Authors: Andrew Wood
She looked with utter amazement, as the water run across the young prince's fingers and started going upwards; defying everything, she had ever known to be possible. The young man's touch was so gentle, and she could feel the warmth radiating from his entire body. Her arm tingled and she felt a sudden burst of something she could not describe, as if some form of energy had suddenly been released.
Luken slumped forward, his body suddenly barely able to hold itself up. The young woman quickly grabbed him, realising she was using the arm that had been broken, "oh, praise the gods, you have fixed it. Thank you so much your highness." Dagon nudged her out of the way, "Yes! Now move out the of the way woman, can't you see he needs attention." She gave him a sour look, before placing a gentle kiss on Luken's forehead," take care, and I shall always be in your debt," she whispered softly in his ear, before giving way to Dagon's nudging.
The woman smiled as she walked off, Dagon however was not so pleased. Realising he had probably pushed his young pupil too far. The last occasion he had healed had caused him to become drained, and it appeared as if this had done likewise. Taking his hip flask, and a small vial, he quickly mixed a tonic. Helping him sit, Dagon offered a cup to Luken's mouth, "here drink this, it should help."
A cold, but somehow very sweet liquid poured into his mouth, and Luken swallowed, and drank deeply. Whatever the drink was, it did at least quickly give him the energy to support his own weight. He looked up at the crotchety old man before him, and gave him a wry smile, "I fixed it." Dagon concurred, "Yes you did, well done. I think however, your body is not ready for healing. For some reason, it requires so much of your own life force to carry out. I will need to speak to Sandred, for now I think it best you rest up."
Luken's two guards aided him, and placing an arm around the shoulder of each, they slowly made their way back through the gates into the city. Those that saw him, thought the worse, fearing the young prince had befallen some accident. It was left to Dagon to explain, to those who rushed to see if he needed help. "He is fine, go away," he shouted rudely, though many ignored his discourteous remarks. This was the young man who they owed their lives, and some snide remark from some old fool was not going to keep them at bay.
By the time they had reached the keep gates, what had started out as two guards, Luken and Dagon, was now a worried crowd numbering close on a hundred. Luken being totally unaware of the hullaballoo that he had caused, lifted his head, and turned. He was not sure why all these people were following him, though they were not permitted past the keep gates. "They are worried about you sire," one of the guards spoke.
Luken summoned up enough energy; he knew he must just take a few steps back to the gates. With the guards still supporting him, he turned to the crowd of worried looking faces. "I am fine, I just need to rest" he spoke in a weak voice. "He healed my broken arm," came a loud shout from somewhere near the back of the crowd. The woman whom he had helped, worked her way forward, "With his magic, look," she shouted waving her arm aloft. The crowd gasped, and then the clapping and cheers started, a few at first but quickly building up to a deafening crescendo.
Luken felt a little embarrassed, and he could see Dagon totally irritated by the whole affair. That was enough to make him smile, and with a struggle, he managed to wave his arm a little to the adoring crowd, who cheered louder when he did. As he walked off towards the keep, the guards held a firm line to stop anyone else following; Caldar came rushing through the doors.
At seeing his sibling, being held up by two guards, he like the crowd feared something had happened. Dagon explained to him what had taken place, and the prince had merely healed a woman's broken arm, that was all. The cheers and clapping had followed when the daft woman shouted out like it was some god like miracle. Caldar looked at the old man explaining, and thought, Luken was right, this was probably the most insufferable human being on the planet.
Relieving one of the guards from his burden, Caldar helped carry Luken into the keep and start the trek upstairs to their rooms. Dagon started to follow, but Caldar was in no mood for the horrid little man, "we can manage Dagon. Have you not got a service or something to write?" he said snidely. The old man gave the crown prince a stare, realising he was being politely told to go away, he dropped his head and shuffled his way back down, and out of the door.
Luken opened his eyes, he was lying on what he assumed was a bed. "He's awake," he heard the familiar voice of Taylor shout. Lifting his head slightly he saw a whole cast of people before him, all smiling and staring his way. Taylor climbed up and gave him a hug, and Sarena leant down to give him a kiss. Caldar and Vanessa were there, as was Lord Galliss, Darak and even General Skalton. "As amazing as you are little brother, I do wish you would stop scaring us like this." Luken gave a wry smile, "you did magic again dad, and there was a huge crowd cheering you outside," Taylor said excitedly.
Caldar told him, that he had spoken to Dagon, and the two agreed, for now at least to put a hold on his magical exploits. Taylor appeared to be the only one not happy of that outcome, but said nothing. In a small way, Luken was glad of that discussion as well. On one hand, he was always pleased when he had managed to do some good, such as fixing the woman's arm, on the other he certainly would not miss the after effects it sometimes caused him.
Chapter 6.
The recruits camped south of the city of New Easton stood lined up in their usual two ranks. Today they would be allocated their respective units. Most already had a good idea whether they were becoming archers, infantry or cavalry, a few were not so sure. It occurred to a few that they may not get the post they had wanted.
Captain Jak Corley stood at the front of the lines, holding a paper. He started reading down the list of names, giving each their selected group. Dane had wanted to be an archer, but as yet, for some reason his name had not yet been read out. "Camden, Infantry. Patrick, Infantry. Rowan, light cavalry, lancers..." He could not help himself, as Rowan let out a cry of "yes!", and Jak Corley looked up at the young man, who a week or so earlier was on the verge of being kicked out.
Camden and Patrick looked at each other, the latter not particularly pleased with the group he had been given. He had wanted to be a cavalryman, and would be making a plea later to get it changed to what he wanted. If not he would be leaving, if he could not do what he wanted, then he would not do it at all. All the other names had been read, and Dane was still none the wiser as to his calling.
Jak Corley looked up from his list, "that is all. Dane step forward please." His name had not been read, and the feeling of dread came over him. He had tried and worked hard, done as he was asked, and he feared he was being told he was surplus to requirement." He nervously stepped forward, standing upright at attention, waiting for the inevitable. "Dane," Jak spoke again, "the other trainers and I have deliberated, and have selected you to be promoted to Squad Leader. Oh and your with the archers by the way," he added as an afterthought.
Dane stood with his face beaming a smile even bigger than the usual one it had, as Jak pinned on a badge indicating his rank. It was only a low rank, but it still put him higher than every other recruit stood with him. "Thank you Sir," he uttered as the Captain took a step back from him. He turned and noticed several faces staring at him, as he rejoined the ranks.
Patrick felt even more enraged, not only did he not get the position he wanted, he would now be expected to take orders from someone three years his junior. Jak gave a nod in Dane's direction, and the young man knew what it meant. He stepped forward and turned to face his fellow recruits, "Squad, dismissed," he shouted.
Several people, including Camden and Rowan rushed straight over to Dane, congratulating him on his promotion. Patrick however, made a beeline straight for the captain, who was making his way to his office. "I'm not being in the infantry," he shouted after him, "and I am certainly not taking orders off that idiot," he pointed back to where Dane stood. Jak ignored the shouts and continued onwards, opening his door, entering through to his office and shutting it behind him.
Patrick thumped on the door, "oh! Old man, you deaf, I said I am not ..." he was cut off by two guards, pulling his arms behind his back. He yelled in defiance, struggling to free himself, as Jak re-opened the door. "Charge this young man with insubordination; he is fined two weeks wages. If he struggles further, you will tie him up. If he continues to rant and rave, you will flog him." With that threat, the door was slammed back in Patrick's face, and Jak hoped it would not go any further.
The young man was enraged, how dare he be treated in this way. As the child of a wealthy merchant, when younger he had always gotten what he asked for. This would be no different and he continually wriggled as he felt a rope being tied around his wrists. He then felt himself pushed to the ground, and a further rope was bound around his ankles. He looked up at one of the guards to give him what for, but was told, "Listen son, you already lost two weeks wages and your temper has got you bound up. It is up to you what we do next. You can shut up and stop behaving like a spoilt child, or we fulfil our next command and you will regret it the rest of your life."
Patrick in hindsight probably regretted his next move, which was to spit in the direction of the guard. The man did not take kindly, and knocked on the door to the Captains office to report the incident. Jak stood in the doorway shaking his head. Shouting at a superior officer was one thing, spitting at one was something on a completely different level. "Tie him to the post, give him six lashes," he said rather reluctantly. It always pained him to dish out such punishments, yet this young man seemed intent on self-destruction.
The commotion was now such, it had drawn the attention of virtually everyone else on camp. The other recruits watched in shock as Patrick was hauled over and dragged to the nearest post. One of the guards ripped the shirt off his back while the other fastened his hands to the vertical stake. Captain Jak Corley stood over to one side, overseeing the punishment would go ahead as instructed.
Dane did not know why he ran forward, but he found himself standing before the man that had just handed him his promotion. "Captain, please don't do this. Perhaps let me talk to him, and maybe if he apologises...well would that suffice?" Jak looked at the young man's face, in some ways he was angry his best recruit was attempting to delay his orders from being carried out. On the other hand, he was pleased for two reasons, firstly he never liked having people flogged, and secondly it showed him, the man selected for officer had been the right choice. Only a man of a certain calibre would go to such lengths, risking punishment himself sticking up for one of his own.
"You have five minutes. If he has not calmed down, and come forth on his own initiative to offer formal apologies to both myself, and the guard he spat at, then he will be flogged. He must also understand, that the fines remain, moreover he will report for extra duties everyday for a week." Dane thought through what was said, "Yes Sir, thank you Sir."
The other recruits were shepherded away, and the guards retreated, and Dane was left alone with a bound, very angry Patrick. Thinking quickly what he was going to say, he stepped nearer," Patrick," good start he thought. "I know you don't particularly like me, for what reason I am not sure. However, the Captain has said if you say sorry for what you said and did, you won't be flogged." He looked expectantly at the older recruits red, flustered face, "piss off you little whelp." This was going to be tougher than he first thought, maybe next he would think before volunteering for such things.
He decided to try a different approach, "you are probably one of the best swordsmen amongst us, if not the very best." Patrick looked at him, "you kidding, I got my ass kicked by that young kid the other day. I want cavalry or else I'm quitting...in fact the minute they have flogged me I am off anyway." Time was rapidly ticking away, and he was getting nowhere fast, "you lost to the young lad, true, but you bettered every one of us to get to challenge him. Moreover, that lad has been having private lessons for weeks with the Captain, and is for his age is an outstanding swordsman."
He thought he saw a glimmer of calmness appear, "yes I suppose I was the best to fight him." Dane hoped to continue in the same mood of optimism, "Just think about it. They are not going to put the best swordsman in our entire group, wielding a lance on a horse. Why else do you think they picked you for infantry?" Patrick looked at him, "I want to ride, and I can wield a sword from a horse." This was hard work, "we all ride, even archers get to ride, and it is just easier for us to fight on our own two feet, same as you with a sword."
Dane looked over his shoulder, expecting the guards to be returning any second, but for now, they still kept their distance. Perhaps the Captain had allowed him a little longer; at least he wished that were the case. "Listen Patrick, all you have to do is apologise to the guard and the Captain, and all this is stopped. Oh! And your fined two weeks pay," he added as an afterthought. Patrick dropped his head, and Dane thought at last, he had gotten through to him. "Oh and you have to report for extra duties, for a week," he had forgotten that one as well.
"Please Patrick, none of the lads wish to see you get flogged, now quick, they are coming back," he said as the guards and Captain Jak Corley made their way to them. Dane had done all he could, and Patrick looked him in the eye before dropping his head back down. "Well, what is it to be?" the Captain spoke firmly. Dane discreetly crossed his fingers, hoping that Patrick had calmed down sufficiently to think rationally. "I wish to offer my apologies Sir, to both you and that man there. I was being foolish, and I regret my actions. I hope you accept this, and agree I must be punished for my conduct."