The Talented Read online

  “Do you think he is a threat because he is a soldier?” Lady Chessing asked. “A bit hypocritical of you.”

  Elder Rynn looked irritated by them both. “We do not consider this man to be a threat at this time,“ Elder Rynn told Adrienne in his calm, dry voice.

  Adrienne looked at the stranger again and thought that he just might be the most dangerous man she had ever seen. Sleek as the jungle cats to the south, he stood just as stealthily, watching her and the rest of the room with an unreadable expression.

  The weapon that the man held, though unfamiliar to Adrienne, was reminiscent of a spear. The butt of it rested on the ground, but the iron tip which came up to his shoulder was more long-bladed dagger than spear-tip. Though the weapon was strange to Adrienne, the man held it like an extension of himself, much the way Adrienne wore her sword.

  “Perhaps he’s not a threat,” Adrienne said, “but if my suspicions as to why he is here are correct, I should have been informed. I am the only other soldier in Kessering.” Adrienne had been awaiting the arrival of another soldier since her first day in Kessering, when she had been told other parties had been sent out to bring back soldiers as well. But she had expected a soldier from another camp, or maybe even a soldier from King Burin’s army, not one of the legendary M’bai.

  She knew of the M’bai only through stories, but what she had heard of the mysterious tribesmen of the Modabi Mountains had only served to increase her curiosity. Tales said they were giants; that they could disappear in one shadow and reappear in another; that they were not human at all but something more. Whatever the truth about the M’bai was, Adrienne could see for herself that this stranger was no ordinary man.

  “We would have contacted you when and if we deemed it appropriate,” Elder Rynn said. “We have only just begun our interview process, and have not yet decided if he will qualify.” The way Elder Rynn stared at the man, eyes cool and remote in his wrinkled face, sent a shiver down Adrienne’s spine.

  “Then I ask to be allowed to stay for the interview process,” Adrienne said. “I may be able to offer insights.”

  “You may stay,” Elder Rynn said, ignoring Lady Chessing’s strangled gasp of outrage. “However, you will remain silent. If you speak out of turn, you will be removed from this room immediately. Understood?”

  Adrienne nodded and saw Ben let out a relieved sigh.

  “This interview will now proceed.” Elder Rynn focused his attention on the tall M’bai man. “What is your name?”

  “Malokai Kyzeka.” Malokai’s voice was like dark velvet, deep and smooth.

  “How long have you been a soldier?”

  “I am not a soldier.”

  There was murmuring amongst the commission members, and the scholar who had brought Malokai before the commission leapt to explain. “The M’bai do not have soldiers the way we do,” he said quickly, his hands grasping each other at his waist. “He is one of their best fighters, however. I was assured of this fact before I brought him.” The man’s words tripped over each other as he rushed to defend himself and his choice of soldier—warrior.

  Elder Rynn held up a hand to halt any further explanations from the eager scholar. “You can fight?” he asked Malokai.

  “Anyone can fight,” Malokai responded.

  Elder Rynn scowled, causing the brackets around his mouth to deepen so that they looked like gouges carved into charred wood. “I don’t appreciate glib answers,” he told Malokai.

  Malokai’s bland expression never changed. “Anyone can fight,” he repeated. “If you wanted to know if I was skilled, that should have been your question.” His words and tone were lyrical, but they revealed nothing of his thoughts, and there was no sign that he was at all invested in the outcome of this interview. Adrienne wondered who this person was, and why he had agreed to come to Kessering in the first place.

  “Are you skilled?” Elder Rynn asked with mounting impatience. “Have you had formal training?”

  “Yes.”

  Elder Rynn seemed dissatisfied by the lack of elaboration. With an impatient gesture, he motioned Adrienne forward. “You will ascertain his skill level,” he ordered.

  Adrienne knew without testing that Malokai would be well able to handle himself, but she was curious to test her skills against his. “Now?” she asked, looking to the commission for direction. They did not even like to discuss fighting, and she doubted they truly wanted to witness the fight between her and the formidable M’bai warrior. There would be nothing civilized about it, and she doubted that the commissioners like Franklin and Ben were ready to see such a fight.

  “Yes,” the Elder told her. “There is no use continuing until we know he has the requisite skills.”

  Franklin coughed nervously and a few of the commissioners shifted in their seats, but no one dared speak against Elder Rynn, and no one left the room.

  Adrienne turned to face Malokai. She had fought many men, and the idea of sparring with this one should not have frightened her, yet her heart was hammering in her chest. “No weapons,” she told him, unbuckling her sword and scabbard from her belt.

  “As you wish.” Malokai leaned his strange spear-like weapon against the wall. “Would you like me to place my knives aside as well?” he asked. The musical lilt to his deep voice was a surprising sound coming from the serious looking man.

  “No, that won’t be necessary.” Adrienne placed her sword beside Malokai’s spear-like weapon, out of the way of their coming match. Her dagger she kept, though she would not use it in the fight.

  Without a word, it began.

  Adrienne watched Malokai’s feet for a sign that he was slipping into a pattern, his eyes for any sign that he was about to make a move. Still, she did not see the punch that sent her to the ground, her head spinning dizzily from the impact of his fist against her cheek.

  She rolled left on pure instinct and avoided a second blow.

  Adrienne leapt to her feet, blood humming, more alert now than she had been in months. This was not a fight like the one she’d experienced with the marauders, a fight of life or death. This was a test of skill, and it was thrilling in a completely different way.

  He was fast, but no faster than she, and when she faked a punch his instinctive move to block allowed her to land a brutal kick to his left leg. It was not enough to knock him down, but it gave her enough time to plant a hard kick in his short-ribs.

  Malokai grunted satisfactorily but did not double over as a lesser man might—as Adrienne had expected him to do. Instead, he moved forward, surprising her, and even as she danced back he made a chopping motion with his right hand that connected with her shoulder and made her left arm numb.

  Then they were on the floor, each struggling to remain on top, raining blows on each other. Adrienne thrust her hips upward and was able to roll so that the warrior was below her.

  The sound of flesh against flesh mixed with grunts of effort and pain in a way that was purely primal.

  When it was over, Malokai had Adrienne pinned to the floor. Everything ached, her ribs protested every breath, and the taste of blood warned that her lip was bleeding.

  She felt wonderful.

  Malokai’s nose was bloodied, and his right eye was starting to swell, but even through the blood and swelling Adrienne thought she saw a glimmer of respect. It brought a smile to her bloody lips.

  “He’s impressive,” she told their audience.

  “More so than you, it seems,” Lady Chessing said imperiously. Adrienne looked over and saw that, far from the disgust she had expected, there was a light of excitement in the noblewoman’s eyes.

  Adrienne’s focus shifted as Malokai rolled off of her more smoothly than she felt he had a right to move after a round like that, then reached down for her hand. She accepted it and allowed him to help her to her feet.

  For a moment she dismissed the commissioners as unimportant and regarded the strange man seriously. “What rank are you?” she asked.

  “M’bai have no rank,”
he told her, his stunning, surprisingly blue eyes holding hers steadily. “I am an M’bai warrior, not one of you lowland soldiers.”

  Adrienne nodded and turned to face the commission. “Although he may not call himself a soldier, he is a skilled fighter with obvious training and dedication to his craft,” she told them.

  “You didn’t even use weapons,” Lady Chessing said disparagingly, though that light had not yet left her eyes. “Any idiot can roll on the floor and throw punches.”

  “There are many different styles of fighting,” Adrienne patiently informed Lady Chessing and the rest of the commission. “I am sure Malokai is as skilled with weapons as without.” Adrienne looked at Malokai for confirmation, but he was back to staring impassively at the commissioners as though he was not interested in their verdict.

  “I believe we should trust Lieutenant Rydaeg’s judgment,” Ben said, seeming to be happier about her presence at the commission meeting now that she had proven useful. “She has not yet been wrong when it comes to fighting matters.”

  Her relationship with Ben had grown more comfortable since the day she had fought the raiders, but the fact that she was pleased by such a tepid compliment worried her. She had been away from people who truly appreciated her skills for far too long if such a comment could mean so much. “You can trust me in this,” she assured them.

  “In that case, let us continue the interview,” Elder Rynn said.

  The questions the commission asked Malokai about his history, his beliefs, his skills and experiences, were all answered as succinctly and with as little detail as possible. Even at the end of the extensive interview, Adrienne still felt that she knew nothing about him. He had managed to answer all of their questions without revealing anything meaningful about himself. It was intriguing, and it made Adrienne wonder what he was so carefully hiding.

  “Adrienne, you will escort Malokai to the inn,” Ben told her. “I will meet with him this afternoon.”

  “Of course,” Adrienne said.

  She waited to say more until she and Malokai were well away from the library and the prying ears of the commission. “Who are you?” she asked, stepping in front of him so that he had to either stop or run her down.

  “Malokai Kyzeka,” he told her, not looking at all surprised or perturbed by her abrupt behavior. He did look a bit frightening, though, with his eye swollen and blood drying on his shirt.

  “Of the M’bai,” Adrienne added. “A group that no one knows anything about.”

  “We live in the Modabi Mountains,” he said.

  That was about all Adrienne did know about the M’bai. They lived in small tribes in the mountains to the northeast, and although that land appeared to belong to Samaro on maps, in truth the M’bai were largely left to self-rule. Tales of their savagery were rampant on the plains, and some stories painted the M’bai as monsters who snuck down from the mountains to abduct children and decimate crops. Adrienne did not believe these stories, but she thought there must be a reason the M’bai were left alone.

  She wanted to learn the truth about the M’bai, and was about to ask Malokai another question when she remembered that she was supposed to be training the guards. Adrienne had told all of them to continue without her should she ever not arrive for practice, but she didn’t trust that they would.

  “Would you like to help me train the city guards?” she asked Malokai. It would be good to have another person with fighting experience there to help her. He would bring a different view and style to the sessions, just as Ricco and other volunteers had done for Jeral.

  “You were showing me to the inn,” he reminded her, and despite the musical quality to his voice it was clear that he was not interested in more than that.

  “Ben won’t go looking for you until this afternoon,” Adrienne said dismissively. “There is plenty of time.”

  Malokai shook his head. “The inn,” he repeated.

  Adrienne’s mouth tightened. Although she had been mad at the commission for not informing her of Malokai’s presence in the city, she’d still been excited by the fact that she was no longer the only soldier in Kessering.

  What she had not expected was such aloofness and lack of interest on Malokai’s part. “Fine,” she said sharply, increasing her pace as she led him toward the inn. It was irritating that his long legs made it so that he could keep pace with her without effort, and she struggled to control her temper.

  “This is the inn,” Adrienne said, stopping in front of The Golden Trumpet. “Master Inbaum will have a room ready, I’m sure. I should return sometime this evening.”

  Malokai nodded brusquely and headed into the inn, ducking his head so as not to hit it on the low doorframe.

  Adrienne stared at his receding form in disbelief. He had not asked her a single question, not even what her Talent was, despite the fact that Elder Rynn had revealed that she possessed one. With a sound of disgust, Adrienne headed to where the guards should be training. She thought sparring with them three-on-one would be a good way to work out some of her aggression, and after the workout she had just had, it might even present a challenge.

  “Lieutenant!” Flynn called out when she entered the training yard. “We didn’t know if you were coming.”

  Only twenty men were present, and only a few of those were sweating to indicate they had been doing more than standing around. “I have instructed everyone to continue training regardless of whether or not I am present,” she snapped. “Where are the others?” After Malokai’s brush-off she was especially displeased that some of the guards had disobeyed her.

  “They left, Lieutenant,” Edward said. “Charles said that training without you was a waste of time, so he and some of the others decided not to stay.”

  Adrienne’s hands curled into fists, her short nails digging into her palms. Though a fight might be satisfying, it would cause far more problems than it would solve. Luckily, she knew of other ways to get revenge. Maybe none quite so satisfying as bloodying the guards, but certainly less likely to get her into trouble.

  “Three-on-one sparring today,” she announced, knowing the men would enjoy the activity, and that those who had left would be sorry to miss out. “Practice swords, three of you against me.”

  There was an excited flurry of movement as everyone grabbed their practice swords and broke into groups, planning their strategies.

  “Lieutenant?” Flynn asked cautiously as he and two other guards faced her.

  “Yes?”

  “What happened to your lip?”

  Adrienne ran her tongue against the tender inside of the split lip. It stung, but was not nearly as painful as her aching ribs. “I had a warm-up round.”

  ••••••

  Two soft knocks pulled Adrienne forward several centuries. She shook her head in an attempt to orient herself to the room around her. She had been so immersed in reading one of the old journals that she hadn’t noticed the dimming light of the candle burning on the table or the stiffness in her neck. There had been another mention of the Dark Mage, and of an even darker force that gave someone control over the dead.

  Another knock sounded.

  Adrienne was about to call out to ask who was at the door, but reached out with Oneness instead and felt Ben’s unmistakable presence.

  She hurriedly took the journal she had been reading and shoved it under her bed with two other books, then folded down the blanket on her bed so that the books were hidden before crossing to the door.

  “I didn’t know you were coming by,” Adrienne said as she opened the door to allow Ben inside.

  “I want you to talk to Malokai,” Ben told Adrienne. It had been two weeks since the M’bai man had arrived in Kessering to begin his training, and Adrienne did not think he had left the inn at all during that time except to train with Ben.

  Adrienne motioned for Ben to come in and sit down, more amused than upset that his greeting would be a demand. She rarely met with Ben anymore. Her Talent had progressed significantly,
and her abilities with fire were so different from his Talent for memorizing that they hardly seemed related at all. The two of them sometimes discussed theory, and Ben occasionally tried to start a friendly conversation by asking her how training the guards was going, but it was painfully obvious that the only real connection they had was that the commission insisted her training continue.

  When they did meet, it was awkward and uncomfortable for both of them, and the meetings didn’t last long. They had too little common ground, and too much that they could not say to each other. Adrienne often thought, during those awkward meetings, of bringing up the studying that she was doing, but something always held her back. At first she had not understood her reluctance, and had thought it was perhaps a small rebellion to counteract the tight leash the commission had on her.

  She knew it was more than that now. The more she read, the more she learned about what had started the initial conflict between Samaro and Almet. The exact circumstances were still unclear, but she had determined that there had been trouble with the slaves in Almet, and perhaps a fear of slaves had been growing in Samaro as well, though she could not imagine why slaves would be feared.

  And there was the nagging question of who and what the Dark Mage was. He had power, perhaps the horrible power of necromancy, and it was that more than anything that kept her from mentioning any of the history of the conflict to Ben. If he took that information to the commission, would they think that the Talented and their powers might be related to something like the Dark Mage and shut the program down? She wouldn’t risk that.

  “What do you want me to talk to him about?” Adrienne asked.

  “Malokai seems disinterested when it comes to learning,” Ben said. “He may do what he’s told, but he lacks your…enthusiasm for the process.”

  Adrienne remembered her “enthusiasm” as having been a problem for the commission, but apparently the commission found a driven soldier better than an indifferent one. Or perhaps they just wanted Malokai to be more like her in general. Better someone they understood, or thought they understood, than an M’bai savage.