A World Apart (28 page)

"That would be nice, Jake, but are you sure you know enough to carry someone else?"  Hailyn asked, looking doubtful.

Jake gave her a shrug and a smile as he first checked, then saddled Dontas and led him down the hall.  Once outside, he swung into the saddle, reached down and pulled Hailyn up behind him.  Once she was on, Jake booted Dontas and took him out to the training grounds.

They rode for close to thirty minutes, talking while circling the training grounds, changing the pace between walking, galloping and a full run.  He was a little distracted by the fact that Hailyn's robe had pulled up as she sat behind him, revealing her booted calves and part of her smooth thighs.  He tried to push that out of his mind.  Jake found that he like riding, enjoying the power and speed as Dontas charged ahead, and especially liked the fact that Hailyn was with him.  After they let him cool down, they took Dontas back to his stable.  They brushed him down, put in feed and water, and locked up the gear.

They made their way to the courtyard, moving at a leisurely pace.  They were making small talk when Jake was suddenly struck by the feeling that someone was watching him.  He was used to the occasional glances by now, but this felt different.  He glanced around, looking at the faces in the usual late afternoon crowd, trying to see anyone looking at him.  While he was scanning the crowd, he caught a glimpse of an older man with white hair staring at him.  Startled, he looked back in that direction, but the man was gone, swallowed by the crowd.  Jake stood looking around, trying to locate the man again.  There was something vaguely familiar about that man, but Jake could not pin down why.

"What is it?"  Hailyn asked, noticing Jake's movements and looking around.

"Nothing."  Jake replied.  "I just had a feeling that someone was watching me."  He shrugged his shoulders.  "It was probably just me imagining things."

...

Martis ducked into a tavern, cursing himself for being that clumsy.  He had arrived at the city yesterday, having driven his team hard.  It had taken him the better part of the day to locate the boy, asking subtle questions, trying to make sure that no one remembered him asking, only to almost give it all away.  The boy saw him, he was sure, but he hoped that he did not recognize his face.  He shivered as he imagined what would happen to him if he was found out.  Of course, that paled in comparison to what he would experience if he failed his mission.  It was not something he wanted to think about.

The tavern was packed, with the tables full of people eating, while the bar area only had a few open spots.  He maneuvered into one of the empty spots, squeezing between a couple of soldiers, and ordered some ale.  He took a large swallow to calm his nerves, taking a second to wipe the foam from his mustache, and looked around, studying the make-up of the crowd.  He noticed a soldier, an officer from his uniform, sitting alone at one of the tables along the back wall, an empty plate in front of him.  Martis made his way over to the table.

"Hello, friend."  He said as he approached.  "May I share your table?  The place is full tonight."  The soldier nodded and gestured to the empty chair.

"My name is Martis Natheris, a merchant by trade."  Martis said as he sat down.  "Can I buy you something to drink to thank you for your kindness?"

"Thank you, but no, friend merchant."  The soldier said.  "I have to report to duty shortly."

"The life of a soldier, duty at all hours."  Martis said, smiling at the soldier.  "May I have your name, friend?"

"Captain Walten Stradford."  The soldier replied, extending his hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Captain."  Martis said, shaking the man's hand.  "What duty do you have that will keep you out at night?  A patrol, perhaps?  I have always thought that had to be an exciting life, riding out, looking for trouble."

"No patrols for me.  I am the night commander for the West Gate."  Stradford said proudly.

"A prestigious command; you ensure the safety of the city."  Martis said, effecting a look of awe.  He could not believe his luck.  "Such responsibility must weigh on someone so young."

"It is a serious command, but it is not as extreme as you make it sound."  Stradford said modestly.

"If you have time, I would like to hear about it."  Martis said as he signaled for a serving girl.  "My father would not let me join the army, preferring me to learn the merchant trade, but I had always wanted to be a soldier."

As Stradford began talking, Martis smiled attentively while his mind was busy calculating his options, as he saw the opening needed to complete one of the tasks he was given.

...

The days began to blur together as Jake threw himself into his training schedule.  As he grew more comfortable around the smithy, Norlan and Helman expanded his tasks, giving him small projects to complete.  Under Helman's, and sometimes Norlan's, close supervision, he joined Dern and Almos working on a forge, banging away at the hot metal, trying to shape it into a something useful.

His training with Dominic remained intense, as he was pressed at every session.  He began to see and feel fewer bruises as he became better at defending against the attacks.  Once he was confident that Jake had his parries down, Dominic began to teach him attacks.  Jake never touched Dominic in their sparring, but Dominic seemed pleased with his progress.

One day, Jake was surprised to see Dominic standing under the trees, as he always did, but this time he was bare-chested, his armor and sword next to the tree.  As Jake joined him, Dominic was wrapping some thick cloth around his hands, his muscles cording as he tightened the cloth.  Dominic gave a slight smile at Jake's confused look.

"There may be times when you don't have your weapons handy."  Dominic said.  "You need to learn to use your hands and feet, as well as a sword, to defend yourself.  Take off your armor and sword and wrap up."  Dominic tossed him some strips of the heavy cloth.

"Are you kidding?"  Jake asked in dismay.  He shook his head; Dominic overmatched him in every way.  "You'll kill me!"

"Don't worry.  I've invested too much time just to kill you off, boy."  Dominic replied, smile fading as he adjusted his wraps.  "Let's go, we are wasting time."

Once Jake was ready, Dominic showed him a variety of punches, kicks and grappling holds.  When Dominic was satisfied that Jake had them down, they began sparring.  Jake was trying his best, unsuccessfully for the most part, to defend himself against Dominic's attacks.  While he was not using his full strength, Dominic did not pull his punches.  Jake was soon feeling like a punching bag, as he had blood trickling from his lips and new bruises to his arms and body.

During a short rest break, Jake noticed that Hailyn had arrived.  He felt a little self-conscious at first as he did not have his shirt on, but that was quickly forgotten when Dominic resumed their sparring.  Tired of defending, he tried to attack, throwing himself at Dominic, trying to get close enough to land a blow, but always having to retreat from Dominic's counters.

Frustrated, he feinted once, backed off, then stepped in to throw a punch.  Unfortunately, Dominic had already began a counter and his fist crashed into Jake's nose, sending him tumbling back onto the ground, blood flying.

Jake landed on his backside, his head ringing, pain radiating from his nose.  He howled in frustration, as much as in pain.  He glared up at Dominic.  "This is bullshit, you know!"

Dominic knelt down, his hands holding Jake's head while his finger ran down Jake's nose, feeling for a break.  "In what way?"  He asked, calm and detached, unaffected by Jake's temper.  Jake gritted his teeth, growling softly as the light pressure made the pain worse.  Dominic pulled an extra cloth from his pants and pressed it against Jake's nose.

"You're bigger and stronger than me.  I don't have a chance."  Jake said through his clenched teeth.

"You expect to always face someone smaller and weaker than you?"  Dominic asked sardonically.  "Should I have the girl take my place, so you can feel you have a better chance?"  He had Jake hold the cloth, waved Hailyn over and stepped back.

Hailyn rushed over to Jake, kneeling and taking his head into her hands.  He felt the warmth and heat of her healing, the heat growing intense at his nose as the pain faded.  Once it was over, he wiped the blood away, thanked Hailyn, standing and helping her up.

Dominic was standing there, arms crossed as usual.  As soon as Jake was standing, he spoke.  "Boy, you need to understand that I'm not training you to get in fistfights with other boys.  I'm trying to teach you to defend your life.  Know that it is not always strength or size that determines who lives; it is who has the strongest will to survive.  You may have to fight on through pain and against tough odds.  If you give up because it is too hard, then you will be dead and the other person will walk away."

"But how can I hope to win if I had to fight someone like you?"  Jake asked, somewhat plaintively.

"You have to find a way; you don't have any other option."  Dominic replied simply.  "A smart fighter knows what he can do and adjusts his strategy to compensate for what he cannot."  He paused for a moment, thinking.  "Take Norlan, for example.  I may have some height and reach on him, but do you think I could out-muscle him if we got tangled up?"  He asked.

"Maybe."  Jake responded.

Dominic gave a short laugh.  "You give me too much credit, boy.  Norlan could probably crush us both with those arms.  If I had to fight him, I would do everything I could not to allow him to get a hold on me.  But let's say he did; knowing that I could not out-muscle him, what do I do?  Give up?"  Dominic face clearly showed what he thought of that.  "The answer is that I would do everything I could to get away or defeat him.  Biting, clawing, kicking, bashing him with a rock, whatever it takes.  Burn this into your brain: in combat, the winner is the one who is not dead."

Dominic started to undo his wraps.  "We're done for the day."  He stated.  "Just think about what I said."

After that first session, despite Jake's pleas to focus on his sword skills, Dominic insisted that they incorporate hand-to-hand training at least once or twice a week.  Jake would only groan each time he arrived at the training area to see Dominic wrapping up his hands, resigned to a painful afternoon.

However, as word spread of their training sessions, they gained an audience beside Hailyn's regular presence.  Small groups of soldiers and trainees started to come over to observe, at first from a distance, gradually getting closer.  At first, Dominic tried to chase them off, but every day another group would show up.  After a lengthy discussion with their officers, he agreed to allow small groups to observe the second half of their training, provided they follow his instructions.

Jake was actually pleased by the extra bodies since Dominic eventually decided to use them as part of the training.  Besides the training swords, he brought out sets of leather vambraces and some padded leather helmets with metal faceguards that extended to protect the throat.  He began to call the trainees over to spar with Jake to give him an opportunity to fight with others around his skill level.  Dominic kept a close eye on these contests, evaluating Jake after every session, while giving his observations to Jake's opponents as well.  Jake was pleased to find out that he was able to hold his own, actually winning more sessions than he lost.

Jake's horsemanship also continued to improve.  Armartas, once he was satisfied that Jake was competent on horseback, began to train Jake on horseback fighting techniques.  Jake was introduced to additional weapons besides his sword, including the spear and mace.  The spear training turned out to be Jake's least favorite.  Trying to throw it while riding was tough enough, but when Armartas had him use it as a lance, he came out of the saddle on more than a few occasions, until he learned to release it correctly.  When he did not go out on patrol, Dominic would saddle Shadow and join these sessions.

As often as he could, Jake would saddle Dontas and just ride for pleasure.  After talking with Armartas and Dominic, he was given permission to go into the city on these rides.  Luckily, Hailyn would often join him for these excursions.  He enjoyed having her along, both as a guide and a friend to talk to.  They began to explore areas of the city where he had never gone.

One day, they rode into the Perfume Quarter where Jake quickly found out why it was called that.  With the various perfume and soap merchants and manufacturers, there was an overwhelming mix of floral, musky and earthy smells that filled the air.

He and Hailyn went into a few shops, Jake thinking to get Madalin something to thank her for everything she has done for him.  With Hailyn's help, he bought a finely engraved bottle of perfume and had it wrapped up in a brightly colored box.  She assured him that it was a popular scent and Madalin would love it.

When he gave it to Madalin after dinner that night, it turned out that Hailyn was right.  When Madalin opened the box and took out the bottle, Jake could see the surprise and delight in her eyes.

"It's such a fine gift, Jake."  Madalin said, turning the bottle over in her hands.  "Thank you, but I'm not sure what I have done to deserve this."

"Are you kidding me?!"  Jake exclaimed.  "You, along with Norlan and Cherise, have given me, a complete stranger, a place to stay, fed and clothed me and made me part of your family.  Barrels of that perfume couldn't begin to repay you for all of the kindness you have shown me."

Madalin did not say anything, but Jake could see that she had tears in her eyes.  She simply came over to Jake and pulled him into a strong embrace.  Glancing over her shoulder, Jake could see Norlan looking at him; he gave Jake a smile and nod of his head as if to say "That was just the right thing to say."

...

"Jake."

Jake was so focused on his work project that he missed Norlan calling his name.  He was at the smithy, pounding away at the heated metal of what he hoped would eventually be a passable shovel head.  He really wanted to show Norlan that he had retained the lessons from the last several weeks.  He was trying to finish a section before he had to set it aside for lunch, while keeping even and steady strokes of his hammer, as Helman had instructed him.