Darsonus and Ree'al
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2014 by novascriptus

Ree'al awoke in an opulent room, a warm body beside him, opulent and tasteless. The clash of colors hurt Ree'al's eyes almost as much as the sun slashing through the window.

A glance at his bedmate told him that she was one of Dar's throwaways, not a woman Ree'al would have chosen. She was almost an exaggeration of womanhood, with breasts too full and hips too wide. Ree'al preferred a more athletic woman. Darnella and Issyl still haunted him.

The angle of the sun showed that it was late morning. Darsonus and two other women slept in another bed. Ree'al thought back to last night and smiled even as the sun made his head hurt.

It had been quite a night. Bargaining was much more fun than Ree'al would have thought possible. At least it was if one knows the final price. Twice Ree'al had jumped across the table threatening to strangle Varnus only to be stopped by Darsonus. Once Varnus walked out for an hour only to be returned by his entourage, kicking and screaming. Varnus had even threatened to kill himself while lamenting that he would die a pauper's death anyway if he paid what Ree'al wanted. All-in-all it was great fun and great theatre. Ree'al should have had the sense to go to sleep then and not try to stay awake to drink with Darsonus.

Headache or not, Ree'al needed breakfast, a quick meal, and then a visit to Tarsus' smithy. He had only three days before he left town with Varnus' daughter, Ellora, and that time would pass quickly. The Royal Inn had better food than the Fat Calf. The fruit, bread, and a little weak beer went down easily. A quiet belch and Ree'al was ready to face the day.

He was shown more respect than yesterday morning as he walked along, proving that the demonstration had been a success. Now, none would think 150 gold was an outrageous sum to pay for the protection that the two warriors would provide. Tarsus was working on a sword with a file when Ree'al approached.

"If you wish to train, then you must take it seriously. Be contemptuous of all else if you want, but not the sword."

Ree'al bit back a comment.

"I will not be working at the forge while you are here so you will not have to tend the fire. You will arrive at sunrise. You must already have exercised and stretched. If I am not satisfied I'll give you more exercises. You will clean the equipment and area before you leave in the evening. You will do what I say, when I say, without question. Do you understand?"

Tarsus watched the emotions play across Ree'al's face. Ree'al had not expected to be treated as a student.

"Did you come here to learn from me?" Tarsus taunted, knowing it would be a close thing. "Answer me, student!" he barked.

"Yes and yes, Sword Master," Ree'al said as he bowed. Anger radiated from his body like heat from a forge.

"Good. Warm up and stretch out. Then get over your anger. One is never too good to learn more and you get mad far too easily. Your anger is your weakness, that and your laziness. When you are ready, I will watch your forms."

Ree'al began running after stretching his legs. Four years. It had been that long since he had studied under a sword master. It was galling. Ree'al had put up with it for fifteen years, so three days should not be a problem. Let the peacock strut. Maybe Tarsus knew something he could pass along.

After two miles it was clear that Tarsus was right. Ree'al was out of shape. Too much time spent aboard the ship. Too much drinking, too many women, and no time spent training. Ree'al turned back towards Aquintali. He arrived far too soon to have run very far.

As he stretched in the practice circle his face was red again, this time from the embarrassment of being out of shape, not from anger. Once he was ready, Ree'al drew his swords and began to work his muscles.

"Are you ready, swordsman?" Tarsus asked.

"Yes, Sword Master," Ree'al answered. So I've been promoted to swordsman now, he thought.

"Begin when you are ready," Tarsus said, setting his work tools aside and getting up from his bench.

But Ree'al couldn't reach that calm place in his mind that he needed to start. Today it was gone, as if it had never existed.

"Before dark, if it pleases you swordsman," Tarsus said.

Ree'al began. Wooden and dead were the only words he could think of to describe his efforts today. Mercifully, Tarsus quickly stopped him.

"What is the matter with you? That's terrible," Tarsus said. "Meditate on your first sword lesson until you think you are ready to use your swords. I'll be back after lunch."

"Yes, Sword Master."


Ree'al da Jarnessa stood in front of the massive door and struck it three times with his small fist. He was a short child, and a bit thin at 6 years old. He stood there straight and alert as he waited at the door. His family had always been Ginjarem Warriors. Ree'al was uneasy and perhaps even afraid although his ancestors had knocked on this door for untold generations. No one, not even his father, would tell him what to expect this day, his first day of training. Those of the House Jarnessa did not use their titles to escape the harsh training. Warriors did not talk about their training. His father had told him to follow these words exactly:

Stand in front of the Southern Gate at Ginjarem's temple before dawn.

At sunrise knock on the door three times.

Wait until the door is opened.

Do what you are told.

There he stood and waited. He waited and waited. He was a child, and an hour was an eternity to him. His back was to the sun so he had trouble telling how much time had passed. Why haven't I been let in the temple, he wondered. Have they forgotten about me? Maybe I should knock again? If this is being a warrior maybe I don't want to be a warrior. His thoughts wandered as he watched a beetle crawl by. I should go home. I don't want to be a warrior, but it doesn't matter, my word is my bond. I promised my father and so I will be stubborn. He really didn't know what "my word is my bond" meant, but he had heard it all his life. I will show these priests what it means to be da Jarnessa. I will stand here until I die if I need to.

He didn't need to. Eventually the door opened, an older boy a foot taller told him to follow. Ree'al followed the boy down a corridor, through a door, and into a large room. The boy stopped at the threshold and motioned for Ree'al to continue on. The Head of the Temple was seated in a large plain wooden chair, with a warrior on his right. Both were intimidating but Ree'al was not unaccustomed to large intimidating men. He walked to within 6 feet of them and bowed.

"Well, young student, what did you learn this morning?" the Head of the Temple asked Ree'al.

Ree'al raised his head and looked straight into the man's eyes. "I have learned that to be a warrior I must be stubborn."

The man nodded his head slowly. "Your training has begun. You will get out of training what you put into it," he said. "Now go eat lunch."

After Ree'al had left the room with the older boy the warrior spoke, "He will have a hard time of it."

"Sometimes that's yields the best results."


Ree'al rose when Tarsus returned from lunch. Tarsus was holding a small canvas sack. He tossed it to Ree'al.

"Here is your lunch, swordsman. Were you able to meditate or are your thoughts still outside of your control?"

"I can meditate Sword Master," Ree'al answered.

"Then eat your food. After you have stretched, you can show me your stances."

The sack held a small amount of bread, cheese, and sausage, enough to stave off hunger but not so much that Ree'al would be likely to become sick. After a dipper of water, Ree'al began to stretch.

Tarsus expressed disappointment with all of Ree'al's stances, most were greeted with "too weak" or "too narrow." Tarsus corrected the stances and explained some of the corrections, a generous gift. Few Masters ever explained why things were done the way they were. Ree'al took what knowledge Tarsus would give him.

"Enough swordsman!" Tarsus exclaimed. "I can't watch you struggle any more today. No whoring and no drinking tonight. Maybe if you had a clear head you could actually look like a swordsman. Try it tomorrow just to see."

"Thank you, Sword Master," Ree'al said with a formal bow. His body was exhausted and his confidence was shaken for the first time in many, many years.

"Sword Master?" Ree'al asked.

"Yes."

"Tomorrow evening I am to have dinner with Lady Apala."

"I have no need to know of your dalliances."

"Of course not, Sword Master. Can you tell me when we might be finished tomorrow so that I can tell her that I'll be late?"

"Why don't you leave the Lady alone and sleep with your whores?"

"Not all the women I bed are whores, sword master." Ree'al thought of Rose and his temper began to swell.

Tarsus met Ree'al's glare with a calm stare. "Perhaps not," Tarsus said. "Why are you interested in Lady Apala?"

"She knows things I would like to know," Ree'al stated as he struggled to control his temper.

"A wise man knows more than just the sword," Tarsus said. "You will be finished an hour before sundown tomorrow, if you work hard."

"Thank you, Sword Master."


"Ree'al! You're not fun. What's the matter with you?" Darsonus was halfway on his travel from sobriety to inebriation.

"My food is boring, the inn is boring, even these ladies are boring. Dar let me eat in peace."

Darsonus and Ree'al sat in the main hall of the Royal Inn. It was as garishly decorated as their room was. Yellow and red certainly weren't any royal colors he knew of, not that it mattered. Ree'al was sure that no local royalty had ever come close enough to the inn to even see the faded colors on the sign outside, much less the soot-covered walls inside. The hall sickened Ree'al. The drunken laughter sounded empty tonight. The drunken women looked tired and hopeless. Ree'al would need to be drunk if he going to stay much longer, but not tonight. Tonight he would get out of the smoke early and go to sleep.

Ree'al stood and bowed deeply. "Ladies, Darsonus," he said. "I must study tonight. No, please ladies, no need to get up, even if you could. Dar, I have a dinner engagement tomorrow evening with a wonderful woman. Please don't wait up for me. I won't be waiting up for you tonight."

With that, Ree'al excused himself and climbed the stairs to their room. He lit the large candle by his bed with one he had carried up from the inn table. As he snuffed out the smaller candle he made room for it next to the thin red book that was always by his bed. He removed his swords, setting them on the floor between the bed and the wall. He took off his well-worn boots and set them on the other side of the bed. Then he lay down and picked up the book, bound in fine leather, with pages nearly as thin as gold foil. It had been a gift from his father when Ree'al was named Sword Master. For the first time in well over a year he opened the book and read from it.

 
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