Read Artesans of Albia: 01 - King's Envoy Online

Authors: Cas Peace

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Action & Adventure, #King’s Envoy: Artesans of Albia

Artesans of Albia: 01 - King's Envoy (19 page)

BOOK: Artesans of Albia: 01 - King's Envoy
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Taran finished the final test. As Robin nodded approval, he released the Earth power he had called in order to form the largest portway he could make and the element drained from his psyche. Taran nearly sagged; the effort had left him perspiring.

 

He heard Bull say, “Well done, lads,” but his attention wasn’t on the big man.

 

The look in Robin’s eyes told Taran someone was standing behind him.

 
Chapter Eleven
 

Taran turned around to see that Major Sullyan had entered the arena. His heart lurched at the sight of her.

The afternoon sun in her glorious hair had transformed her from the frail-looking creature of the day before. Pristine combat leathers accentuated her slender neatness, and a steel blade was belted at her right hip. Her double-thunderflash rank insignia and battle honors gleamed above her left breast. Her golden eyes shone with health and her smooth skin radiated a faint amber bloom.

 

Taran stared in stunned admiration, the rapid thump of his heart unconnected to his earlier exertions. He knew with a certainty rooted deep in his soul that he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

 

Gracefully, she moved toward Robin, showing no trace of a limp. Placing her hand on the Captain’s arm, she smiled up at him.

 

“That was well done, Robin. Now tell me what you learned.”

 

The Captain turned to face Taran. “He’s been well trained but there are gaps in his knowledge, as you thought,” he said. “He builds a strong portway but his psyche is weak in places and his control is not absolute, as it should be. He also suppresses his emotions instead of using them.”

 

This casual assessment irritated Taran but he couldn’t deny that while he felt exhausted, Robin showed no sign of physical effort.

 

The Major was regarding him. “And his offensive skills?”

 

“We haven’t got to combat yet,” said Robin, “I thought he’d appreciate a rest first. We can begin now, if you like.”

 

“No,” she said, still gazing at Taran, “permit me.”

 

“Major,” the Captain protested, “there’s no need to exert yourself. That’s what I’m here for.”

 

“Peace, Robin. It has been a while since I had to exercise such control. It will be good for me. Besides, I am curious.”

 

Unbuckling her sword belt, she laid the weapon on a bench before inviting Taran to precede her into the center of the arena. “Are you ready, Journeyman? I promise not to overtax you. I am not at full strength yet.”

 

Taran nodded, although he felt apprehensive. He moved to the center of the grassy space and turned to face the Major. He raised his mental shield.

 

With a light laugh, she said, “Start with offense, Journeyman. Cast me an Earth ball and do not withhold your strength. You will not harm me.”

 

Stung by this casual dismissal of his powers, his face reddened. But she didn’t comment, merely watched as he shaped a powerful ball of Earth force. He did his best, and when it was formed he threw it at her with no warning. Had it reached her, it could have knocked her from her feet, but she batted it almost playfully away and watched it dissolve.

 

“That was clumsy, Journeyman,” she said, smiling slightly. “I am sure you can do better.”

 

He tried again and so began one of the most exhausting afternoons of his life.

 

The Major put him through every one of his small store of offensive maneuvers, effortlessly countering each one. She showed him how to improve some of his weaker attempts and then had him try again. She warned him to raise his shield and, despite her promise not to overtax him, the effort of defending himself from her attacks soon drove him to his knees. He heard Cal give a cry of protest. He kneeled, panting on the grass as Sullyan approached him.

 

“Enough,” she said gently. She helped him rise and guided him back to the benches, where he sat with his chest heaving and his head hammering, feeling like he had been run over by a coach and six.

 

To his amazement she said, “You have much talent and strength for a Journeyman, but you need more training. Robin was right, you have far too tight a rein on your emotions.”

 

He looked at her in puzzlement and she smiled.

 

“You must accept them and use them, Taran Elijah, not seek to override them. You cannot grow and develop until you realize the power of your passions. You have much potential, for you are a very passionate man. But you have been fortunate to survive the Veils by yourself, my friend. I would advise you not to brave them again without further instruction.”

 

He sat in silence, trying process the Major’s words. With the cloth Rienne gave him, he mopped his streaming face. Slowly, his breathing calmed.

 

He realized that Robin was standing with his arms folded, a stern look on his handsome face. However, it seemed that Taran was not the object of the Captain’s disapproval.

 

“Why did you do that?” he said, glaring at Sullyan. “I am perfectly capable.”

 

She shot him a look of warning but he ignored her.

 

“It was a waste of your strength,” he added. “Why overtax yourself unnecessarily?”

 

She reacted archly. “Are you questioning my judgment, Captain?”

 

Taran frowned; it seemed that Robin was deliberately goading her.

 

“I just don’t think it was wise after what happened last week, that’s all. You did say you weren’t at full strength.”

 

Taran could see the Major’s startling eyes had narrowed, and he could feel irritation emanating from her. He could feel something else, too, and suddenly wondered why Bull was watching them so intently.

 

“Very well, Captain,” said Sullyan. “Shall we see if my strength has returned?”

 

She moved back out into the arena and Taran just caught the fleeting smile on Robin’s face. The Captain’s eyes were fixed on Sullyan as he said, “Are you sure, Major? I don’t want to tire you.”

 

Taran heard a faint chuckle beside him and he raised his brows at Bull.

 

“Now you’ll see something,” murmured the big man. “Just watch.”

 

Taran turned his attention back to the arena just in time to see the Major throw a Fireball at Robin’s head. He gasped. The young man barely dodged it and the Fireball hit the grass, sparks flying into the air.

 

Taran stared in admiration. As a Journeyman, he couldn’t even influence Fire yet, let alone manipulate it. Neither had he sensed Sullyan form the Fireball, which was controlled so exquisitely the sparks didn’t even scorch the grass.

 

“Not good enough, Captain,” she called, “I believe I taught you better than that. Remember, evasion will not suffice for the test.”

 

She tossed him another, which he managed to counter by channeling the crackling energy through his psyche. He retaliated with a powerful Earth ball, immediately following it with a barrage of pelting hail.

 

Suddenly they were dueling in earnest and Taran watched spellbound, envious of their casual control over power he could scarcely dream of. His admiration increased as he saw a demonstration of skills he had only read about in his father’s notes. Fascinating as it was, he felt some satisfaction when Robin, by now perspiring freely, panted, “Major, enough.”

 

She didn’t heed him. Staring at him, her own eyes huge and black, Sullyan warned, “Robin, I am not playing now.”

 

“Watch out,” said Bull urgently to Taran, “you’d better shield yourselves. I’ll take care of Rienne.”

 

Taran felt the big man throwing a shield of metaforce around Rienne, but he and Cal were left to their own precautions. Swiftly, they raised their inner shields and just as well, for what followed was the most vicious sally of offensive moves Taran had ever seen.

 

Sullyan moved about the arena with cat-like grace, catching Robin off guard on more than one occasion. Her attacks used the full powers of Earth, Water and Fire and soon the young man was in trouble. He was perspiring heavily from the sustained effort of defending from her attacks while still trying to launch his own. Eventually, he staggered, cried out, and went down.

 

Immediately, Sullyan abandoned her attack. “Robin!” she exclaimed, running to him and crouching by his side.

 

The young man leaped abruptly to his feet, surprising the Major. Taran gasped as a glowing network of fiery lines appeared around Sullyan. Crackling and snapping with power, the glowing net formed a cage, surrounding her completely. Robin stood off, panting for breath. One hand was clenched to his chest but a smile of triumph lit his eyes.

 

Bull slapped his knees and cried, “Well done, lad.”

 

Taran’s eyes were popping with amazement; he had never seen or heard of anything like this before. “What on Earth is it?” he asked Bull.

 

“Firefield,” said Bull as he dropped the shield he’d been holding over Rienne. “He’s been waiting months for a chance to use it.”

 

Sullyan stood within the fiery cage. Her face was unreadable, her pupils huge. Slowly, she stretched out one hand, only to snatch it back when the glittering lines of power sparked in reaction. She put her hands on her hips, her enormous eyes fixed on Robin.

 

“So,” came her lilting voice, “playing with Fire now, are we? What a nasty little trick that is, Robin, using my love for you against me.”

 

“Maybe,” panted Robin, “but who taught me?”

 

“Did I?” she said, turning within the cage to inspect its construction. “Then you learned the lesson well. Your power and control are growing.”

 

The Captain smiled.

 

“But Robin, did I also teach you this?”

 

Fast as a striking snake, she threw back her head and flung her arms out with a snapping gesture. The cage shattered into tiny glittering pieces that hissed and dissolved on the grass.

 

The violent disruption of the firefield and the resulting jolt to Robin’s already depleted metaforce caused the Captain to give a small cry of pain. He sank to one knee. Free now, the Major approached him and kneeled beside him. Laying her hand on his hair, she stroked it lightly.

 

“You have done well today, Robin, very well indeed. I am proud of you. Let me help you regain your breath.”

 

“I’m fine, Major,” protested Robin but Sullyan insisted.

 

An amber glow appeared briefly in the air between them. Taran saw Rienne lean forward. He frowned, realizing she had recognized the healing it contained. He noticed Sullyan was watching her also, her dilated eyes narrowing speculatively. The aura faded and Sullyan helped Robin up.

 

His face had lost its ashy paleness and expression of pain, but his breath was still ragged. The Major regarded him a moment, her hand on his arm.

 

“Did you see how I broke the firefield?” she asked. Robin nodded, too out of breath to speak. “Then let this be your final test of Fire. Learn the technique and you will be confirmed a Master.”

 

She stepped away, collected her sword and left the arena, moving effortlessly as if she hadn’t just exhausted two men with her power. Robin stared after her and Taran was astounded to see that his dark-blue eyes were filled with tears.

 

Bull stood and pounced on him, enveloping him in a crushing bear hug. Coughing, Robin pushed the big man away.

 

“Get off me, you ox,” he gasped. “I can’t breathe.”

 

He collapsed onto the bench next to Taran, fighting to control his breathing while struggling with his emotions.

 

Bull was grinning foolishly. “I told you all that extra coaching and practice would pay off, didn’t I? That was very clever of you, making her angry like that. She’d never have fallen for it otherwise.” He slapped the Captain’s back. “I’m so proud of you, lad.”

BOOK: Artesans of Albia: 01 - King's Envoy
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