The Talented Page 20
“Yes, that would be good.” Adrienne couldn’t remember ever being so tired after a fight. The first fight in which she had killed a man had been draining emotionally, but this was different. The fight had not been long, yet she felt as though it had taken hours. Usually after a fight there was still adrenaline in her system, boosting her, but now all she wanted was to lie down and sleep. It was more than blood loss. It was using her Talent in that way.
Her leg no longer pained her as it had, but it ached enough to remind her of the recent injury that could have cost her leg, if not her life.
“Come back to the shop with me,” Louella coaxed.
“She can’t go with you just yet,” Ben said, appearing from nowhere. His face was ashen, and he was avoiding looking at any of the bodies. Adrienne was surprised to see him there at all.
“Master Ruthford,” Louella said in her firm healer’s tone, “Adrienne was badly hurt. She needs to rest now.”
Ben looked slightly abashed, but he didn’t back down. “I’m sorry, but the commission has asked to see her immediately.”
“Maybe the rest of the commission should come down here and see what was done, and then they can determine whether what Lieutenant Rydaeg needs right now is a lecture!” Louella said, her voice rising in pitch as her ire grew. Ben’s shoulders hunched up around his ears as he shook his head.
Adrienne was not so tired that she could not feel anger, and that anger bolstered her, giving her the energy she needed to speak. “It’s all right, Louella,” she said, though it was anything but. “I’ll visit you when I can.”
Adrienne followed Ben toward the large library in silence. The streets were filling again, but there was no business being done. The talk was of the violence and death that had come so suddenly to the normally peaceful city. The bodies still lay there, and Adrienne wondered idly who would come to remove them.
People fell silent when Adrienne passed them on the street, watching her warily until she was well past them before resuming their hushed conversations. It was beyond even their usual level of fear, which had dissipated only somewhat in the months she had been in Kessering. She caught snatches of conversation, and realized for the first time that her clothes were covered in blood. There was a rip in the sleeve of her swa’il that she had not noticed, and her now-healed thigh was bared for all to see by the large, bloody tear the sword had made in the leather before reaching flesh. She lifted a hand to her cheek, and it came away wet from blood. The blood wasn’t hers, and she wiped it on her ruined leathers.
To the townspeople, she must finally look the part of the monster they had always imagined her to be. They would have heard by now about how she had used her Talent to kill those men. The fire had just become another weapon, and one they could not defend against or anticipate the way they could a sword. She was surprised that they did not run screaming at the sight of her.
“Don’t pay attention to them,” Ben said, surprising Adrienne. She had not expected any words of comfort from him. He gave her a reassuring look and she felt some of the tension leave her. When they came to the library and Adrienne took her place before the commission, Ben remained at her side in a show of support rather than taking his place at the table. She felt a warm gratitude for him in that moment.
“We have heard about the fight,” Elder Rynn said without preamble. “We also heard that you used your ability against others, resulting in the loss of several lives.”
“I used whatever means were available to take out the men threatening the lives of the defenseless citizens of Kessering,” Adrienne replied. She squared her shoulders and—though it was an effort to stand upright—refused to show weakness by favoring the leg so recently run through with a sword.
“We never gave you permission to use your ability in such a way,” Elder Rynn said, his normally frail voice strong in anger. “The people will panic. There will likely be mass hysteria after this.”
“Better they panic about me now that they are safe than be left to panic under the marauders’ control,” Adrienne argued. “The men who invaded the city had already killed several people before I arrived, and as for using fire…I couldn’t take on all the remaining men alone with just my sword.” She remembered well the feeling, the pain, of an enemy sword tearing into her flesh, and her anger grew as she remembered that the remaining guards of Kessering had stood there doing nothing while she stared down a blade wet with her own blood.
Her eyes were hard and flat as she stared into the eyes of Elder Rynn. “I did what I had to do to keep more people from being killed. To keep myself from being killed.”
“That is why we have guards,” the old man replied, not giving an inch. Lady Chessing smiled, looking as if she was relishing every word.
Adrienne opened her mouth to defend herself, but Ben spoke before she had a chance. “Three of the guards are among the dead,” Ben told Elder Rynn. “And Adrienne was badly injured during the fight. I believe she did what was necessary.”
Elder Rynn nodded. “I had heard that not all of the guards survived,” he said, not asking how Adrienne fared now.
“Three guards dead, and two seriously wounded and unable to help,” Ben told him. “The others had injuries that were less severe: some cuts, a few broken bones which would have hampered any aid they could have provided Adrienne. Only two of the guards were unscathed.” Adrienne was glad that it was Ben speaking, not she. Anything she said to the commission would merely sound defensive.
“Then surely those two healthy young men could have helped even the odds,” Lady Chessing said with a smile. “Especially with the wounded helping where they could. If this…woman had not jumped to such extremes—”
“Reports say those two uninjured guards never tried to fight off the attackers,” Ben said uneasily. “And she did not use fire until after she herself was stabbed.”
Franklin frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“One of the men stabbed Adrienne in the thigh,” Ben told him, gesturing to her leg. The blood soaked leather gave the testimony that the smooth skin could not.
“No, not about her leg,” Franklin said impatiently. “What do you mean about the guards not helping?”
Adrienne wondered if Franklin would have cared about her leg if she had still been bleeding. She shoved the thought aside and returned to Franklin’s question. “The guards froze,” Adrienne said, knowing that Ben wouldn’t know—or be able to explain—what had happened to the guards. “When their officer fell, the remaining guards froze. They were completely unprepared to face an enemy like the one they did today.”
“All of our guards had training.” This time it was Elder Rynn who sounded defensive.
“Not enough,” Adrienne said. “Not for this. They were sloppy. Their skills were minimal, especially when it came to working as a team.”
“That is no way to speak of the dead,” Elder Rynn said. The rest of the commission looked similarly outraged. Even Ben looked uneasy at her harsh words and shifted slightly away from her.
Adrienne thought of the fallen men and felt pity, and she looked into Elder Rynn’s face and felt more. She knew the pain of losing men in battle. But now was not the time to stop and mourn. And it was not the time to soften the truth to protect the dead. It was beyond ridiculous to put the memory of the dead before the welfare of the living. “I am merely stating the truth. The guards here lack the skill and experience necessary to defend Kessering against the bands of outlaws that roam Samaro looking for rich cities to plunder. And the force of guards is much too small.”
“The size of the guard has always been more than adequate,” Elder Rynn told her stiffly. “They handle any trouble that arises in the city.”
“Trouble like thieving and drunken brawls,” Adrienne agreed, “but today Kessering was attacked by a group of men intent on killing, torturing, and looting. Your guards crumbled before them because they were not properly prepared for such an onslaught.”
The commission began to disagre
e, loudly and passionately. Lady Chessing’s shrill voice spoke of exaggeration and barbaric soldiers, Franklin said something about the guards regrouping and “routing the invaders.” Elder Rynn sat quietly, listening, and Adrienne wished she could know his thoughts.
“Adrienne is right,” Ben said, stunning everyone into silence. “There were twelve men, maybe more, who came into the city and started hurting people. Three of our guards died, but they only killed one of the…one of the attackers. If it weren’t for Adrienne, for her skills, for the fact that she used her ability to kill those men before they could kill her, everyone who could have defended the city would be dead,” his voice wavered slightly. “Only the Creator knows what would be happening now, if not for her.”
“It may not have been so bad,” Franklin said. “We cannot know what those men would have done. Had we simply allowed them to take what they wanted—”
“They killed six unarmed men and women and injured others, including defenseless children,” Adrienne said, ruthlessly driving home each point. “These men would have continued to terrorize your people until they tired of Kessering. Then they would have stolen what they could, destroyed what they couldn’t, and left.”
“You don’t know that,” Lady Chessing scoffed, but her dark eyes shifted uncertainly.
“I’ve met men like those that attacked today,” Adrienne told her, told all of them. “I have spent time cleaning up such groups and restoring order to villages that have been ravaged by them.” Memories of Pelarion came to her once again. Rarely had any atrocity haunted her so, but the innocent girl laid in a grave refused to leave her mind, no matter how many months had passed since that day.
“‘Cleaning up,’” Lady Chessing repeated. “A nice way of saying ‘killed.’ Isn’t that what you mean? That you spent time killing groups of men.”
Adrienne raised her chin. “Killing groups of thieves, rapists, and murderers,” she confirmed. “Those that we capture are turned over to the proper authorities for judgment, and are hanged for their crimes. But if we kill them, that action is sanctioned by the government, by King Burin, as part of what is necessary to keep his citizens safe.” Sometimes the king’s name seemed to have an almost magical effect on the commissioners, as if anything the king agreed with was absolutely acceptable. This was not one of those times.
Lady Chessing looked about to respond when Elder Rynn raised his hand. “Violence solves nothing,” he said. “Killing solves nothing.”
“I disagree,” Adrienne said. “I haven’t just come to cities to clean them up; Sometimes I’ve come too late. I’ve watched cities burn. If I prevented that today, if I saved lives today, I believe that solves a lot. “
Elder Rynn shook his head, but again Ben spoke up in her defense. “Adrienne is right,” he said, though he looked uncomfortable supporting her actions in such entirety. “This commission was formed with the purpose of fighting Almet. We must accept that fighting—even killing—is sometimes the only option.”
“We were brought together to end the conflict,” Elder Rynn corrected. “That does not necessarily entail fighting.”
Adrienne suppressed the urge to laugh. An army without a plan was doomed to failure, and she wondered if the scholars on the commission were aware that the more they changed their plans, the more likely the failure of the commission was.
“What would you have had her do today?” Ben asked. “If you could change what Adrienne had done, how would you alter the events? Allow the other guards to be slaughtered, and Adrienne along with them?”
Elder Rynn was silent for a long moment. Whatever he decided, the death of one group would still have been the price of saving the other. “It seems that, despite the crude methods, there was not a better means of dealing with these invaders today,” he reluctantly admitted. “Perhaps Adrienne’s actions were in the best interests of the city.”
“I would like to continue to do what I can to help this city,” Adrienne said as a thought began to take shape in her mind. “You will need to replace the guards lost today, and I would like to train them.”
“Surely the remaining guards should be in charge of the training,” Lady Chessing said, glaring at Adrienne. Adrienne knew she was lucky that it was Elder Rynn, not Lady Chessing, who made the final decisions in such matters.
It was an effort of will that kept Adrienne from telling the woman exactly what she thought of the remaining guards training the replacements. “With their commander dead, that will be difficult,” Adrienne said instead. She did not mention that with how poorly trained the guards had seemed that day, any men trained by them could not hope to be much better.
“I also suggest at least tripling, the number of guards the city has.” Adrienne thought that sixty guards would be a better number than forty, but if she were to ask for so many, she knew she might as well ask for the moons and stars with them for all the good it would do.
“That won’t be necessary,” Elder Rynn told her. “Fifteen guards have always been enough. This attack was an aberration that has been taken care of.”
“Men like those that attacked today will always set their eyes on places like Kessering,” Adrienne argued. “Cities with riches and minimal guards are easy targets. After the outcome of today’s fight, Kessering might appear to be more of a challenge, but soon memories of that will fade. For the long term safety of Kessering, I believe a larger, better trained force will be necessary.”
“I agree,” Ben said. “We should let Adrienne take charge of the guards, and listen to her advice in this situation. It would be the best use of her skills.” It was a logical argument, and most of the scholars seemed to be considering it. Ben looked at Adrienne. “Will thirty guards suffice?”
It was fewer than she wanted, but it was a start. “Yes.”
“You don’t think it will take away from the training time the two of you need?” Elder Rynn asked Ben.
Ben looked between the Elder and Adrienne, who was covered in blood and exhausted from the fight, but still standing there, straight and strong, before the commission. “I don’t know how much more instruction I can give her,” Ben said honestly. “What she can do, what she did today…it was beyond any hopes I had for her abilities. She has exceeded all of my expectations.”
••••••
Training the Kessering guards was different than training the Yearlings back in Kyrog. Adrienne was able to handle and influence the guards new to the post, but the men who had already been guards before Adrienne took over the training were belligerent and unwilling to listen to her instructions.
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Adrienne told the thirty assembled men. “Sheathe your swords.”
“Is this really necessary?” asked one of the guards who had been present when the city was attacked. “We know how to handle swords.” He looked around at the new additions to the city guard. “Well, some of us know.”
Adrienne considered it amazing that any of the guards, new or old, weren’t tripping over their own swords. As a lieutenant at Kyrog, her word had been law, and the penalty for disobeying her had been steep. Here, she had no power over the men she was training except for the meager power some of them gave her. In Kyrog, she would have demonstrated exactly how easily she could disarm him right now. Here, she had to rely instead on her less-honed skills of persuasion.
“Not everyone is at the same level,” Adrienne explained to the guard with a patience she was not really feeling. “I want to train all of you as a unit, from the beginning, until you are all equally capable of using your weapons effectively. Now sheathe your swords, and we’ll start from the beginning.”
She ran them through the basic sword maneuvers, both offensive and defensive, at a slow and controlled pace, remembering almost fondly when she had thought Jeral’s skill was deficient. She had gone to Captain Garrett’s tent full of fire and anger over Jeral’s lack of skill, but even then he had been leagues ahead of these men.
She wished she could train
the city guard as she had Jeral. Instead of practice sheathing and unsheathing swords, Adrienne would start by teaching them to fight without weapons and build their skills from that most basic level. But in this situation, regardless of what she knew to be best, training them as she had trained Jeral was not an option. The existing guards would never have tolerated it, and even many of the new guards would probably balk at the idea of waiting to get trained with weapons for even a few days, let alone months.
Adrienne had the assembled guards increase the speed of the maneuvers, and watched as the careful synchronicity fell apart. Half of them could not follow the correct form at increased speed, and many of those that could were tiring already. “Good,” Adrienne said with false enthusiasm when they completed their forms. “Let’s go for a short run before we break for lunch.”
“Why?” It was the same guard who had questioned her about sheathing their swords—Charles—and Adrienne wished she could assign him to cleaning the mess hall for a week. It was the least of what he deserved.
“To clear the mind,” she told him. She gave him a conspiratorial smile, a we’re-on-the-same-side look. “And to see how the new recruits keep up.”
Charles nodded wisely. “Of course. Test them out.”
Adrienne knew that it would be as much a test for Charles as any of the other men, and the run had never been meant as a test but a way to work on their endurance. She disliked having to turn it into a competition. “Okay, fall in.” She started them off at an easy pace, barely faster than a jog. The men were mostly young, but none of them were used to strenuous physical activity.
Adrienne had devised a two mile loop, and by the end of it many of the men were lagging, a few even stopping to walk and catch their breaths. Charles was one of the latter, and Adrienne could see the anger on his face as he realized he had failed the test. “Let’s break until mid-afternoon,” Adrienne said. “We’ll practice sparring then. Meet back here at three.”