The Callindra Chronicles Book One - First Quest (10 page)

“
You’re serious? This is for
me?” For once she didn’t care about the tremor in her voice or the
tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes, “He’s so
beautiful.”

Glarian nodded, “Just make sure you take care
of him. From this day forward he is the last blade you will wield.
As I said, Belach is the finest smith I have ever met and I had him
forge this blade specifically for you. He claims the metal came
from a fallen star and I see no reason to question him. It’s
flexible enough to withstand your power while still being light
enough for you to wield.”

Reaching over his shoulder he drew his long
straight blade and cradled it tenderly in his weathered hands,
“This is Sakar. She is my bonded blade and has carried my honor in
more battles than I care to recall. The thing that sets us apart
from mere swordfighters is this bond; we choose to limit our study
of swordplay only to one unique weapon and that gives us power that
they shall never experience. Instead of begging a God for favors
like members of Holy Orders or simply relying on our minds to
manage the Weave like Mages do we are able to truly harness the
power that changes the world.

“
For you and I, the element
of air is strongest, although I have found other para-elements that
respond favorably also. Take care though, if you lose or break this
sword, you will lose your power and likely break your
spirit.”

“
All those weapons…”
Callindra’s voice trailed off. There must be two score broken
swords, whips, axes and daggers hanging on the wall in the other
room. “You took that from all those challengers?”

“
Yes.” He watched her
intently over the bowl of his pipe, “But I spared their lives. They
may fight on and find another way to channel their power or they
may give up and live mundane lives. You are the first person I have
encountered who has such an affinity with the weave that it forces
itself upon you.” His voice fell almost below her hearing, “None as
misfortunate as you.”

“
I swear this to you now
Master Sol’Estin. I shall master both swordplay and blademagic!”
Her eyes glowed with imagination, “With you as my instructor and
this sword in my hands there is absolutely no way I can
fail.”

She felt the winds swirl around her, catching
the ragged ends of her hair and making the edge of her shirt
ruffle. With a flourish she kissed the flat of the blade as she had
read of in a book titled The Swordsman’s Creed and after a sudden
gust that blew dust into a swirling cone in the corner the breezes
that had teased her for days dissipated. Once they quieted, she
realized just how continuous their presence had been and their
absence was most disconcerting.

“
Now that you have accepted
your abilities and chosen your sword, you have the ability to
actually accomplish that goal.” He smiled, “I will hold you to that
promise Callindra.”

She had the distinct feeling that he had
training in mind that would make the training she thought of as
intense and rigorous seem as a stroll through the meadow on a
summer afternoon.

Chapter 9

As Glarian deftly parried a clever strike
incorporated into a tight series of feints Callindra called “Oak
Leaf Falls” he had to admit she was getting good. He disapproved of
her habit of adding unnecessary actions to attacks, but it did add
a personal touch to her style and she was now finally able to do it
smoothly without causing her to fumble her weapon like it had in
the past. “Well done, that’s enough shoulder strikes, let’s do some
work on your parry/riposte patterns.” He was taken aback at the
sudden wolfish grin on her face.

“
I have been working on
something; let’s see if I can pull it off.” He moved in swiftly in
to attack using the first Stance which instead of parrying she
smoothly sidestepped, sword moving in a shining arc that would have
disemboweled him had the edge and tip not been covered with
blunting. At the last second she missed her footing and nearly fell
when her left leg buckled under the unforeseen pressure. In spite
of the mistake she still looked at him proudly and he realized that
this was the first time she had ever scored a hit on him… even when
they were practicing the basic Stances.

“
Very good Callindra, how
did you think of using that type of strike?”

“
I’ve been reading The Dance
of Blades by Klaret Teria. He wrote of a legendary skill he called
Atonement that he described as ‘Showing the opponent the price of
Failure.’ The idea being to wait until your foe makes a mistake and
take advantage of it. I’m not sure if I could do it against an
opponent whose moves I didn’t have memorized or not though. It
would be much more difficult but I want to keep practicing
it!”

“
I can help you but you must
be careful. The skill is also called a counter-strike and although
it is not well known these days I had nearly mastered it before I
left The Order. Keep in mind it was a counter-strike that ended the
life of Klaret; never underestimate your opponent’s
abilities.”

Glarian’s belief that training this girl was
his destiny was only strengthened. She had managed to figure out
the rudiments of how to counter without any formal instruction… a
skill that he himself was one of the few custodians of. It had to
be the Fates taking a hand; things were in motion in the world that
could not be stopped.

He was having to push Callindra harder than
he would like but without finishing her training she would be
unable to defend herself. To his surprise and relief she seemed to
be rising to the challenge, even going as far as to assign herself
extra training when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Glarian knew The Order wasn’t going to keep
taking the information Thaeran was feeding them forever. Even if
they knew him to be a bit on the slow side there was no way that
he’d bought more than a few months’ time.

The Inquisitors who would be sent next would
be much less tolerant, much better trained and far more difficult
to deceive. He would likely be reduced to killing them and with the
storm he felt was brewing far on the horizon not one single life
could be needlessly expended. Misguided and arrogant though The
Order might be they could not help but oppose the chaos and
destruction he knew was coming.

“
Excellent work Callindra.
One more set and we shall have our afternoon run.” Glarian had
taken to running with her; he needed to increase his endurance as
well. After all, the coming storm cared not if those it raged over
were young or old. All would be consumed in its path if all did not
stand in its way.

“
This time show me what you
know of this counter-strike. I want to study and master it as
well.” She smiled, an expression that lit her face like a sunrise.
“Every time I think I’ve learned something you show me how to take
it one step further.”

Glarian wasn’t sure how to respond, so he
took refuge in what he knew. “Get a drink of water apprentice. We
leave as soon as you’re ready.”

As they ran Glarian began drilling her on the
finer points of swordplay, “What is the optimal striking edge?”

“
The last three inches
towards the tip, moving to the last half inch as the strike
completes.”

“
Why do you make the cut
more shallow the further you slice.”

“
To prevent the blade from
getting stuck. So you can follow up with another if needed or guard
against a counter.” She replied without even having to
think.

“
What is the proper counter
for the Sixth Strike?”

“
The Tenth Strike, or step
in far enough that the swing is ruined.” She said.

They had reached the stream and she leaped
from rock to rock, crossing ahead of him. If he hadn’t known better
he would swear she was keeping her footing by magic. Well at least
he didn’t have to worry about that leg anymore; although the bone
wasn’t exactly straight it didn’t look like it was giving her any
trouble.

He considered her answer to his last question
as he crossed behind her, imagining what would occur if one stepped
inside the wide, gut-level slash of the Sixth. If you were quick
enough it just might work, but if you weren’t it would be a death
sentence.

“
I wouldn’t try gliding in
on most opponents. A larger blade is going to give you more ground
to cover and a smaller one will be moving swiftly. If you weren’t
fast enough you’d likely be sheared in half.” He said.

Callindra glanced over her shoulder and gave
him an impish grin, “That’s why I would wait until the attack had
begun and then leap over the blade, coming down in the wake of the
strike and bringing my sword down on my opponent’s outstretched
arms!” She jumped over a low-hanging branch that blocked the trail,
drawing her sword and spinning to neatly slice it off less than an
inch from the trunk.

“
Impressive, I will admit
that much. Those kinds of antics will get you killed on a
battlefield though. Save the flashy tripe for exhibitions or for
when you need to scare off a crowd of untrained ruffians in a town
square. Although I wouldn’t recommend killing in a town; constables
tend to frown on unexplained bodies.” Glarian tried to frown
sternly but luckily she was already turning to continue running
down the trail, smoothly sheathing the sword over her shoulder and
missed his failed attempt at strictness.

“
Everyone will know who I am
one day Master. They will have heard of Callindra, the greatest
swordswoman who ever put hand to hilt!” Her voice rang with
excitement and she gave him a beaming smile over her
shoulder.

“
I hope that is not the case
apprentice, for if you have notoriety then you always have to face
down idiots who think they know how to swing a sword. If you want
my advice, simply be content with knowing your own skill, use it
when you must and maintain a modest demeanor whenever
possible.”

“
Easy for you to say Old
Man!” Her temper flared and he could see the Weave pulling breezes
about her body in response. She really was quite odd. “You carry
two paces of steel and swing it around like it’s a twig! I’m just a
slip of a girl who could be mistaken for a slightly feminine boy,
for me a modest demeanor means letting others walk all over me. Or
worse.”

“
Nay, most who see a man
with a sword this size believe he has something to prove. Many of
them decide they want to find out what. Being a man makes it
difficult to be unobtrusive and carrying a blade this large makes
it impossible. Often, a polite and civil bearing is your greatest
weapon when upholding the First Oath.”

“
Battle shall always be my
last resort.” She dutifully repeated.

“
My honor belongs to those
weaker than myself.” He stated the Second Oath.

“
The edge of my sword stands
against the Unlawful.” She continued.

“
Always seek peace,
equilibrium in the world mirroring the balance of my blade.”
Glarian said.

“
The wind blows impartially
on sea and wildfire, on forest and mountain, bringing the seasons
to pass. I am as the wind.” They said together, then Glarian
continued alone, “And The North Wind names me Master.”

They ran for a time in silence, Glarian
pleased to see that she was not fighting for breath even after
speaking the Four Oaths and Benediction of the Wind. She was
beginning to increase the capacity of her lungs, something she
would rely on heavily in a fight.

When she ran into a small clearing ahead of
him, he shouted, “Defend yourself!” and drew Sakar, launching a
vicious attack.

Callindra spun, drawing her sword, barely
able to parry in time. With a smile of pure enjoyment, she threw
everything she had into the fight. As they sparred, Glarian began
to notice small bursts of Weave being channeled through her body to
erupt from her sword. With a series of tightly controlled swings he
managed, with difficulty, to ground her blade and knock her off
balance by slamming his shoulder into hers.

“
Well fought Callindra, now
back to the house double time.” He said, sweeping Sakar back into
her sheath and running at a much faster pace back the way they had
come.

Soon she would need to leave, to make herself
anew, to forge a union with her sword and give him a name. Her
power grew every day and unless she managed to Bond her blade it
would consume her. He had seen a Blademage who had been unable to
bond a weapon once before. The unfortunate man was forced to
performing the Second Korumn more and more often in order to
relieve the pressure of building power inside. Eventually, it was
nearly continuous for him; the weave barely allowing him time to
eat.

The end was abrupt and brutal, exhaustion
causing him to make a fatal misstep. One mistake followed another
and the Power that ran through him first claimed the blade he was
wielding and then his own body. His power was a candle beside the
raging bonfire that Callindra commanded, but even so it had torn
him into bits too small to be recognizable.

Glarian decided he would instruct her in the
first of the true spells she would be able to use. It was dangerous
to do so without the Sigil that would one day be integrated into
the pommel of her sword, but it would give her a head start once
she and her sword established their final rapport.

-

The explosion burned the hilt of her sword
into her palm through the leather gloves she wore and Callindra let
off a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush. The
spells seemed to fail as often as they succeeded and the failures
were always painful. Carefully sheathing her sword she removed the
tatters that remained of her gloves and reached gingerly into her
belt pouch for a container of salve.