Fifthwind (32 page)

"Get
your things, we're leaving."

There
was no explanation provided for the hasty departure; it was becoming
a routine part of his mentor's method. The small shelter that had
served as their base for only a short time was now to be left behind
for a new and intentionally unknown destination. Fahd Cobalius was
not going to let Ben get too comfortable in his surroundings. It was
a training technique designed to instill a helpless dependency on the
trainer. Ben had gone through a similar routine during his field
training as a young enlistee.

Within
a matter of minutes, he and Fahd Cobalius were running southward
across rough terrain. The day was bright and Ben was well rested and
in good enough condition to keep up with the fast pace that Cobalius
set. The older man was an impressive specimen of physical
conditioning, clarity of mind, and virtuous spirit. Ben was impressed
by this representative of the Fahd and hoped that he could somehow
live up to those standards.

Ben
had spent so much time in the last weeks, cuddled in the comforts of
Kishell Springs, that he had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed the
wilds of the countryside. As they ran, the beauty of the Kreggorian
range on the horizon and the lush green of the forests brought him
back to the years on patrols during the war. Those were hard times,
but good memories. There was nothing quite as refreshing as being out
on the land, and the rhythmic pounding of his boots against the grass
and rock path was soothing to him.

They
continued to run for several miles, and despite how much he was
enjoying himself, he was beginning to tire. Cobalius maintained the
pace he had set from the start effortlessly and with little concern
for Ben's difficulty. Ben was more than slightly self-conscious that
this man of nearly twice his age was in superior physical condition.
Ben huffed between strides, "Where are we going?"

"South,"
Cobalius said.

Ben
waited to hear if Cobalius would offer more, but he did not. He knew
that any more questions would be unwelcome, but he was getting a
stitch in his side and his lungs were starting to burn. "How far
south?"

"Until
we get there."

He
received the answer he had expected; the answer he himself had given
tired soldiers while on long patrols. He should not have assumed
anything less. He understood how this game was played. They would
continue to run until his spirit was broken. Any attempt to endure,
while admired, would only result in harsher trials. Any show of
weakness would likewise be rewarded with harsher trials. Defiance or
arrogance would rightfully receive stiff punishments and could
possibly end his training altogether. Nevertheless, he could not run
much longer and was not about to admit it. He'd rather incur a tongue
lashing than run another step.

In
as unpretentious a tone as possible he asked, "Is there some
hurry?"

"I'd
like to get there before sundown," Cobalius answered without
faltering his stride. Ben's effort to stir a rebuttal had not worked.
Cobalius had apparently seen through the ploy.

Ben
glanced at the mid-morning sun and did not relish the thought of
running for hours. It was not even noon and he was tiring quickly.
Something struck him as odd as he studied the position of the sun in
the mid-eastern sky, and quietly he muttered, "South... if we are
running south and toward the mountains... that would place us in—"

Ben
stopped with wide eyes and glanced back over his shoulder to the
mountainless horizon behind.

"The
Empire of Tania," Cobalius responded in a casual tone. Then, with
no warning, Fahd Cobalius stopped, drew his sword and launched an
attack against Ben with a sweeping overhead arc. The suddenness of
the maneuver, combined with the fluid movements of the highly skilled
swordsman made it unlikely that Ben would be able to react in time.

Ben
dove to the side, feeling the blade pass inches from his head and
down along his shoulder blades to his lower back.

A
second slower, and he'd have been permanently crippled or worse. He
hit the ground rolling and was back to his feet, drawing his sword in
a single motion. He turned with a swift counterstrike, but his sword
passed through empty air where Cobalius should have been.

Ben
spun in a circle, defensively looking for his opponent who was now no
where to be found. Cobalius had vanished.

He
did not drop his guard, knowing that Cobalius would not be too far
away, despite the fact that he was on a bald hilltop with a clear
view in every direction. There was no cover where Cobalius could be
hiding, but of course there was always the Witherscape. The vanished
Fahd had evidently used his ability to Shift, a skill that Ben had
not yet learned.

Ben
was capable of using his Mindsight to view the Witherscape, and once
there, he could then Drift to a fair distance away from his true
body. But, to then transport his physical presence to that remote
location was beyond his ability.

The
third of the Fahd skills, Shifting, was a very valuable skill indeed.
With such a skill, it would be possible to cover great distances in
very short periods, eliminating the need to run anywhere, not to
mention being a very effective means of escape or retreat. Cobalius
had just demonstrated that point in expert fashion. Ben calmed his
wandering thoughts and tried to think clearly. There was always a
solution to any given problem, it was just a matter of correctly
defining it.

Ben's
discovery that he had been taken to the vast Empire of Tania was a
disheartening. There were some things he could never change, and his
hatred of Tanians was one of those things. He would never know Fahd
Cobalius' intentions. Either Ben would die before finding out, or
Cobalius would fall to Ben's sword and never have the chance to
explain himself. Such was the way of war. Survival was all that
mattered, and was the only thing on Ben's mind.

Cobalius
would still be nearby in order to observe Ben's actions, so there had
to be a way to find him, or at least draw him out of his hiding
place. First, Ben needed to improve his awareness of his
surroundings, so he closed his eyes and let the gray shroud of the
Witherscape overtake him.

Instantly,
the hairs on his neck stood on end and he reflexively sidestepped
just as Cobalius' blade hit the ground where he once stood. He then
completed his turn and parried the predicted secondary slash with a
loud ring of steel against steel that echoed through the muted
landscape. Cobalius held his ground and aptly defended himself as Ben
unleashed a series of sweeping blows alternating from side to side as
he tried unsuccessfully to press forward. The skilled Fahd waited for
Ben to run out of room to maneuver, and then feinted to his right
only to reengage on Ben's exposed left side. Ben's sword found
nothing but emptiness to the right as Cobalius took advantage of the
opening.

Ben
was overextended and completely exposed with little hope of righting
his unfortunate mistake. In a motion that defied human mobility, Ben
shifted his weight to his rear foot and turned the momentum of his
own sword downward toward the exposed thigh of his opponent. It would
be an unexpected and difficult maneuver to defend against. Even if
successfully parried, the attack would still glance into Cobalius'
hip, causing enough damage to end the confrontation.

He
almost regretted the necessity of inflicting harm on Cobalius, but
his would-be teacher had made it clear that this was no longer a case
of instructional swordplay. He faced an enemy of Kreggoria who had
openly attacked without provocation. There was no choice but to
defend himself, even if that meant killing his only means of safe
return home.

Cobalius
surprised Ben by allowing the unsuspected stroke to continue its path
rather than deflect it. Instead, and at the last moment, Cobalius
stepped forward into the blow stealing the momentum of the blade and
letting it strike him with near-harmless force. By moving into the
attack, he had effectively shortened the arc and therefore its power.
Now Ben found himself face to face with Cobalius with the point of an
enemy sword pressed uncomfortably under his chin.

"If
this confrontation had been real, you'd now be dead." Cobalius then
added, "It seems that I've traded a minor leg wound for victory."

The
tone of Cobalius' voice suggested to Ben that the surprise attack had
indeed been some kind of twisted test, and the toothy grin of his
companion drove home the humility of his defeat. Ben stepped back and
acknowledged Cobalius with a slight bow of his head. "Why did you
bring me here? Why Tania?"

"The
completion of your training requires it," said Cobalius, sheathing
his sword. "Do you remember our first law?"

"The
Fahd offer allegiance to no King or country."

Cobalius
grinned in satisfaction at Ben's rapid and correct response. "You
must depart with your loyalties, Ben. The Fahd are above such trivial
things as borders. The land I call home does not make me your enemy.
You will learn that in the coming days here in the Empire."

"And
yet you still attacked me?"

"A
simple test." Cobalius shrugged, "When you realized you were in
Tania, you seemed off guard enough for me to evaluate your skill with
a blade." He winced as he massaged the shallow wound on his thigh.
"Truth be told, if I hadn't opted for the sacrificial sting to my
leg, you'd have beaten me in short order. I've never faced anyone as
swift and clean with a sword. You have tremendous skill with that
thing."

Ben
was well aware of his talent, but did not take the compliment
lightly. "Skilled or not, you bested me. Once again, you've shown
me that focusing on only one goal can limit my options and result in
defeat. Accepting injury to insure victory is a difficult concept to
grasp in the heat of conflict. I'm not sure I could have done that."

"It
parallels our philosophy," Cobalius said. "We must sometimes
concede certain points to ensure victory in the end. We have to be
able to evaluate any situation without the weight of emotion or
personal consideration. Of course, we must keep ourselves alive;
we're not much use to anyone dead, but a matter as trivial as a minor
wound cannot get in the way of making the correct choices. Clarity of
thought is always a valued asset."

Ben
understood this point very well. "Losing the battle is sometimes
necessary to win the war. It's a simple concept, but one difficult to
grasp when you're looking at a sword coming at you. Instincts tend to
take over when things heat up and self-protection is a hard thing to
intentionally overlook."

Cobalius
nodded, "Had I been able to match your skill, I would never have
taken that route."

Ben
sheathed his sword and paced a short distance away from Cobalius. He
was in no position to make demands, but he still felt that time was
running out for Kishell Springs and his friends there. At every
opportunity, Cobalius had hinted at the need to let the town fall in
the interest of eventual victory. For Ben this would never be an
acceptable option. He needed to acquire whatever skills Cobalius
could teach him, and he needed to do so quickly. He looked Cobalius
squarely in the eye and said, "Teach me to Shift."

Cobalius
pointed down the hillside to a farmhouse that sat alone in the
distance. The small dwelling was built in the typical Tanian mountain
style with a harshly sloping roof and shuttered windows set higher
than normal to account for snow drifting against the structure's
sides. Winter had not yet found this side of the Kreggorian range,
but soon this valley would be waist deep in snow. A thin plume of
wispy smoke wafted from the chimney, and a figure worked outside
splitting wood in preparation for the coming months.

"Your
first lesson awaits," Cobalius nodded. "Come with me."

The
two men made their way down the hill and to the grassy meadow below.
The small wooded dale was fertile and was supplied with water from a
tiny meandering stream that trickled from a series of terraced pools
as it sought lower ground on the far end of the valley. A covered pen
housed several pigs and a dozen woolly sheep; wider pastures would
have to wait for spring.

As
they neared the home, a woman emerged from the doorway and pointed
out the approaching strangers to the woodchopper who could now be
seen to be an aged man. He then, in turn, sent the woman back inside
and with ax in hand, turned to greet his visitors. He patiently
waited until Cobalius and Ben came before him.

With
a noticeable stiffening of posture and a determined wringing grip
against the ax handle, the old man spoke, "We have nothing of
value, please leave."

Cobalius
bowed deeply. "Winter is not far off, have you stocked your
supplies sufficiently?"

"I
have nothing for you!" the man restated, but more sternly than
before.

Cobalius
waved off the aggressive remark, "By my estimate, you'll be
snowed-in within a week. You have harvested tubers still under canvas
tarps that need to be moved inside before the ground freezes, and
your wood pile is hardly enough to last through the coldest months.
At least one if not two of your pigs should be slaughtered, salted
and in your cold cellar by now. You will not have time to do these
things alone. We can help you."

The
man lowered the ax cautiously. He eyed Ben from toe to head and then
did the same with Cobalius. "I can offer nothing but food and
shelter for your efforts, we have no valuables."

Cobalius
nodded respectfully. "We'll provide our own shelter on the
hillside, and we'll hunt for our own food. Your animals are safe from
our stew pot. Your winter needs will be met before we move on. I am
Fahd Cobalius."