The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (4 page)

Natalie nodded, as if she had expected it.

“The field is then broken down to those whose job it is to defend the flag and those who seek out the enemy flag. Our defenders will be myself, Damien,
Lydia and Lisa.”

He laid out four pieces that looked like shields across the table, just in front of the owl piece.

“Is that enough?” Charlie asked anxiously. “Aren’t they going to all-out attack?”

“We will be able to deal with it – for a while,” Will said. He gave a sudden smile. “To be honest, I’d be more worried about yourself, Charlie boy. Because
you and Ben will be our only attackers, responsible for capturing the enemy flag.”

William threw out two pieces carved out as swords up towards the centre of the table.

Charlie tried to talk, choked, and then tried again. “Are you serious? You want me as an attacker? I know I’m not an expert at spellstrike, but that sounds
like a horrible idea. Don’t you have to be fit and good at spellshooting?”

“Yep,” William said, now grinning.

Charlie shook his head slowly, incomprehensibly. “I’m sorry, I must be missing something. I seem like the least likely person to retrieve the enemy’s
flag.”

“On the face of it, yes,” William said. He thrust a finger in the air. “But – Ben will need someone with him; he hasn’t a chance by himself. You never
start an attacker alone. And you have a relationship with Ben that is something we couldn’t forge with any of the others in just two weeks.”

Charlie appeared lost for words, and looked about for support.

“Plus, if we’re going to waste someone attacking their flag, it might as well be you,” Lisa said, grinning.

Charlie nodded. “Ah, that makes more sense. Thanks.”

“That leaves one last position – the hyena.”

Will chucked a hyena piece casually onto the table.

“The hyena’s job is to basically cause mayhem, and has a licence to go anywhere and do anything. That position will be filled by Simon, who has a lot of
experience playing the hyena with his local team. Simon, I don’t normally say this, but I want you to cause absolute havoc.”

Simon straightened himself in the chair and grinned impishly. “That’s what I do best, Captain.”

“I’ve heard good things about you from your coach,” William said. “So I’m expecting you to take at least a couple of Aaron’s team down.”

“Easy,” Simon said, waving his hand.

“Good. Lastly, each team gets a darzel to ride,” William said. He placed a figure of something resembling a winged crocodile next to the four defenders.
Lisa will ride the darzel and give us some air support when needed. Any questions?”

Charlie immediately raised his hand.

“Sorry, yes. What happens if – as I envision – they all come charging at us straight away? Aren’t we going to be pinned down and subsequently shot to
pieces?”

“No,” Will said immediately. “Our starting positions are sufficiently far enough apart from our opponents that it would take them at least ninety seconds of
sprinting to reach our area. You and Ben will have that time to get out of their firing range and find your own way into their territory, without getting
shot.”

Charlie seemed to pale. “This game just gets worse and worse.”

There were several more questions thrown at Will, who answered each of them well, even those thrown in anger from Lydia. Damien, who had sat silently the
whole time up until now, asked a couple himself, and Ben was surprised how intelligent they were.

After half an hour of what seemed like hard work, with Ben trying to absorb everything, they called it a day.

“See you all at 6pm, at the Taecia battleground,” Ben said, as they filed out the room.

Ben, Charlie and Natalie were last to leave.

“I thought that went quite well,” Ben said cheerfully.

“William seems like he knows what he’s talking about,” Natalie agreed. “I’m just worried about lack of practice. Spellstrike is a real team game, and we’ve
done hardly anything; whereas Aaron’s team train every day at world-class facilities.”

Ben put an arm round Charlie and Natalie. “Well, that will change. William is going to knock us into shape.”

*

That evening, they left the Institute and headed on foot towards the Taecia spellstrike stadium. The air was cool and refreshing, and there were plenty of
people about, either travelling home from work or perhaps heading towards their local tavern. There was a pleasant atmosphere, which was becoming
increasingly rare with the threat of the dark elves. Even in Taecia, home to the Royal Institute of Magic, people didn’t feel truly safe, though Ben knew
it highly unlikely they would ever get a direct attack – he had heard the place was better magically protected than most royal households.

Their journey took them away from the town centre, where things became increasingly sparse. They found themselves on a well-worn path, lined with
occasional houses and surrounded by farmland.

“I’m going to be worn out just getting there,” Charlie said.

“Maybe we should have hired a few darzels for transport,” Natalie agreed.

“We’ll know for next time. We’re almost there now – look,” Ben said, pointing directly ahead.

A large archway spanned across the path, draped with a colourful banner, which said “Taecia Spellstrike Stadium”. Beyond the banner, a large oval stadium
came into view. Even in the fading light, it looked an impressive feat of construction, built of concrete and sand. Ben estimated the size to be similar to
an average football stadium, but, unlike a football stadium, he could see giant trees sticking out from within.

Ben, Charlie and Natalie walked through the main entrance into the stadium, trying to take everything in at once.

“I can just tell this is going to be death,” Charlie said, as they entered the battleground.

It looked similar to the one on Aaron’s estate, only smaller. The playing field looked like a crazy obstacle course, combined with a gigantic treehouse.
There were man-made hills, houses in which to hide, mini castles and thick bushes. Then there were the huge trees, linked with roped bridges and platforms.
At either end of the battleground was a really tall tree, with a lookout platform near the top.

“Ah – our final team members have arrived,” a friendly voice said.

William, Damien, Lydia, Lisa and Simon were gathered near the centre. William was waving them over.

“This place is great,” Ben said.

“It’s small,” Lydia grunted, giving the place a resentful look.

“It’s fine for what we need,” William said. “We’re not trying to become professional spellstrike players – we’re just trying to develop some team
relationship.”

Ben longed to climb the trees and walk the roped bridges, but he forced his attention back to William.

“So, what’s the plan?” Ben asked.

“Spellstrike relies heavily on fit players – players with stamina who can run, jump and sprint,” William said.

Charlie groaned. “I don’t like where this is going.”

William cracked his knuckles, and gave them all a grin that even Ben didn’t like the look of.

For the next half an hour, William made them run, climb trees, and squeeze through tunnels again and again. Natalie excelled; Ben found that he, Simon and
Lisa were at a similar level; and then lagging behind came Damien, Lydia and Charlie. By the end, they all lay on the grass, breathing heavily, their
bodies caked in sweat.

“I can’t go on,” Charlie said. His arms and legs were sprawled in a star shape, his face flushed bright red and his stomach heaving up and down.

“We’ve just started,” William said with a grin. “Grab your spellshooters – it’s time for target practice.”

William poked a series of targets on stakes into the grass, and then handed them each a dozen pellets. “An important part of shooting in groups is to make
sure you aren’t all shooting at the same person. You each need to focus on someone different, to maximise damage and to bring down the enemy as quickly as
possible.”

Over the next hour, they turned from a coordinated mess to something resembling cohesion, as they shot down target after target. Ben was so engrossed in
the exercises he completely lost track of time, so it came as a great surprise when William gave a little blow of his whistle.

“That’s all for today, team,” William said. “Same time tomorrow.”

Ben swallowed his disappointment and, to his surprise, saw Charlie do the same, as they packed up and slowly left for home. Ben saw several darzels slither
down the trees, and slink their way to his team mates. Within moments, they had hopped on the winged crocodiles and were flying out of the stadium, leaving
Ben, Charlie, Natalie and William alone. William was also on a darzel, but instead of shooting off, he joined them.

“I thought that went well,” Ben said.

William, who was already imposing, looked even more so standing on the darzel.

“It’s a start, yes,” William said. “We have potential. If we had three months, I could turn us into a good team.”

“But we don’t have three months,” Charlie pointed out. “We’ve got two weeks.”

“Have you seen Aaron’s team play?” Ben asked.

“Yes. They are good. Right now they’d flatten us in less than fifteen minutes, which in spellstrike terms is a mauling.”

Ben could just imagine Aaron’s face should that happen. He would be outwardly gracious in victory of course, but he would make comments, disguised as
harmless jokes, intended to squash Ben still further.

“We have two weeks. We’ll get better,” Ben said, staring into the distance with a grim expression.

During the next week, they improved dramatically, slowly turning from a bunch of individuals into a team that looked as though they might have played the
game before.

As the time to the spellstrike game drew near, the pressure started to build. In the lunch rooms and the corridors, talk of the game started to become more
common than the dark elves. Ben hadn’t realised how many people were into spellstrike. It seemed even more popular than football, and Ben heard all sorts
of strategy talk, much of it over his head. One thing was abundantly clear, though – there weren’t many people backing them to win.

“I think Aaron’s side will destroy them inside fifteen minutes…"

"…my guess is they’ll just rush and overwhelm Ben’s team.”

“William is a good captain, though; I bet he’ll set them up to hold out as long as possible.”

"…Ben and Simon are hotshots, so they could spring a surprise.”

“Charlie, I’ve got twenty pounds on you being the first player to get shot. Don’t let me down.”

Charlie’s face flushed and he quickened his pace.

“Don’t let it affect you,” Ben said, as they headed up to the Diplomacy simulation room.

“Easy for you to say,” Charlie said. “You don’t get hounded every day.”

“Sure I do,” Ben said. “At least once a day someone tells me we’re going to get crushed. It’s become part of my daily routine. But as long as we keep
practising and getting better, I think we’ll surprise a few people.”

But their practice sessions hit a hitch on the final week before the spellstrike game. The eight of them had taken to travelling to the battleground
together – team bonding, William claimed – riding on darzels to get there. As they approached the stadium, Ben noticed a light coming from within.

“That’s not normal, is it?” Ben said.

William was frowning. “No, it’s not. The Taecia youth team gave us use of the battleground from 6pm to 8pm. There shouldn’t be anyone in there.”

Ben had a bad feeling even before they passed through the entrance and into the stadium.

“Another lap – go!”

Ben felt a stab of anger the moment he clocked the voice.

Aaron turned as they entered the battleground, a smile plastered over his sickeningly flawless face.

“Ah, Ben, William – there you are. I was told to expect you,” Aaron said.

Ben quickened his pace, eager to impart some of his anger on Aaron, but William beat him to it.

“What’s going on? We have the battleground booked for this time,” William said, squaring up to Aaron. They were a similar height, but William had the
advantage of countless hours at the gym, and it showed.

“You’re quite right,” Aaron said, seemingly unfazed. “However, this week we booked it in. I felt my team needed to train in a different battleground. This
one might be small, but it gives us a different set of challenges to work with, don’t you agree?”

“Whether I agree or not is irrelevant,” William said. “We had this battleground booked. I spent several hours convincing the Taecia management team to give
us this time. So I need you to leave –
now
.”

Ben enjoyed the way William emphasised that last word. But still, Aaron remained unconcerned. He raised a finger.

“You
had
an agreement,” Aaron said. “But that agreement has changed.”

Aaron turned and called a name. A bald-headed, suited man stepped out of the shadows, looking slightly flustered.

“Mr. Ackney,” Will said with surprise. “What’s going on here?”

“Ah, William, my boy, I’m sorry,” Mr. Ackney said. He sounded anxious, and his eyes were lined with worry. “I received word this morning from the Taecia
spellstrike board – the deputy chairman no less. He instructed me to give Aaron’s spellstrike team this slotted time, effective immediately.”

William frowned. It was a look that would have scared a braver man than Mr. Ackney, who flinched, and took a step back.

“I am sorry, William; there was nothing I could do,” Mr. Ackney said.

William maintained his stony stare. “You could have told them you had already made an agreement and you weren’t willing to break your word.”

Mr. Ackney went red, and thrust out his chest, anger fuelling his courage. “Do not insult my integrity, William. It was only down to me that your misfit
team got to train here in the first place. You should be grateful.”

“Oh, I am grateful,” William said, raising a fist. “Do you want to see how grateful I am?”

Ben saw the danger and stepped in, just as Aaron did the same, pulling the two apart.