Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (21 page)

He summoned me a week ago and requested that I bring a message to the society. The king requests that the society act of its own accord to rid the kingdom of this invasion with whatever means we see necessary.” With that, many in the crowd cheered, Aeden included.

Jona returned to his seat, and Clara, still seated, spoke to the assembly. “What then shall we do, my beloved rohvim? There are several here with the skill of the blade, though I doubt even your skill is match enough for an army of thousands. We can heal, and verily we can cast the usurping rohva out of every last head of the invading army, but that may be a temporary solution and I do not see how we can approach soldiers without being questioned—perhaps questioned aggressively with a blade. We are few, but powerful, being blessed with the knowledge of our true selves. What think you?” 

Jona raised his voice, “Shall we not march to the north and assault this Lord Shiavo in his own stronghold? We have an army in this room of at least one hundred, with perhaps another fifty we could assemble in a week’s time. And we could most assuredly receive the support of the nobles of this city and others that we pass through on the way to the warlord’s stronghold.”

Another ancient, shriveled woman seated on the dais spoke up, “And what if this Lord Shiavo has an equally large army waiting for us when we arrive at his compound? The society could be destroyed! We cannot take that risk, and lose the true knowledge of humanity for another ten thousand years.”

Many on the dais and in the assembled crowd nodded their approval at this. Another man on the dais spoke. “A smaller group then, in stealth. Might they not have a chance to infiltrate the warlord’s estate, and battle him, and him alone?”

Many voiced their agreement, and the master healer finally spoke again, “I have had this same thought. It should be a small group, no more than thirteen. We should have several accomplished swordsmen, and all should be accomplished rohvim, each able to challenge the warlord in rohva duel, and thus able to take mastery of his body and destroy him.”

There was general chatter all around and after a minute, Clara stood and declared, “We have several options before us. Let us cast our voices now. Who desires to do nothing and wait for the King to assemble his army?”

A few scattered “yeas!” were heard, but quickly muffled when they realized the unpopularity of their opinion.

“And who desires to send our entire number, gathering those who we might along the way to make a direct assault on the warlord’s stronghold?”

Many more voices called out their approval, Aeden included. Clara continued, “And who desires that we send a small covert group to eliminate the warlord himself?”

The majority of the crowd roared their approval. Clara continued, “Very well, that course of action is decided. We must now choose the group. Who among you volunteers for this dangerous and potentially lethal mission?”

Over one hundred hands shot up into the air. Clara stared at them in awed silence, a look of immense pride beaming from her face. “My dear rohvim,” she began tenderly, “not all of us may go. How shall we decide this question, then?”

The master healer cleared his throat. “Madam, I propose we gather the Elder Council together, and choose ourselves. As I said before, most of the group should be familiar, preferably expert, with a blade, and all should have mastery over the seven rohva skills.”

Clara nodded in agreement. “Let us then reconvene in an hour’s time, when we will then present to you the names of those chosen. Of one mind and heart.”

The crowd answered her back and the chamber erupted into a tumult of chatter as the crowd rose and slowly pressed through the exit. The thirteen men and women on the dais stayed in their seats until the crowd had left, and then retired to a smaller room at the back of the chamber. Aeden and Priam, meanwhile, wandered about the hall chatting. Aeden remarked, “I wonder who they’ll pick? I did not know that many healers are also accomplished warriors.”

Priam shrugged. “Yeah, who’d have thought that? But then, we are pretty new here and …”

Aeden interrupted, whispering close to Priam, “Look! There’s Betha.”

“Who’s Betha?” Priam whispered back.

“She’s this … girl. Society member. Very good looking, and last time we talked, she said she was a swordswoman. Said her father served in the royal guard for years and taught her everything he knows.”

Priam looked to where he had pointed, and there saw a young woman, rather short with brown hair, talking with another girl.

“Who’s the friend?”

“Oh, that’s Darla. They’re always together. She seems to be interested in a guy named Frederick …” Aeden added when he saw the look in his friend’s eye.

“I can look past that …” Priam muttered. Aeden turned to look at Betha again and saw the two girls laugh. The time of day allowed the sun to pass its golden beams through the openings in the roof until they fell directly on the girls. Betha seemed aglow, bathed in the sunlight, and Aeden’s eyebrows rose in breathless wonder.

The two girls suddenly noticed the two boys staring, and decided to approach them. Darla called out, “Hey prince, get a good look?”

Aeden greeted them and introduced his friend, “This is Priam. We grew up together in Elbeth, and he just made it here this morning with the master healer. Priam, this is Darla, a member of the society that I’ve known for almost a week. Stay away from her right fist. And this …” He turned to Betha, searching for the right way to introduce her, “… is Betha. She runs a shop here in town with her father, and by all accounts is a renowned swordswoman.” He nodded slightly to her.

She gave a half-smile and said, “Pleased to meet you, Priam. If you’re anything like your friend, then we are all very … uh, lucky, to have you here.”

Priam bowed low to them both, saying, “Pleased to meet your acquaintances.” He arose, and continued, “Well, Betha, you may be a good swordswoman, but I must say, you’d probably be outmatched by my friend here. He just won the tournament in Elbeth before the invasion—just his age bracket, of course, but impressi…”

Darla interrupted him, “Oh, what do you know about swordsmanship? You’re looking at one of the finest in all of Ramath right in front of you. You’re trying to tell me some spoiled son-of-a-duke can hold his own against someone trained her entire life by a man that spent his whole career in the royal guard? Ha!”

Priam escalated, “Not only hold his own, madam, but I daresay he could humble her readily. Do we have a challenge, then?”

Darla retorted, “We have! Come on, Betha!” And she grabbed her protesting friend.

“But, but, I don’t want to duel him!” She shot her friend a wicked look.

Priam nudged Aeden in the ribs. “Oh look, she’s backing out now. Doesn’t think she can take you.”

Aeden shot him his own lethal look, muttering through clenched teeth, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Darla pulled her friend toward the entrance, “Let’s go Betha. Time for you to teach prince two here a lesson in swordplay.”

Priam also nudged Aeden towards the entrance, and several younger onlookers cheered them on. By now, both Aeden and Betha were too flustered to put up much of a protest, and they allowed themselves to be swept out the door by a small crowd. Once outside, the excited observers formed a small circle around the four youth, which immediately drew the attention of yet more people.

Betha protested further, “Darla, I don’t even have my sword with me!” Priam pulled his out of its sheath. “By all means, my lady, please use mine,” and handed it to Darla, who shoved it into Betha’s reluctant hand.

Betha didn’t give up, “I’m not even wearing any armor! He’s at least got a leather cuirass on!” she said, pointing to Aeden.

He interjected, “Well, we can just aim to disarm the other …”

Betha glared at him. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” The young woman raised her sword in salute. He did likewise. They circled each other slowly, eyeing the other’s sense of balance and manner of movement.

Aeden struck first, dealing a series of quick blows intent on wrenching the sword out of her hand. She easily parried them, dealing several of her own. Aeden, seeing her obvious skill, put a little more force into his swings, trying to use his larger size to his advantage. She laughed at this, easily knocking his blows aside and delivered several more quick, surprisingly powerful strokes. He backed up, feinting to his right, then spinning inward towards her to his left. His swipe was parried, but he collided into her and knocked her with his elbow, making her stumble.

She caught herself, then charged him, raining strokes upon him like lightning. He parried as best he could, but she had him backing up against the crowd of gathered people, which was cheering and shouting their approval. Aeden then tried a disarming maneuver, but leapt out of the way when she plainly saw it coming and answered it with a cleverly placed swipe of her own. Clearly frustrated, and yet in awe, he charged her again, his sword as lightning in his hands.

Suddenly, actual lightning erupted from her sword, connected with his, and Aeden dropped it with a cry of pain and shock. The crowd cheered, and Darla and several others rushed forward to congratulate their companion. He stared at her in disbelief.

“What did you do?” he asked, still rubbing his hand from the shock.

Betha smirked at him, “It’s just one of the seven rohva powers. Haven’t you seen a society member shock another before? We mostly do it for fun, but sometimes it can come in handy in just such a situation.” She picked up his fallen sword and presented it to him, who was still rubbing his hand.

“But, how did you do it?”

Betha replied, “Swordmaster Arturo taught me—he’s the master swordsman in the society, not only of traditional swordsmanship, but of … rohva enhanced swordsmanship. I can introduce you to him if you like—I’m sure he would love to further the training of someone so skilled …”

Aeden frowned, thinking she was mocking him, but noticed the gentle smile on her face, and softened his. “Well, Lady Betha, it was an honor to be disarmed by you. Shall we re-enter the chamber? It appears as if people are gathering already.” She agreed to this, and with their two friends in tow, found their seats again in the council chamber. The leaders of the society had apparently come to a decision early, for only half an hour had passed since the adjournment.

It took a few minutes for the rest of the members to trickle in, and once they had, Clara stood once more to address the crowd. “My people. We present now the names of those chosen to undertake the mission. We ask the chosen: if you will please assemble here upon the dais to be presented before the society for its approval.” She paused, looking at all of them seated below her, hanging on her words.

She continued, “The master healer has agreed to lead the expedition.” He stood from his chair and approached the area of the dais to which she had motioned.

“Swordmaster Arturo.” A short, grizzled man stood up from the crowd and made his way forward.

“Betha Solvinstra of Ramath.” Aeden’s mouth dropped in shock, again, as the girl approached the dais. Clara lowered her voice. “Unless your father …?”

Betha shook her head. “No ma’am.”

“Very well.” Muttered Clara, and Betha took her place on the dais as the woman continued.

“Rupert Murridock of Ramath.” The gangly boy arose and joined the others.

 “Lady Ellen of Daystar.” A tall, elegant woman seated near the back came forward.

“Edwin Farthmore of the Capital city.” A man who appeared to be in his thirties jumped out of his chair and bounded forward.

“Gregory Mantos of the Capital City.” An older man, maybe in his eighty’s, approached the dais and leaped onto it, shaking hands with the master healer.

“Darla Demingsmore of Ramath.” The girl confidently arose and, head held high, ascended the dais.

“Priam Switchback of Elbeth.” Aeden’s head snapped to his left and saw an equally shocked Priam slowly rise and step forward.

“Why me?” he asked as he approached Clara.

“Because you show great promise, my dear. We need swordsmen for this mission, and though you are new to the society, we are known more for our healing than our swordplay, and the need is great. Do you reject this offer?”

“No ma’am.” And he took his place among the others.

She continued, “Stuart Farthing of Northmarch.” The large boy stood and made his way forward.

“Frederick Tatum of Ramath.” The young man nonchalantly stepped forward with a slight swagger.

“Diana Daystorm of the northern kingdom of Ramala.” A short, middle aged woman came forward.

“And lastly, Aeden Rossam of Elbeth.” A feeling of relief washed over him as he stood and walked forward. “And Aeden, I say to you what I said to Priam—you have great potential as a rohva, but we are calling you now for your skills as a warrior, for they are scant among us.”

The thirteen stood on the dais, looking out at the remaining members of the society. Clara raised her voice once more. “My dear rohvim. Do you accept these people as the representatives we send out to stop this great evil?”

The crowd cheered its approval. Aeden felt hot in the face and beamed out at the crowd. She continued, “Are there any among you who objects to any here chosen?”

The cheering died away, and only glad looks were exchanged across the room. Clara turned to the group of thirteen—the taller men and women in the back, the shorter ones in front with Betha, the shortest, in the middle—and addressed them, “You are now charged with this quest. Travel to the north—the master healer and Diana have special knowledge of that country. Learn what you can along the way. Keep to the shadows and the woods to not draw attention to yourselves, and yet, relieve suffering along your path as is our constant mission. Find the stronghold of the Lord Shiavo. Find him and neutralize the threat. Under the coercion of none and of your own free will, leave now and commit yourselves to this mission, even at the cost of your very lives, for the sake of the society, our kingdom, and our freedom.”

Chapter Thirteen