The Reborn King (Book Six) (27 page)

The First Temple of Valshara -53 years earlier

Aremiel tugged at the collar of his ill-fitting robes, almost dropping his books in the process. They had been made for a much older boy, and his mother had insisted that she hem them herself. Unfortunately, she was an appalling seamstress with no eye for aesthetic detail. Not that she was poorly dressed. But in her exalted position, she had others who attended to such mundane matters.

Since leaving his room that morning he'd been constantly looking down at his feet, praying that the stitching would not come loose and send him tripping face first onto the hard stone floor. He longed to ask for a new robe, but thought it might hurt his mother’s feelings. She seemed to take great pride in the fact that she had attended to his needs herself. Besides, he was by far the smallest boy in Valshara…and the youngest. There probably wasn’t anything that would fit him anyway.

So far his lessons had been easy enough, and his instructors were not as harsh as he'd feared. Even so, he had hoped to have made at least one friend by now. He'd been there a week, and still no one had so much as looked at him.

He turned left down one of the hundreds of hallways, hoping it led to the next lesson. Valshara was so vast and complex that he spent most of his time feeling lost and confused.

Another reason to make a friend as soon as possible
, he considered.

From the opposite direction, three boys were walking straight toward him. All of them were several years older and
much
bigger. They were talking and laughing – something about the ancient languages instructor smelling like rotten cheese.

On catching sight of Aremiel, their laughter stopped and they all went quiet.

Now’s your chance
.

He did his best to make room for them, then put on his friendliest smile. “Hello. My name is....”

“We know your name,” the boy closest to him said. He was taller than the other two, and obviously the leader of the group. “And we know why you’re here.”

“What do you mean?” he said. “I’m just here to learn…the same as you.” He tried to remember the boy’s name.
Come on. You’re missing your chance
. Then it came to him. “You’re Laraad, right?” He held out his hand.

Laraad sneered and folded his arms. “Look here…Aremiel…I had to earn my place in the temple, just like everyone else did. I spent two years in Baltria scrubbing floors and cleaning greasy pots for some stupid historian before they’d let me come. What did you do to get here?”

“I...I” he stammered. “I’m sorry.”

Laraad gave a mocking laugh and glanced at his friends. “You hear that? He’s sorry.” He took a quick step forward. The considerable size difference made it easy for him to loom over the younger boy. “What are you sorry for? Being the son of the High Lady? Is that it? I bet she wouldn’t want to hear that. You’re not ashamed of your mother, are you?”

This made him angry. But there was nothing he could do. If he fought, not only would he likely take a severe beating, he would also have to face his mother afterward.

“Look boys,” Laraad laughed. “I think the little piglet wants to hit me.”

“Watch what you say,” warned the boy to his right. “He might tell his mother you’re calling him names.”

“Yeah. I bet he would too.” He pressed his face into Aremiel’s. “Look you little runt. You may be the son of the High Lady, but that won’t matter when it’s time for combat training.” He straightened his back, grinning viciously. “And I think today is the first day. Maybe I’ll ask the instructor to match us up. Would you like that?”

“I think you’ll be too busy with me, Laraad,” came a voice from behind them.

“Stay out of this, Orias,” he growled, turning and eying the newcomer.

“Why should I? So you can keep taunting a weaker boy? I don’t remember
that
lesson when we were being taught about the knight’s code of morality.”

“What are you going to do? You going to tell his mom too?”

“No,” Orias replied, still grinning. “I’m going to wait until combat training this afternoon. Then I’m going to beat you until you can’t move.” He gestured to Aremiel. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your lesson.”

At first Laraad refused to move aside. Orias shrugged. “Or I could say that you attacked me here in the hall, and that’s why I sent you to the healing chamber with a broken nose. Like you said, his mother is the High Lady. I’m sure he will tell her exactly how it happened.”

Laraad glared at Orias for a long moment, then sniffed. “Come on, let’s go,” he muttered, pushing roughly past Aremiel and stalking away, his friends following close behind.

“Thank you,” Aremiel said, once they were out of sight.

Orias nodded. His grin had vanished. “Listen to me. If you want to make it here, you need to be more than the son of the High Lady. You have to learn how to stand up for yourself.”

“But I…” He hesitated and lowered his eyes. “I don’t know how to fight.”

“Hey! You see? This is what I’m talking about. You should be telling me to mind my own business and shut up.” Orias tussled Aremiel’s hair and lightened his tone. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to fight soon enough, I promise. How old are you anyway? I heard you were only five and some sort of child genius.”

“I’m seven,” he corrected. “And I’m not a genius. I’m a normal child, just like everyone else.”

Orias threw his head back in laughter. “You keep telling yourself that if it helps. But I’ve heard the instructors talking. They say you’re the brightest kid to come here since…well…since me I suppose.”

This time is was Aremiel who laughed.

“Come on,” Orias said. “I’ll take you to your lesson. What do you have next?”

His face turned sour. “Healing Arts.”

“Ah. Mistress Malicia. She’s a mean one all right. I used to call her Mistress Malice. Not to her face of course. But if you’re going to be a knight of Amon Dähl, then you'll need to know healing.”

Aremiel didn’t bother to tell him that he had no intention of being a knight. His mother wouldn’t allow it.

The two boys wound their way through the halls until they reached the healing chamber. Aremiel was beaming the entire way. And to make things even better, he discovered that he had arrived before the other children in his group. Usually, by the time he'd figured out where he was going, the lesson had already begun.

He had heard Orias’ name mentioned by the other children. He was said to be the most gifted boy ever to set foot in Valshara.

And he’s my friend
, he thought while taking his seat at the long table of herbs and strange liquids. If he hadn't been afraid of embarrassment, he would have jumped up and down with sheer happiness. Mistress Malicia gave him a displeased look and a funny kind of snort.
Mistress Malice
, he said with a grin…but not aloud, of course.

Despite Aremiel's raised spirits, as the day progressed a sinking realization inevitably crept in. Today was to be his first day of combat training. He had never so much as threatened another child before, let alone fought one.

By the time he arrived at the door of the training room, his palms were sweating and his heart felt as if it would burst from his chest. The walls of the fifty-foot square room were lined with small round shields and various wooden swords. Most of the other pupils were already there and gathered in groups of four. Aremiel's eyes searched desperately around for Orias, but he was nowhere to be seen. Laraad, however, was all too easy to spot. He was standing with the same two boys who'd been with him in the hall earlier.

He strolled over, a taunting sneer on his face. “Well, well, you actually showed up. What a shame your new friend Orias isn’t here. But don’t worry. You can partner up with us. We’re one short in our group.”

Aremiel just stood still in the doorway.

“Move it, boy,” came a gruff voice from behind. “You’re blocking the way in.”

He felt a massive hand grip his shoulder and move him aside. Looking up, he saw a tall, broad shouldered man with a shaved head and thick powerful arms. His face was scarred and pitted, and his eyes burned bright blue. He looked back at Aremiel without expression for a moment, then strode to the center of the room.

“I am Master Kioshi,” he bellowed. The room went instantly quiet. “I am a knight of Amon Dähl and your combat instructor. Should any of you so much as twitch without permission you will face me in hand-to-hand combat. And let me assure you, you do not want that.”

His eyes swept around the room. “Many of you have been in my class before.” His gaze settled fleetingly on Aremiel. “Some of you have not. For those who are new here, listen, learn, and do what you are told. That way we will get along fine. Test my patience and I will send you to the healing chamber without a moment's thought.

“I am hard. But I am fair. All will be treated equally. Some here want to become knights. Others will pursue different areas of expertise. But I don’t care if you aspire to be a knight or a cook, you will still learn to protect yourself. My job is to see that you can…and I am very good at my job.”

He began rearranging some of the groups. “Aremiel. Team up with Laraad. He needs a partner.”

Aremiel’s heart sank. He could see Laraad grinning from ear to ear.

“Now, boy!” shouted Kioshi.

Aremiel snapped to attention and hastily obeyed.

“I’m going to break your scrawny little neck,” Laraad whispered.

Fear gripped him. He had heard that, from time to time, children were killed during combat training. Usually it was an accident.
This won’t be one of those times
, he thought.

“Today we will work on basic punches and blocks,” Kioshi continued. “I know that you older students have been through this before. But you are to help the younger students learn. And I will be evaluating all of you. For the older children who want to join your friends at the end of the week in the advanced class, I had better see some fire. Those who want to stay here with the younger children…” He looked from group to group slowly. “That can also be arranged.”

Kioshi reached into one of the groups and pulled a girl to the center of the room. Aremiel thought she looked to be about twelve years old. Her long red hair was tied into a tight ponytail, and her gangly limbs made her look quite tall – though when standing next to Kioshi she appeared meek and fragile.

Kioshi allowed the girl to punch him several times. Aremiel was amazed at how fast and accurate she was. Though she couldn’t hurt the instructor, had she been fighting another student, the impact would have been devastating.
I bet she’ll be going to the advanced class
, he thought. Kioshi then showed everyone the blocks to counter these types of attack.

“Now square off,” he shouted. “Older students block. Younger students punch.”

Aremiel faced Laraad and held up his hands as he had seen the girl do. Laraad was still grinning.

“Go ahead,” he said mockingly. “Punch me.”

Without thinking, Aremiel’s fist shot out and landed solidly on Laraad’s chin. The boy stumbled back, his eyes wide with surprise.

“That's good, Aremiel,” Kioshi called from the other side of the room. “And, Laraad. If you plan to move on from this class, you had better show me something.”

Laraad’s face turned red and his jaw clenched tight. “Try that again, runt.”

It took all of Aremiel’s control to keep from trembling.
What did I do? He’s going to kill me for sure now
.

They faced each other again. Aremiel shifted right and crouched low before throwing another punch. His fist made contact for a second time, on this occasion hard into Laraad’s ribcage. The boy let out a grunt and doubled over.

“Laraad!” yelled Kioshi. “What the hell is wrong with you? Let that happen again and you
will
stay here with the younger students.”

The humiliated boy could see the other children snickering and whispering to each other about him. Aremiel groaned inwardly.
This just keeps getting worse and worse
. He could think of only one way to help ease the situation.

They faced up yet again. But this time Aremiel made sure Laraad could see what he was intending well in advance. In a clumsy and exaggerated motion, he stepped left and threw a punch at the boy's right cheek. Laraad raised his arm and easily deflected the blow. After giving a snort of satisfaction, his cocky grin suddenly returned.

Three more times Aremiel threw awkward punches, allowing Laraad to block each one. He spotted Kioshi looking on with interest.

“Now switch,” said the instructor. “But do not use full force.”

This brought a sinister look to Laraad’s face. “Now you’re going to taste blood,” he warned. It was clear he had no intention of obeying Kioshi’s order.

Aremiel readied himself. Laraad threw a straight right aimed for the bridge of his nose. But he tilted his head and raised his arm quickly to deflect the blow past his right ear. Though it was a miss, the contact with his forearm was hard and pain shot all the way up to his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to ignore the injury.