely trust the beast.

“You are the boss Teacher Saslara. How do you want to do this? I have never worked with a group of students on something like this before.”

Saslara grinned as she saw a glimpse of boy still inside of Kandric. “I will take the lead. You and Zeltoss watch the middle and move up to support as necessary, but I still want Zeltoss getting some hard combat in. I really want to see what your time spent with him and the other did for all of them. Finally Rylop and Londow can stay in the rear in case we need to pull out.”

Kandric felt a bit better knowing someone was going to hold the back and provide for an escape. He hoped it would be enough, but deep inside he kind of doubted it.

He hung back with Zeltoss as Saslara gathered up the students. Still he listened as Saslara outlined the plan of attack and finally admitted to all of the students Zeltoss was not a Swordsman, but instead a fully trained Mystic who would stick with Kandric and provide help if anyone got in over their heads.

Saslara then turned to look harshly over the assembled students, "You have all gotten to know this Kandric as a teacher, but understand that he is somewhat against us going in there. He will not be able to do some of the Shaman stuff he normally would because the iron inside Bloody Rock bothers his Elvish blood when he is in the spirit realm, so he could not scout out as much as he would have liked.

"Because of this I am going to have our School Healthman stay here in case you get injured and need to fall back. This is not permission to run from a fight, this is only a fallback camp.

“Furthermore, he has expressed some doubt as to all of your abilities to do the job at hand. Do me a huge favor and show him his fears are unfounded and show me the desire to be real Swordsmen. But if he turns out to be correct, fall back. If I fall Kandric is in command, and if both of us fall the command switches to Rylop, then Londow and finally Zeltoss. If separated in any fight those are your leaders and you do what they tell you no matter what. Anyone who does not do so I will personally lock in the Slome stocks for no less then three days. Is this understood?”

All of the students exchanged looks before nodding.

Saslara then turned to Kandric. “Is there anything you wish to add?”

Kandric took a deep breath, “Yes.” He stepped forward. “What Teacher Saslara told you is correct. Do not take this to mean I do not trust you. Look around and see your fellow friends and students and remember in any fight you go into with those around you your life rests in their hands and their lives rest in yours. Strive to not let anyone around you down.”

Kandric then turned to Saslara, “One question for you Teacher. If they become separated and surrounded what are your views on surrender.”

Saslara nodded and stepped up again, “Excellent question Teacher Kandric.” She made sure all of her students were looking at her before she let out a deep breath that could be seen in the cold evening air. "Hobs will take captives most of the time. If you drop your weapons and hold up your hands there is a better than even chance they will not kill you. However, this means they will be taking you as a captive and there is no telling what will happen then, but chances are they will keep you as a slave.

“The choice to surrender is yours and yours alone. If we think any student has been captured we will try to get you back, but there are no guarantees. If you drop your weapon you better be prepared to be a slave, but at least you will be alive.”

Saslara then smiled, “But it will be us taking the captives this night!”

The class let out a huge cheer as they grabbed their gear and followed Saslara toward Bloody Rock.

Kandric looked over at Zeltoss, “Keep close and remember there is raw iron everywhere. Do not scratch no matter how bad you may want to. Both of us, along with a couple of the other Elves will be taking a very cold swim in the stream the second we get out of there. If we happen to penetrate deep in the hillside and find a stream take the few minutes to wash right there.”

“OK, any other advice?”

“Yea.” Kandric muttered, “Be ready for the fight of your life.”

Zeltoss frowned, “I don’t get it. You talked about taking on a Dragonling like I would talk about squashing a Death Ant, but you really seem worried about this.”

“I am.” Kandric stated as he moved out to keep pace with the students.

As the dark shape of Bloody Rock took shape in the late evening gloom, Londow moved up, “Kandric, I ain’t know ya long, but ya look out of sorts. Ya may not agree with Teacher Saslara, but every student out here be looking to ya fer strength and support. They see ya as one of their teachers, and you ain’t givin’ em hope.”

Kandric chewed on his lip, “I’m not used to anyone looking my way for much of anything.”

“We do.” Londow stated. “Even Rylop and me. Yer our spell support and a teacher ta boot. Ya got ta snap out of this and perk up these kids before they start wonderin’ ’bout what’s gunna happen!”

Kandric glanced at Zeltoss and got a nod. He sighed. “Like what?”

“Be a teacher, just like you were in the pit with us.” Zeltoss replied before Londow could answer.

Kandric nodded. “You are right.” He quickly cast the last of his excess force, first on his scraped elbow then made the rounds to take care of anyone who had a bump or bruise. He wanted everyone as healthy as possible. He used this as an excuse to adjust a few packs, make sure arrows and bolts could easily be reached, and backup weapons were not too difficult to grab. Only a few minutes passed before the moon came up and he felt his force replenish. He sighed audibly as he checked those right behind Saslara.

Saslara smiled as Kandric made his way up to her. “Nice way of letting all of them know you ain’t abandoned us. That sort of attitude is one you can’t allow as a teacher.”

“Thank Londow. I did not realize I could have an effect one way or the other.”

“Kandric, most of those kids behind me may be older than you, at least in Human Equivalent years, but only half of them have seen real combat, and those who have helped me raid a tiny Kobald camp Rylop and Londow found before all the trouble started. Every one of them fears a single Hob. Their fear ain’t bein’ helped when the most powerful spell caster they have ever seen acts like the world is about to fall out from under him. A teacher rubs off on students regardless of whether he wants to or not. You ain’t a kid to anyone here even if you want to be one and throw a temper tantrum like a spoiled brat.”

Kandric cringed under the words. “Have I really been that bad?”

“Yea.” Saslara snickered, “you have.”

Kandric’s shoulders slumped some. “My Teacher would kick my butt if he heard about this.”

"Then maybe you ought to think about what you sound like when you tell others it is no big deal when you single handedly take out a Dragonling and a Demon. Bragging is really quite stupid when you are this damned good. Then, to turn around and pout when I overruled you, was really pathetic.

“I know you are still a kid, but if you need to be a kid take Zeltoss and go fishing or find some hot springs and go for a swim. Get in a snowball fight while dropping your inner magic so you can have fun on equal terms with kids you age. Just don’t pull what you did earlier today. I seriously thought about slapping your face in front of all of these kids.”

Kandric gulped, “Maybe you should have.”

Saslara snickered, “Don’t do it again or I just might.” She paused and patted Kandric on the back. “You have to be careful son. Every kid your age needs to be put in his or her place now and again. Normally this is not a big deal because there are parents, teachers and even an old guy walking down the street with a cane who can put them in line. However, there are not many who can do the same for you unless you give them the power to do so. Maybe you should consider finding a few older adults you do trust who you do give such power to.”

Kandric felt like a kid being sent to his room. As he looked back over the last few weeks he realized everything the woman said was true. He was becoming more like the people he didn’t like and less like the people he did. He wondered what Master Lannet down at Protector’s Keep would think. He half winced knowing the Master Echelon Dwarf’s cane would probably have been used on his backside by now. “You are right, but I do not relish the idea of what they would have done to me by now.”

“My point exactly.” The woman smiled for a moment only to fade quickly. She pointed to a flickering light coming from a cave next to the mine they were planned to attack. “Did you see that cave earlier?”

Kandric’s brow wrinkled. “No. I doubt we would see it now if something had not built a fire so close to the mouth. Do you want me to check it out?”

“NO!” Saslara hissed, “There you go again. This is not about you or what you can do.”

Kandric held up his hands, “I just do not want one of your students hurt.”

Saslara frowned, “Kandric, if there is nothing but a group of Hobs in there then the two of us could have probably cleared it out earlier today. A couple of them are going to get hurt, one or two may even die. But you have to give them a chance to learn and you have to stop showing off. There is no need!”

Kandric stood motionless for a few minutes as this information sunk in. It never occurred to him what simply asking to check something like a campfire might appear to those around him. He really was being a “glory hound” as Glaster used to call people who acted like he was. Yet he didn’t even realize it. “I am sorry.” Kandric said sincerely. “I just get so eager…”

“That you step on those around you without even knowing you are doing it.” Saslara finished the statement for him as she took a knee. “Are you willing to learn some teaching tactics from me?”

Kandric knelt next to her, “Absolutely. I suck at this.”

“No, you really don’t son. You did great with the kids in the combat pit. But there you were actually doing something. You are a very hands-on want-to-keep-busy type of kid which is great, but sometimes you have to give orders, sit back, and watch.”

“Show me please.” Kandric whispered in almost a begging tone.

Saslara patted Kandric on the back then turned around, “Zeltoss you’re now a squad leader, pick four others tell us what is in the cave. If it is only a few Hobs take them out!”

Kandric watched nervously as his friend quickly selected four of the younger kids, only one of which was a training step five. The others were only step fours. Kandric frowned, knowing he would have picked better kids, but a squeeze on his shoulder for Saslara reminded him to keep his mouth shut.

The team of five moved up the hill and moved toward the small boulder blocking full view of the cave from prying eyes.

Saslara then formed another team, this one led by Londow, to move up to the mouth of the mine shaft in case any sounds alerted guards deeper inside of Bloody Rock.

Finally she had the rest find cover and pull out bows and slings to support one or both groups as needed.

Sounds of fighting suddenly erupted from the upper cave where Zeltoss had gone. Kandric stood only to be yanked back down by Saslara. “You are a teacher not a babysitter Kandric. None of these kids will learn squat if you come charging to their rescue at the first sound of metal on metal!”

Kandric clenched his fists as he nervously looked up the hill. Only about two minutes passed before two of the students came down carrying a third followed by two others.

He and Saslara quickly moved up to take a look at the injury. Zeltoss hung his head as Saslara pushed the crossbow bolt through the Dwarven girl’s leg, snapped the head, then pulled out the shaft, “We thought there was only three of them, but there was another behind some other rocks. He waited until we took down all three before he fired at us.”

Saslara took the report in stride. “Did he get away?”

The Dwarven girl managed to speak through teeth tightly locked around the stick Saslara had given her to bite on, “Nope. Zeltoss took him down with a mace shot to the back of the head. There be a passage up there goin’ down though. The Hob was tryin’ ta get to it when Zel’s mace popped out one a its eyes.”

Kandric raised an eyebrow as Saslara put some star clover on the wound and bandaged it up, “I had no idea you were a Healthwoman.”

“Only a Primary step four. I started leaning just before I made Teacher, when I realized I may need the skills if I wanted to open my own school, and since my dream was to have my own school, well I spent a year in the Silverton guard in exchange for Healthman training.”

She looked up at Zeltoss, “Nice work. Four of them dead and only one of us lightly wounded. Nice first action as a squad leader kiddo.”

The Dwarf bit down on the stick again, “This is light?”

Saslara patted the girl on the shoulder. “Can you stand and fight if you had to?”

“Yea.”

Kandric couldn’t help himself; he chuckled having had almost the exact same conversation with Glaster after his first real combat wound. “Then it is a light wound.”

Saslara grinned, “You got the speech too huh?”

“Yes ma’am I did.”

Zeltoss looked more than a little confused, “You aren’t mad at me? I blew it!”

“No you didn’t son.” Saslara stated seriously. “You lead a group into battle and did extremely well. Eight of us could have gone in there and the same thing would have probably happened. Did you learn anything?”

“Sure did. I need to fully secure the area before I let my guard down.”

“Good observation.” Saslara glanced back up toward the small cave and looked around again. "Londow, I am going to change things a bit. I would like you to take Betha, here and start us forward staging base up there. We will take the wounded there first. Zeltoss, you keep your squad and grab a replacement plus four others, I want you to go back up there and head in the way you saw the hob going. Kandric I want you with him, but remember what we were talking about.

“I will.” Kandric promised, but his heart really raced as he realized splitting the forces would weaken them if, or more likely when, they met Bandurlok’s main troops. One way or another this was shaping up to be very long night.

Copyright © 2000-2021 Kyle Aarons; All Rights Reserved.
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So many different roads being traveled but they all seem to have one destination...  Klent and Jory are now proving to be more interesting by the moment.

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