The Sword of Truth tgc-1 Page 10

  Kaylia smiled slightly and said, “That’s good. Think about what you did wrong. See it in your mind-each motion, every shift on your feet. Remember the feeling in your muscles. Feel the sensation when you lost your balance. What brought you to that point? When did you lose control? Most importantly, how could you have stopped it?”

  Gewey look at Kaylia. His face was stone with concentration. “I can see it now,” he said. “Why can’t I see it while it’s happening?”

  “You will in time,” Kaylia replied, then handed him a flask.

  “Drink this.”

  “What’s in it?” he asked, eying the flask suspiciously.

  “Jawas tea,” she answered.

  “Are you crazy?” Gewey asked sharply, handing it back.

  Kaylia refused to take it, shaking her head. “Jawas tea has a strong effect on humans, but as you are not exactly human, you should be able to withstand its negative effects. If you can, you will find that it has amazing qualities.”

  “But it put me out cold the last time,” Gewey protested.

  “And you must prevent that,” she replied. “But this time I want you to feel it inside you and stop it from taking control. You are not to fail, understand?”

  “I’ll try,” said Gewey said, warily opening the flask.

  “No,” Kaylia said sternly. “I said you are not to fail.”

  Gewey nodded and put the flask to his lips, and the cold liquid poured down his throat. He could feel the effects set in immediately, but this time he was ready for it. He fought to keep his eyes open and retain feeling in his limbs, but after a few seconds, he knew it was a losing the battle.

  “Don’t think about the way you feel,” whispered Kaylia-or at least, it sounded like a whisper as his head swam. “Think about your body as a whole. Command it. You are in control. You will not allow it to win.”

  For a moment, Gewey felt his strength return, but it was short lived. Eventually the jawas tea took over and he lost consciousness. He slumped down in his seat, and Kaylia reached over and slid his body into the corner.

  When he woke, it was already dark, and the wagon had stopped. Gewey crawled out and knelt down, groggily. Millet, Kaylia, and Lee were already eating.

  “I guess we’ll get a late start,” said Kaylia, setting down her bowl.

  She had removed her pilgrim’s robes and donned her shirt and trousers. She pulled out a small knife and threw it with a flick of her wrist. The knife stuck in the ground less than an inch from Gewey’s foot. “You’ll need that,” she said.

  Kaylia led Gewey into the forest. The moon was out, providing the only source of light. Gewey’s heartbeat quickened the further they walked. He began to wonder when the training would start, and then suddenly he noticed-he was alone.

  “Kaylia,” he called nervously, but there was no answer.

  Gewey strained his eyes, hoping to catch sight of some movement or shadow. But the night played tricks. He began to see things in the shadows that weren’t there; shapes he thought might be Kaylia turned out to be nothing more than a bush or a stump.

  “The night can be a weapon, young one,” Kaylia’s voice whispered from the darkness, seemingly from everywhere. “It plants fear in the heart of your enemies. It is a cloak and a dagger. It can serve you well until you are ready to strike.”

  In the blink of an eye, Kaylia was behind him, her knife at his throat. “You’re dead,” she said, then lowered the knife. “You must learn to see through the curtain of darkness and use your foe’s ignorance against him.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Gewey.

  “Of course you don’t. We elves spend our lives moving in the shadows. Not even your half-man friend can match me in the dark. An elf can put an arrow through the eye of a buck from two hundred paces in total darkness. Take out your knife. It’s time you learned to defend yourself.”

  “I’ve never fought with a knife,” said Gewey.

  “I guessed,” Kaylia replied sarcastically. Then, in the blink of an eye she was on him, her blade slashing through the air like lightning.

  Gewey felt the cold blade across the back of his hand. He dropped his weapon, clutching his hand and cursing loudly.

  “You are uninjured,” Kaylia said. Gewey looked at his hand. There was no blood.

  “My blade is dull,” she explained. “For now. Were you an elf, you would not be so fortunate.”

  “I don’t want special treatment,” he complained. “I can take it.”

  “Just like you were able to take the jawas tea.” she scoffed. “No, I think you need to learn more before your real training begins.”

  Gewey sulked as he bent down to pick up his knife, but he didn’t say a word.

  For the rest of the lesson, Kaylia instructed Gewey in the basics of knife fighting. Gewey felt it was a bit too basic, but he did as he was told.

  “You move like a drunken ox,” she observed when they were finished.

  “It’s my first time,” said Gewey. “Besides, all I did was thrust and slash at nothing for close to an hour.”

  “And when you do so with purpose, we’ll move on,” she answered.

  “I hope you show more enthusiasm when the half-man trains you.” Gewey felt angry and embarrassed.

  “Can you find your way back to camp?” asked Kaylia.

  “Yes,” Gewey lied.

  “Good,” she said, vanishing into the woods.

  It took Gewey more than an hour to find his way back to camp.

  Lee and Kaylia were talking quietly near the wagon, and Millet was sitting by the fire, poking it with a stick. Gewey walked over and sat across from Millet, his face twisted in anger.

  “What’s wrong, young master?” asked Millet. “You look upset.”

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” said Gewey. “I thought I’d do so much better, but so far, I’ve failed at everything.”

  Millet chucked.

  “What’s so funny?” barked Gewey.

  “Nothing lad,” said Millet. “I just remember Lord Starfinder speaking similar words a long time ago.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” said Gewey. He tossed a twig into the fire.

  “I’m doing no such thing. I’m telling you the truth. When Lord Starfinder came home after his first day of training, he was quite literally in tears. In fact, he didn’t go back for a week; I had to convince him.”

  The thought of Lee pouting and crying made Gewey smile.

  “Don’t take too much pleasure from that,” scolded Millet. “He wasn’t hardened by years of farm work, and he is only half of what you are, if you catch my meaning. Yet look at him now: hard, strong and skilled beyond anything you could imagine.”

  Gewey glanced over at Lee and thought about the fight with the bandits. He had never seen anyone move so fast. ‘He must really be holding back with me,’ he thought.

  “You’ve been with Lee for a long time, yet I notice you still call him ‘lord”,” Gewey observed.

  “Of course I do,” said Millet, surprised. “He is my friend, yes; but he’s also my lord and master. My family has served the house Nal’Thain for generations, and I would not dishonor them by treating the master of the house with over-familiarity. We are friends, and my love for him goes beyond that of servant and lord, but I can never let that distract me from my duty.”

  Gewey looked puzzled. “But he’s not really a Nal’Thain. He told me he started as Dauvis Nal’Thain’s servant.”

  “He told you correctly,” said Millet. “I remember when he arrived. I was very jealous that he was picked to serve the master of the house and I was not. But after a time we became friends, and when he rose to be the master, I became his personal assistant.”

  “What did you call him before he was made a lord?” asked Gewey.

  “By his name, of course,” Millet answered. “But enough about that.” Millet got to his feet and went over to his blanket. “You need to eat and rest.”

  “Thank you, Mill
et,” Gewey said gratefully. “Thank you for the talk. I feel better.”

  “I’m happy to hear it,” said Millet as he lay down.

  Gewey went to sleep that night feeling determined. He would not fail, and he would not give up.

  For the next few days, Gewey trained harder and harder. On three occasions he nearly threw Lee to the ground, once he managed to find Kaylia in the shadows, and he even learned to stay awake after drinking jawas tea-though just barely. Neither Lee nor Kaylia openly showed that they were pleased, but Gewey could tell they were, and it filled him with pride.

  As they neared Kaltinor, Gewey noticed the landscape changing. The forest became thinner, and the road was crisscrossed with little streams spanned with wooden bridges, some in desperate need of repair. They passed farms more frequently, but many looked abandoned, their fields untended and grown over with weeds. The air was becoming colder each day, and the sun rarely peeked out from the overcast sky.

  “What’s happened here?” Gewey asked Lee the day before they were to arrive in Kaltinor.

  “The Dark Knight,” answered Lee. “As his power grows, you’ll see more of this. Even more reason for us to hurry. He’ll bring a hard winter, and bring it early.”

  “I wish I knew where we’re going,” said Gewey.

  “If I could tell you, I would,” Lee assured. “But there is still a danger that the Dark Knight could enter your mind, and we’ve had to stop your mental training in favor of more practical things. If we did both, you’d collapse from exhaustion and we need you strong.”

  “This may not be a problem,” interjected Kaylia. “One of the benefits of jawas tea is that it strengthens an elf’s mental abilities.

  Even the strongest mind could not enter uninvited. Though Gewey is not an elf there is a chance it may give him the same advantage.”

  Lee raised an eyebrow. “Really? I had no idea jawas had that power.”

  Kaylia smirked. “There’s much I know that you don’t, half-man,” she said.

  “Perhaps,” said Lee. “Still, I will test if it’s effective.”

  That night after Gewey finished his training with Kaylia, Lee beckoned him over. They repeated the exercise Lee had taught him, except this time Lee told Gewey not to try and keep the gate of his mind closed. Much to his amazement, Lee found himself completely unable to enter Gewey’s mind; the jawas tea seemed to work exactly as Kaylia had claimed it would.

  “How long is it effective?” Lee asked Kaylia, who was standing nearby.

  “One dose will last for at least two days,” Kaylia answered. “But more importantly, it builds in your system. Among my people there are those that can journey inside the mind of another. We use jawas to strengthen that ability.”

  “But from what I’ve just seen, it would block minds-not make it easier to enter them,” said Lee.

  Kaylia’s mouth twisted in disgust. “If your intention is to invade a mind you’re right, jawas prevents this from happening. But we do not enter uninvited as you might. With jawas, we can touch the thoughts of another with greater ease and also at greater distance.”

  “That could prove quite useful,” said Lee, stroking his chin. “How much do you have?”

  “Enough to last many weeks,” she answered. “At least six, I should think.”

  “Is it hard to find?”

  “Not in this area,” Kaylia replied. “I shall gather more for the journey while I wait for you to leave the city.”

  “You’ll be coming with us into Kaltinor,” Lee said flatly. “It’s very important we gather information before we continue further west. The Dark Knight’s power grows, and we need to know what lies ahead. This may take a few days, and I might need you with me.”

  Kaylia looked concerned. “And what if I’m discovered? That could prove to be a problem.”

  “You won’t be discovered,” said Lee. “I have friends in Kaltinor that can hide you if need be, but I don’t think it will come to that. We’ll be staying in the Temple of Ayliazarah, so you can stay silent and hooded the entire time-like a good little pilgrim.”

  It was obvious Lee was trying to get under Kaylia’s skin. The two were constantly throwing thinly veiled insults at one another. This time, Lee had the advantage. Kaylia couldn’t hide the fact that the idea of staying in a temple of one of the gods made her uncomfortable.

  “I will bow and stay silent,” she seethed, “but if you think I will pretend to worship…”

  Lee doubled over with laughter, further fueling Kaylia’s anger.

  “Calm yourself, elf,” he said, grinning widely. “Pilgrims do not usually pray until they reach their destination.”

  This did little to calm Kaylia down. With her teeth clenched and back straight, she turned and strode off into the night. When she returned, she moved her blanket far away from the others.

  The next day, Gewey noticed more travelers along the road.

  Kaylia took special care to remain unseen, despite the fact that her hood completely covered her features. As they rode on past midday, the sheer volume of traffic told Gewey that the city was near.

  The farms they passed were no longer abandoned, though the fields were empty from the harvest. Along the way, they were stopped by a man driving a wagon loaded with bricks and masonry tools. Thinking them pilgrims from the east, he asked for news. Lee told him that times were dark and getting darker; the man replied that it was the same here, and moved on unhappily. This darkened Lee’s mood, and he hardly spoke for hours.

  “I guess our ruse will be put to the test,” Millet said as the sun began to go down.

  Gewey leaned forward and saw an encampment ahead. “Who are they?”

  “That, my boy, is a group of real monks,” Lee answered. “I can see ten of them from here.”

  “Do we have to stop?” Gewey asked, nervously.

  “If we don’t, they’ll wonder why,” Lee responded. “Besides, if we can’t fool them, there’s no way we’ll fool the temple.”

  Lee pulled off the road to the edge of the encampment. A tall, hooded monk walked up to the wagon next to Millet.

  “Welcome brothers…and sister,” he said, noticing Kaylia’s hooded figure in the back. Even through the robes it was impossible to hide her feminine shape. “I’m Brother Salvo. Please take your ease with us. We have plenty to share.”

  “Thank you, Brother,” said Millet, taking the lead. “We will be pleased and grateful to share your fire. I’m Brother Milton, this is Brother Leston,” he said, pointing at Lee. “And in the wagon are Brother Gewton and Sister Kaymaya.”

  Millet stepped from the wagon and stood in front of the man.

  After exchanging a few words, Millet told the rest to climb down and see to the horses and gear. Lee jumped down while Kaylia and Gewey climbed from the back. Gewey was confused by the sudden role reversal, but Lee acted as if following Millet’s orders was second nature.

  The encampment was a beehive of activity as the monks and pilgrims prepared supper. No one spoke to them at first, which pleased Gewey. Kaylia was doing everything she could not to get too close to anyone, but eventually Lee leaned over and whispered in her ear. Gewey saw her nod, then walk over and offer assistance to several monks who were preparing bedding for the group.

  “This is not a time to avoid contact,” Lee whispered to Gewey as he passed. “That would be noticed.”

  Gewey wondered how Kaylia would avoid giving herself away, but no one gave her a second look. Luckily, she was not the only female pilgrim in camp, and Gewey observed that the other women hardly ever removed their hoods or spoke. It seemed as though their ruse was intact, at least for now. By nightfall, several other groups had arrived at Brother Salvo’s encampment; by the time dinner was served, their number reached about thirty. Millet and the others gathered near the wagon to eat and talk privately.

  “A dangerous game,” Kaylia grumbled under her breath.

  “But necessary,” Lee insisted.

  “I agree,” said Millet. “This
is a good chance to test our deception.”

  Kaylia clearly didn’t think so. “You had me working openly with these…monks. If one of these oafs had bumped into me and discovered my identity, what then?”

  “I’m counting on your elf dexterity to prevent that,” Lee replied. “If you had not behaved as a pilgrim should, it could have put us in danger. And please, don’t call them oafs. Men and women like these here do nothing but good works. Their lives are dedicated to it.”

  Just then, Gewey saw the figure of Brother Salvo approaching.

  “Brother Milton,” called the tall monk.

  Millet stood and bowed low. “I thank you for sharing your meal,” he said. “As do my companions.” Gewey, Lee, and Kaylia bowed their heads in turn.

  “We’re happy to have you among us,” said Brother Salvo.

  “Pilgrims on the road have become more and more rare these days. It’s good to see those willing to make the journey of faith.

  May I sit with you?”

  “Of course,” said Millet, offering his blanket. Millet sat next to Kaylia so that he could face Brother Salvo directly.

  “Where do you come from?” Salvo asked.

  “We are from the Temple of Ayliazarah in the eastern kingdom of Palinsali,” answered Millet. “We’re on our way to the Temple of the Far Sky.”

  “Ahhh,” said Salvo. “Servants of sacred love. We haven’t seen many in these parts for some time. You have a long journey ahead. The Temple of the Far Sky is many weeks from here.”

  “All the more reason to thank you for your hospitality,” Millet said graciously.

  Brother Salvo pushed back his hood. He was older than he sounded, yet he was still quite handsome. The years showed in his eyes, but his blond hair and squared features suggested the type of maturity that Gewey had heard the women of Sharpstone speak of with admiration and desire. His skin had a golden hue that could only have been the result of years of hard work in the sun.

  “You won’t find much generosity beyond this point,” Brother

  Salvo lamented. “The world is being consumed by darkness. All the news we get here is filled with sadness.”