Chapter 4

While he vaguely remembered eating some roasted bird last night, Aden was awake and attentive in the morning. Having learned his lesson yesterday, he began his morning by practicing his forms and his phyzeec. He was pleasantly reminded of the sense of accomplishment when he finished, a sentiment that he had forgotten in the passage of time. The muscle memory was still firm, and his command was still sharp even though he had expected his training to have diminished.

He lost that one all-important battle. Little did he expect that he would lose perspective and a sense of self-awareness along with it. In hindsight, his assumption of dissipation of skills was silly because he was still the same person he was before the race to accession. The body was the same at least, the mind was a bit muddled, he reminded himself.

“You seem much better this morning,” Ezza said as Aden climbed back onto the ledge.

“I am embarrassed to have committed a beginner’s mistake,” Aden said. “I feel like I am learning my craft all over again from the beginning.”

“There is no shame in that,” Ezza said. “Anyone with a set of high skills must learn to sit themselves down and break down their training all the way to the beginning, time and again. Our bodies change, muscles give, and eyes lose their sharpness of youth. An old soldier is one who has gone back to the beginning many times.”

“Wise words,” Aden said, trying to remember if any of his teachers or elders had ever mentioned such an insight. After coming up blank, he decided that it was another small truth that his guild had lost along the way. “Any bird left?”

“Plenty,” Ezza said. “You ate sparingly at our feast last night. You were a lousy cup companion too.”

“There is a worthy goal for the day,” Aden said, “spending my day in the cups.”

He began pulling meat from the bones and stuffing his mouth.

“As much as I have enjoyed this ledge and the view,” Ezza said, “I need to return home. My lord will want a report and my wife will have a new list of chores for me. I cannot decide which one I look forward to least. Imagine that.”

“Compared to the freedom of wandering this empty country, I can see that obligations feel heavy,” Aden said between bites. “However, do not take for granted neither the trust of an employer nor the arms of a welcoming woman, especially since she knows you. A man who has both is rich indeed.”

Ezza chuckled. “You are a strange one. You beat upon yourself with relish yet do not allow others to take the same tack.”

“Why should you make the same mistakes as me?” Aden wiped his mouth on his sleeve and let out a quiet belch. “A fine morning meal that was. A little heavy on the green nettle for my taste although many enjoy that acrid tang, and we are lacking a source of spicy heat.

“I’m wasting both your time and mine,” Aden said. “I cannot remain here, wallowing in my dark thoughts. Should I go to visit the land of your lord Governor or should I disappear back into the ancient woods and seek out the ruins of these dead, defeated soldiers?”

Ezza chuckled. “You did say wizards are stupid. Going deep into the woods is seeking the past and going my way is seeking the future. Haven’t you already had enough of the past?”

“The recent past, to be sure,” Aden said with his own chortle. “Lead the way, my good man. Perhaps I can add a little color to your drab life and make the road a little less weary.”

Ezza finished packing and nodded to Aden. Aden gave a sweep of phyzeec to his recent home and scattered the collected bones, scraps, and detritus into the bushes and the trees. He shouldered his pack. Rolling his shoulder to adjust to the weight, Aden found himself suddenly thrown to the ground. He opened his mouth to protest when Ezza reached over and covered his mouth as he crouched.

Pointing downwards, Aden followed his arm until he caught sight of two figures on the road below who were arguing, waving their arms widely. They were emerging from the woods, the empty woods.

Aden recognized the robes. There is no possibly that some other temple of phyzeec would be using the bright red leathers of the temple guardians. Aden took a close look at their faces and he recognized them. They were The Strong Arm, the practitioners responsible for security. He also knew them as thick and slow because The Strong Arm was the last resort for those who failed to rise in the ranks. These were the types of practitioners with which Brule surrounded himself – loud, menacing, and with a fondness for cruelty.

Why were they out here? Aden grunted once and took a deep breath to calm himself. There was no legitimate reason but there was a good one, nonetheless. Someone had to have sent these two and the only someone could be Brule. Aden stared at his hands wondering if he had the wherewithal to slay a man. The voices were getting louder, and a decision was necessary.

Aden tugged Ezza’s sleeve to get his attention. Pointing to the bow on the hunter’s back, Aden pointed downhill and whispered, “One dead, one disabled. Quickly.”

“I do not get involved in wizard wars,” Ezza said, shifting lower on the rock and loosening his pack. “I only have one life and wizards are too unpredictable. Can’t duck, can’t hide much, and can’t run away. Old soldiers know better.”

“Give me the sword then,” Aden said. “Give me the damn thing and hide in the wood behind me. They seek only me, and they know nothing of this wizard’s sword.”

“It’s a wizard’s sword?” Ezza whispered with sudden pain. “Get the accursed thing off me.”

Aden took the sword in hand. Letting his phyzeec loose a bit, the sword began to warm under his grip. The legend of such swords was still alive and well in the storybooks. They were the singing swords, not meant to slay with the edge of the blade but with the fierce, shaped slice of power. Aden knew himself to be a better practitioner than those two below, but he was not the brawler and fighter they were either. Two against one was always more dangerous, no matter how good the practitioner.

He fed more into the sword and it began to vibrate as if it was alive somehow. Balancing his head on the top his neck in first position, Aden stepped down from the ledge and made his way left, along the forest’s edge.

“There are friggin’ tracks everywhere,” the first one said. “We ain’t like professional trackers or nothin’. How the fuck we gonna chase down this mula rat? Do we know if they are even his?”

Aden listened to the two men argue, trying to glean every possible clue that he could from them. They were not so bright, but they were smart enough to realize that they were out of their element.

“You feel something?” the second one said. “Something big I think.”

“Sonofa...” the first screamed bringing up his arms into the second position of the fighting form as he looked straight at Aden. He did not complete his sentence. His chest, arms and head were instantly separated from his lower body and laying on the road behind him.

His partner let loose a barrage of phyzeec at Aden. Aden scrunched his head between his shoulders as if to duck from the fire as he placed the sword in position between him and his remaining attacker. The rubies flared red and phyzeec fizzled around his frame without touching him.

Aden was not going to give the man a second chance. He lowered the tip of the blade and fired off another salvo. This time his aim took off the legs of his attacker about mid-thigh. The man’s eyes went wide and white for a moment and then all three pieces of the man toppled to the ground like chunks of wood. There was no blood.