Silver Dragon (11 page)

"
Your ship's missing a few sails," Kar declared. "Do you have any idea of the odds of such random guessing?"

"I don't need sails, I've got oars," Patrina said. She looked at Karthor and tried to let him see the strength of her heart in her eyes.

Karthor nodded. "I'll go with you."

"By the saints!" Kar cried out in dismay.

"Beats sitting around here getting splinters from these benches. Why does nobody ever think to smooth them?" Namitus said.

The clanking of metal interrupted them. Mordrim walked into the hall and stopped. He looked around, his helm tucked under his arm,
and then he saw them and hurried over to them. Garrick followed behind, wearing his furs and armed for the trail.

"Heard you was heading out after the boy," Mordrim said. "I pledge my hammer at your side, my
lady. I can't rightly let you take off without me."

Patrina smiled and mouthed a thank
-you to him, and then turned to look at Garrick. He scowled and said, "I won't let it be said that stumpy dared to go where I would not."

"Stumpy?" Namitus echoed.

Mordrim glared at the barbarian. "Mind your tongue, boy, or I'll cut you off at the knees. Who's to be the stumpy one then?"

"I'm more likely to trip over you," Garrick said.

Mordrim placed his helm on his head and adjusted it, and then growled and took three steps before lowering his helm and jamming the studded steel straight into the furs over Garrick's loins.

The barbarian's breath exploded from his mouth. He stumbled back and reached for himself, but not before he fell to his knees
. He teetered forward and fell off to the side, rolling on his shoulder and curling into a ball.

Mordrim stood tall and turned back to Patrina. "I stand ready, my
lady."

Garrick overheard the slight but when he tried to move and regain his feet
, he could only manage a groan.

"Ah, here's someone to talk sense into you all," Kar said when Tristam approached the table.

The leader of the Blades walked around Garrick, staring at him the entire while. Mordrim smiled and tapped his helmet in greeting, earning a laugh from Namitus. "What's this?"

"She thinks she can pray to the Saint of Lust and receive guidance to the boy," Kar was quick to advise.

"Syllenia is the patron saint of love and romance!" Patrina refuted.

Kar raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that said she'd argued his point as well as her own.

"We can't just wander around the countryside hoping we'll find him," Tristam argued.

Patrina sniffed. "I'll be paying you."

"Been a while since I've had some fresh air and wind in my face." Tristam changed his tune. "I think we could all do with a little exercise."

Kar threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, I'll go, but only to make sure you don't get my boy killed."

"Father, I'm neither a boy nor incapable of defending myself," the priest reminded him.

Kar waved it away. "Last time I took a nap
, they tried to do you under. Somebody's got to watch out for you. I guess it falls to me since there's no one else."

Karthor rolled his eyes before turning to look at Garrick. "Breathe through it," the priest said. "Priest or not, I'm not laying my hands on that
wound!"

Chapter 7

Aleena stood at attention outside
Sir Amos's door. Her body hurt in ways that even the daily training couldn't provide. She'd glimpsed her face; her eye was a rainbow of gruesome colors and her nose and lip were swollen. That was just her face—the rest of her body felt as though she'd been run over by a coach drawn by a team of horses.

The other recruits had all gone before her, one at a time, into
Sir Amos's chambers. Each had come back out, save for Celos. She wondered why he hadn't been released. When the others exited and walked past her, they did so with their heads held up. Only Durak had turned his head just enough to offer her a wink as he walked out.

The door opened, allowing Recruit William to walk past her as though she didn't exist. Aleena drew in a breath to strengthen her already stiff shoulders and walked into the priest's office.
Sir Amos sat behind his desk while Celos stood to the side of it, facing him.

"Recruit Aleena,"
Sir Amos greeted her. She stiffened even more and stared above him towards the symbol of Leander on the wall behind the priest. "You performed admirably at the testing so soon after beginning your training. However, you have failed every challenge."

Aleena kept her desire to wince inside. She blinked when her vision blurred, but otherwise forced herself to behave like a statue.

"Several of the other priests have called for your dismissal. They doubted my wisdom in allowing you to train and again in allowing you to test. Now they believe they have the proof that they need. Their concerns are in your best interests. Tell me, Aleena, what do you think of this?"

Aleena blinked again, surprised at being given the chance to voice her thoughts. Or was she? Was it a formality? Was she out no matter what she said? Aleena looked up to the holy symbol behind
Sir Amos again. She drew strength from the painted rays of sunlight and clasped her left fist over her heart.

"Saint Leander, I have followed and admired You from afar for all of my life. It was only in these last two weeks that I have come to learn of You
beyond the words of one of Your chosen priests. This time of training and learning has been the most rewarding of my life, and I pray that You will allow me to continue to pledge my service to You. Through serving You, I have found my troubles eased and my life made simple. I believe that I can best serve You as one of your chosen Knights, but I will continue to serve in whatever fashion You deem fit."

Sir Amos
nodded his head when Aleena lapsed into silence. She closed her eyes and dropped her head as was the proper ritual for a prayer to Saint Leander. Her arm fell to her side and she opened her eyes to look at the priest again.

"The other priests do have your best interests at heart, Aleena," he repeated. "I admire and respect that, but I have a different calling. On my heart weighs the heavy weight of the church of Saint Leander. We live in troubled times where lip service is played to the saints but true believers are fewer and farther between. Those
who would devote their lives to the ideals and principles embodied by the saints come to us less and less often. There are no temples to Leander or any other saints to the north. Small shrines exist in villages and cities, but the priests lack the divine might granted to accomplished priests. I believe that you can help with that."

"
What?" Aleena slipped and asked. She clamped her mouth shut, mortified at her lack of discipline. Sir Amos's lips rose in a ghost of a smile that disappeared just as quickly.

"I may be doing you a disservice, Aleena, but I wish you to continue your training. I wish you to succeed and one day become a Knight of Leander. Word of your rise will spread far and you can inspire the people of the northern reaches. Remind them that Leander will champion us all, n
ot just the privileged or holy. You must work harder and longer than your fellow recruits. You must be able to run farther and faster. Strike truer and endure more. You must be forged into the finest weapon the church has seen in hundreds of years, if not ever. And the forging will be painful. Will you agree to this?"

Patrina slammed her hand over her heart again. "I will,
Sir Amos. I won't let you down again."

"You haven't let me down yet," he said with a
sad smile. "Squire Celos has passed the testing and become my squire. He will assist me in training the recruits, but his true job is to push you to become the best trainee ever seen. You have six months. If you do not rise to the ranks of a squire at the next testing, I will be forced to dismiss you for the good of the church and for your own good."

Aleena nodded. "I will make you proud of me,
Sir Amos."

Amos smiled. "Make yourself proud, recruit. You have already shown me earlier today that yo
u have a fire burning in you hot enough to temper the hardest of steels."

Aleena slammed her fist to her chest again and left
Sir Amos's office. She walked back to the barracks without feeling any of her pains. The other recruits looked up as she entered. One bunk, the one that had belonged to a young man named Rorin, had already been emptied.

Aleena
walked past them without a word, heading straight for her bunk. She slipped behind the sheets and took the healer's robes they'd given her as a dress uniform off. She folded the robes and put them in her trunk, and then pulled out the pants and shirt she wore when training.

"Hey, how did your—" Durak's words were choked off by a strangled gasp as he rounded the sheet and saw
Aleena pulling her pants over her hips.

Aleena
jumped and covered her chest with her arms. The young man stared at her, mouth agape as they both were unable to get past the awkward moment. "Close your mouth, you look a fool," Aleena said when she realized he was stricken senseless and unlikely to move. She sighed and lowered her arms as she turned away. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it on, and then tied the laces to tighten it and added a belt around her waist.

When she turned
, Durak was gone. She smirked and put her boots on, and then hurried back out of the barracks and down the hall. The other recruits stared at her in utter silence as she passed them. Durak was focused on his own trunk, keeping his back to her. It didn't matter what they thought of her anymore. Her task was to pass the test. The other trainees could only help her work towards that. Either they would try to make it difficult and thus make her stronger or they would work with her and help her become stronger.

But for now, with her body drained and trying to recover, there was only one thing she could think of to do. She was going to run that obstacle course again.

* * * *

True to his word,
Sir Amos set Celos to make her life miserable. The very first day of training, the recruits were tasked with striking straw dummies with their weapons. They were not given armor to wear for the exercise.

"Aren't we beyond this?" Aleena hissed to Durak while they grabbed swords and maces.

"Every testing cycle they start over. They believe a gifted recruit can learn it in one pass, but they allow four if you don't make a fool of yourself," he answered.

"Durak!" Celos pointed at a dummy near him. "Be silent and take this practice dummy. Perhaps it can teach you how to wield that sword where everyone else has failed."

Aleena opened her mouth to protest. She'd been the one to ask him a question. Durak saw her and shook his head, silencing her. She relented but shot a dark glare at Celos. There was no cause for him to act that way towards his friends. They'd shared sweat and blood. Together! Now that he was a squire, he was suddenly that much better than they were?

"Recruit Aleena, take this dummy beside me. It's fat enough
even you shouldn't be able to miss it."

Aleena stiffened at his jibe. She narrowed her eyes and walked over to the appointed target and waited for the command to begin. All the while she imagined Celos's smirking face on the dummy.

The bell rang a few moments later, announcing that they were to begin practicing thrusts with their swords. Aleena ground her teeth and went through the motions and thrust at the dummy. She buried the point of her blade in the target four times before Celos slapped her sword aside with his own.

"Recruit, why are you wasting our time?" Celos barked at her.

Aleena glared at him. "I'm stabbing the target, as ordered, squire."

"That's what stabbing means to you?" Celos asked. "Looked like you were poking him to see if he'd been cooked long enough. You tickle a man in a battle like that and he's going to know you belong in a kitchen! Now do it again!"

Aleena took a deep breath through her nose that made her entire body shake. She wanted to throttle the squire. Aleena turned her anger on the wood and straw target and raised her sword. Her next three lunges punched the training weapon through the densely packed straw but left her winded and weak. She reset herself for a fourth and risked a glance at Celos.

He shook his head and showed a sneer of disgust. "You'll be feared by all the unarmed peasants in the north with strikes like that."

She turned her attention back to the dummy and clenched the grip of the sword tightly in her hand. With her arm all but locked in position, she lunged forward, intent on striking through the dummy's chest. The momentum of her lunge twisted her thrust and brought it down so that she barely grazed the target at the hip.

Celos turned away. He looked back at her and said, "Do yourself a favor and quit to avoid the embarrassment of a second failed testing."

Aleena realized a moment later that she was staring at Squire Celos with her mouth hanging open. He thought she should quit? She clamped her mouth shut and glanced at Durak's dummy. She watched him drive his sword into the dummy three times, each of the strikes going in deep but not emerging behind it. They were well-placed strikes, spearing what would have been the heart or at least the lungs. Aleena's target sported belly, hip, and thigh wounds.