CHAPTER 8

  THE TEST BEFORE THE TEST

  Over the next few weeks Rodregas, Doi’van and Imeralda fell into a regular routine. It quickly became clear that while Imeralda might not be a trained mage, she was far more knowledgeable than Doi’van or Rodregas in magic. So, while Rodregas often led the training in the morning, she led during the afternoon.

  Rodregas thought Doi’van was learning far more quickly than any of the squires that he had trained with as a teenager. Doi’van looked like a daemonic nightmare, and he clearly loved to test his strength in battle, but he was an amazingly quick learner both with the forms and with the books. Even though Doi’van could not read, Rodregas would read him some of the Grimoires, since they were the only books they had. His insights and questions were insightful, and Rodregas realized that Doi’van’s intellect was greater than his own.

  Two weeks into the routine the three were starting to get into the rhythm; they had moved into the old house and for not having a roof, it was pretty comfortable. Though they had all claimed rooms of their own, they were all still sleeping in the living room, partly because of the fire they kept there and partly for the company.

  They were surprised with visits by the two Dire Cats on a regular basis. The first evening, when they were settling into the night, the two cats casually walked through the door. The three of them froze while the two cats just sprawled out in casual comfort close to the fire.

  One of the cats (Rodregas had not been able to tell the two apart yet) stretched over and started to rub her chin against Rodregas’ leg. The power behind its head was such that it almost knocked him over. He had seen small house cats make similar gestures, but it was disconcerting to have two powerful predators such as the Dire Cats being so friendly.

  “I guess this means we are part of the pride,” said Imeralda, slowly reaching over and giving the other cat a tummy rub. Rodregas held his breath, as the cat responded with its paws by stretching out, its claws popping free with the stretch.

  They showed no signs of aggression, but just looking at the size of their claws, and then at Imeralda, made Rodregas want to jump over the Dire Cat and put his body in front of her. Rodregas was fully aware of how one swipe of those claws would likely kill her.

  Unlike the house cats that he was familiar with, Rodregas could see a kind of intelligence in their eyes. He had the feeling they both knew to be careful with a fragile mortal, and they thought it was funny that he was so worried. This scene repeated itself almost every night, and several times the cats also brought game they had killed into the farmyard. Rodregas made a point of always taking a piece of the kill, as for some reason he felt this was expected as part of their adopted group. Plus, it added fresh meat to their diet without the three having to go hunting. After awhile he started to take the presence of the Dire Cats for granted and stopped worrying about the danger.

  Several weeks later, came the first night where neither the cats nor Doi’van were in the room. Doi’van was out messing with the well, Imeralda was reading one of the magic Grimoires by the fireplace. Rodregas was supposed to be reading as well, but had lost his focus on the complex diagram and was just looking at Imeralda.

  She was so beautiful, slim yet curvy. Some of those curves were smooth muscle and some were pure female. She seemed to have brought together two of the most attractive parts of the AElves and the Nymphs: the slim athletic body of the AElf with the full curves of a Nymph. Her skin had a smooth, light golden brown color that often shined with sweat during their practices and looked so soft that it was hard not to reach out and touch it.

  “Did you need something?” asked Imeralda. Rodregas had not realized that she had noticed him watching her. There was a tease to her voice and expression that said she knew what he was thinking and that she did not mind. Rodregas was an experienced man but he was not sure if he had ever seen a woman as beautiful as her, much less thought that he ever had a chance with such a woman. He had to smile, amused by his own reaction, as he felt his heartbeat speed up and a rush of heat. He had not felt such hormonal surges in a long time.

  He made a decision in his head. He had carefully been a gentleman now for several weeks and had not tried anything with the beautiful half AElf, but her teasing expression left him an opening. He decided to take advantage of it. He spoke very slowly and carefully, letting her know that he knew what he was saying. “Actually, I was looking at you, you are amazingly beautiful. Your incredible eyes and hair, you are breathtaking.” Rodregas looked at her, his eyes going slowly over her entire body as he spoke. Then he shifted his gaze toward Imeralda’s large green eyes.

  As their eyes held he slid over to her, running the back of his hand across her cheek. “You are so beautiful, your skin so soft,” Rodregas said. “You are the complete woman; beautiful, intelligent, brave.” He reached down and placed his finger below her chin and raised it up to be equal in height to his.

  “I have wanted you since I first saw you,” and with that straight forward statement, he reached down, and holding her face steady with his single finger, he slowly, softly kissed her.

  For a moment she tried to pull away, but he kept the pressure of his finger steady and firm so she could feel his desire. He made his lips eager but light, not too forceful. He was strong and he let her feel his strength, but he also gave her plenty of leverage so that if she truly wanted to pull away she could.

  He was making his desire clear, but the decision was hers. He cared for her too much, and was so determined to walk the path of righteousness and he was determined to be very careful.

  A younger man would have been in a hurry. But Rodregas was lost in the softness of her lips, the look of her eyes, and the beauty of her spirit. He wished he could make this moment last forever.

  Rodregas believed that most women did not know if they were interested until a man makes his move. It is something instinctive; there is a single moment when either it clicks or it does not. The moment held unmoving, the dice were rolling; and she responded to his kiss, but did not sink into his arms. She was making a hard decision. Rodregas felt good that she must feel something to hesitate; the moment seemed to go on forever.

  He drank in her smell. Like her it was unique, something between a honey blossom and a ripe apple. Like many things in life since he left Raven Keep, he cherished the feel, the taste, and the smell.

  Then she broke away and whispered, “I am afraid.” Imeralda spoke so quietly that he could barely hear. “I want to,” she paused and then continued her light whisper, “But being a half Nymph, half AElf means it is not easy to become involved with for a human. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He missed her taste as she pulled away, and he was surprised by what she said, but he also knew that he no longer wanted to live in fear.

  “Shhhhh, it is all right. With me you never have to worry, you never have to be afraid.” He was going to tell her that he would not hurt her, but since she seemed afraid that she would be the one hurting him, he held the comment back.

  He just pulled her close again, but instead of a soft kiss he kept himself from touching her and simply looked deep into her eyes and thought about how much he appreciated her. Rodregas let her feel how much he thought of her. Only after he saw her eyes make a decision, did he slide his hands down her body and cup the small of her back and pull her into a kiss, but this time he let more of his passion and need show.

  With his kiss her resistance evaporated and she went from hesitant to eager. Her hands started pulling at his leather armor, eager to get him naked and feel his skin.

  At her action Rodregas felt awkward. This was not really his body that she wanted to touch; he was not really this young handsome man that she felt attracted to. He wanted to pull away, but did not let himself. He had initiated the intimacy, and it would not be fair of him to pull away because of his personal doubts.

  “Easy,” Rodregas said, “I want to go nice and slow and enjoy every step.” The
y kissed again, this time eagerly exploring each other’s mouth and lips. He ran his lips down the line of her chin. Though he was trying to go slowly, they quickly found themselves naked.

  He thought if he had let her, she would have jumped right on him and slid himself inside her. Rodregas knew that Nymphs were legendary for their enjoyment of sex, but he was a little surprised at her eagerness.

  She ran her hands and lips across his chest, seemingly fascinated by ‘his’ powerful musculature and smooth skin. Once again Rodregas found himself pulling away from her touch. He had never really had a woman that eager to touch him before. Her eagerness to touch his body made him feel a little put off. It was good to be touched, in fact, he craved it. But her eagerness highlighted to him that the body she wanted to touch was not really his. It was the body of Gerald, not Rodregas.

  Her body was everything that he had thought it would be, both wonderfully hard and lush. To say she was the most beautiful woman he had ever enjoyed touching was a ridiculous understatement.

  Imeralda reached up to his neck and pulled herself up on top of his lap. She wrapped her legs around him and hoisted herself up like she was climbing the trunk of a tree. He had wanted to take his time and explore her with his hands and lips, but clearly she was in no mood for foreplay.

  Rodregas in turn was in no mood to stop her now that his own passion was building, and there was no reason to think that they would not be repeating this experience. There would be other times to explore her. Now was time to give in to their most primal needs.

  For one last moment he held her back, slowing her movements. He was a little worried that she would have trouble handling his size, but she literally started bouncing on his lap and his own groans joined hers and he stopped thinking and gave himself to the pleasure of the moment.

  Afterwards, well… after several afterwards, they were curled up on her mattress. Rodregas was very happy he had salvaged the mattress from Captain Poir. He had had no way to know that the mattress was going to come in so handy.

  He lay there with Imeralda's head laying on his shoulder and her body half draped on his own and half on the mattress, he was thankful that Doi’van had clearly heard what was going on. Rodregas assumed he must have slept back in the barn. Doi’van walking in unaware of the situation would have been very embarrassing. Rodregas had suggested to Imeralda that they should stop in case Doi’van walked in, but she had shown no signs of caring and quickly took the thought away from him with her actions.

  Rodregas wanted to ask her what this encounter had meant, but he knew that while such questions were natural they were never helpful. Two people fresh from their first lovemaking were in no place to talk about a relationship.

  Rodregas had made a promise to the gods and though she was the most amazing woman in the world, still he would do his duty. He tried to find the right thing to say. Rodregas looked down at her with her head on his shoulder and her pile of auburn curls spread equally over both their naked bodies. Her long hair covered a lot of the two of them but really hid nothing.

  He met her large green eyes and said, “You amaze me. I knew you were brave and courageous, but now I know where your true magic talent is...” He looked at her eyes as he spoke and even when he smiled at his own words, he let her see the sincerity of what he said.

  The main rule of flattery with women is to never lie. It was a lesson taught to Rodregas by a lost love, and one that had served him well over the years. Most women can always tell a lie, especially in such a moment of connection as the talk after good sex. Luckily, even with far more normal women there is always something good you can say; with Imeralda he could have gone on for hours.

  Imeralda’s eyes lit up in pleasure and humor at his words but, of course, he was careful to say nothing of the future, nothing of love. Such talk would serve no purpose and would likely ruin the moment. To his surprise she also kept such thoughts to herself. The rest of the night, the two lovers spent quietly connected and at peace, but they shared few words.

  In the morning after meditation, Doi’van pulled forth two wooden staves that he had cut and said with a smile and an exaggerated wink, “Apparently you are healed up from your wound now, so I think it is time to stop with these making of shadows like children and time for some more physical training.”

  As he finished speaking he tossed Rodregas one of the staves. “With my people we teach our children to fight using the staff. It is hard to kill someone by accident with a staff, but you can still deliver pain. The avoidance of pain is a great way to teach someone to be nimble and quick. My war masters at the palace would say you two are too old to learn the staff, but it is the way that I know.”

  “Sir Paladin,” he said to Rodregas, imposing the unearned honor title. “I assume with your training from all your ex-knights that you know how to use the staff?” As Doi’van spoke he looked at how Rodregas was holding the staff.

  “Fight with a staff?” Rodregas responded in surprise. “No, can’t say that I ever have. The weapons of the Knight are the sword, the mace, the lance and the bow. Those are the weapons of a warrior,” he stated.

  “And what do you do when facing a warrior in full plate armor?” asked Doi’van. “Even chain mail can stop an arrow or the edge of a sword. And while a mace is great against chain, crushing your opponent and breaking their bones, such tactics take far too long against plate armor.”

  Rodregas was not sure what to say to that question. The mace or the war hammer was, of course, the weapon of choice against all well armored opponents. Doi’van was right, edged weapons were not of much use against a full set of plate armor. That is why knights or others who could afford the cost wore all that metal.

  Rodregas had to shrug; he had no answer other than an extended fight with the mace that often did not end until one or the other was too tired and battered to defend themselves.

  Doi’van nodded at Rodregas expression of confusion, “My clan is known as the greatest warriors there are against heavily armored opponents because we are masters of the halberd. With a halberd we can quickly dismount an armored warrior, knock him to the ground and then, with the leverage provided by the halberd…” He swung his staff and acted like he was holding down a foe with his left foot. He made a savage two-handed thrust downward, “...we can pierce his armor and win the battle quickly.”

  Rodregas nodded. He was not sure what this halberd weapon was; Rodregas assumed it was some sort of spear from the way Doi’van was holding the staff. Rodregas did not see how a spear could do what Doi’van was suggesting, but since Doi’van had been up for learning the Kata, he would be willing to learn how to fight with a long piece of wood.

  Doi’van then stepped forward and started swinging the staff with such mastery as to make it beautiful. The staff was but a blur as it whirled in one hand and then the other, behind his back, over his shoulder. It was a dance. Rodregas had seen a few sword masters fight; and it was like this. The staff moved faster and with more control that one could follow.

  Doi’van finished the exhibition with the staff swinging over his shoulder and with a savage swing downward, ending with perfect control where it would have connected with a fallen opponent. Rodregas almost pointed out that he was doing Kata, practicing against an opponent only seen in your mind, but decided that this was the time for him to learn and Doi’van to teach. Rodregas had long ago learned that it was hard to learn if you were talking.

  Over the next hour Rodregas began to regret his decision to learn. Doi’van was clearly a master with the staff which Rodregas could not help but be impressed by. In the Eastern Realms, and every other kingdom that he knew of, the staff was a peasant weapon. As many lords only allowed swords to be for their soldiers and nobility. Farmers and crafts people were not allowed to own edged weapons of war.

  Though Rodregas had known such rules to be broken by non-noble families, it was done discretely, usually for keeping a family heirloom. During the fairs that most rural
areas had fighting contests were common, but they were always matches of wrestling or bare knuckle fighting. The only weapons allowed the local workers were the staff and sometimes the bow.

  Rodregas had always regarded the staff as a primitive weapon which no true warrior would bother with, but to watch Doi’van with it was breathtaking.

  The staff whirled around him a blur, and the length of the weapon made full use of his height and size. But he also had complete control of the weapon as he highlighted that morning by whizzing past Rodregas’ clumsy blocks and bruising every part of his body until even the smallest movement hurt.

  Rodregas was used to being better trained than others, but with the staff he was starting from scratch; even holding it properly was new to him. Doi’van showed him to keep one hand at the center of the staff and one hand between the center and the end. One always gripped the staff in thirds. When it was held horizontally in front, the right palm faced away from the body and the left hand faced the body, enabling the staff to rotate. The power for generated strikes was held by the backhand pulling the staff, while the front hand was used for guidance. When striking the wrist is twisted, the same as when one turned the hand over when punching.

  Rodregas’ eyes were quickly opened to the weapon and it was fun to learn something so new, but he was much worse for the lesson. After lunch he limped over to the great oak which they sat under most days for their magical training and reading. Imeralda was off in the trees taking care of nature’s business. As the two settled down he broached the subject on his mind.

  “Doi’van, are you mad at me? Is this something to do with me and Imeralda… getting together last night?” Rodregas asked.

  “What do you mean?” Doi’van asked clearly surprised. “No, I can’t say it is a good idea. Mixing more than casually with Nymphs always leads to problems, but it is not my problem. In fact,” he said with a careful glance around him. “I would have jumped at the chance myself.”

  “I am probably too ugly by both AElf and Nymph standards for her to be interested. Then again, you know Nymphs; they are naturally polyamorous and very sexual. It is a shock that she was not already sexually involved with one or both of us already.”

  Doi’van added, “Maybe her AElf blood means she does not have as strong a sex drive as most Nymphs since AElven marriage bonds are always monogamous. By the Celestial gods she is half AElf and half Nymph, who knows what to expect. Humans and Orqui are both in the middle of their two extremes and becoming emotionally involved with either always ends with heartbreak.” Doi’van’s deep voice was just stating a fact, if an unpleasant one.

  Rodregas nodded, he agreed but he was not the young man he looked. “I do understand that, and I expect nothing from her.” He smiled and said, “But I do plan to enjoy what we do have for as long as it lasts.”

  “And when she takes other lovers?” Doi’van asked.

  Rodregas responded with the only answer he had, “I will do my best to handle it and not get jealous,” he said. Rodregas knew it would be hard, but he was a hard man and he would have to manage.

  Doi’van nodded, then glanced over to see Imeralda walking over with several of the Grimoires and he added, “I was not angry, in fact, by my people’s standards I was being very easy on you since you are human and can’t handle pain like an Orqui. Without pain, you will not reach your potential for quickness and reflexes. On the practice field such quickness means fewer bruises. On the battle field such reflexes means life and death.”

  Rodregas nodded, his words held the ring of truth, but he was not looking forward to days of practices and days full of bruises.

  The pattern of their days changed. Now after prayer and meditation came first the practice of the Kata, and then the staff and then finally the books. The true change came in the evening, the nights were full of such pleasure and joy such as Rodregas had seldom known in his life. The rest of summer passed as the most joyful that he had known, as the three started to the Kata and the staff. After the staff they moved to the bow where Imeralda became the master.

  To use the magical Black Yew bows required learning a spell to merging with the bow. The spell was unlike anything Rodregas had learned. Imeralda said it was seldom taught to non-nymphs, though Ravenhurr had known the spell and taught a few of the guards with a touch of the talent.

  Using the bows was a matter of sending your innate power into the wood and singing with it. Not singing out loud, but making the power vibrate and move in a rhythm that matched the wood. When that magical rhythm was reached, the bow suddenly became almost fluid and moved nearly of its own volition. The arrows flew with incredible force and accuracy. The only problem was that the three could not practice freely as the arrows sometimes shattered on impact, as they flew with such force.

  Doi’van quickly mastered the spell and the use of the bow. Rodregas, on the other hand, struggled to learn the artistry of the spell. One afternoon, a few days after Doi’van had mastered the spell, Rodregas stood there with the bow trying hard to both find the rhythm of the spell and shoot the weapon. Imeralda stood next to him, her hand lightly touching the bow as she tried to figure out why he was still struggling with the mastery of the weapon. Rodregas reached down into himself, to that place that held his magic. Though Rodregas had never had much power, he had always enjoyed using his “itch” (as he had always called it) to do small things.

  Using his magic now was a very different experience. Whereas before it had been calming, requiring him to call forth his little bit of power, now he held a whirling tornado of energy. It was not a matter of having enough; it was a matter of having almost too much power that overwhelmed the simple spell. Rodregas breathed in, trying to keep his mind empty but for the shape and vibration of the magic, as he fed a small amount into the bow.

  For a second he had it. The bow responded and Rodregas was able to pull the bow back, but the moment was quickly gone. The bow bounced back into its regular shape and his arrow shot up and floundered in the air before falling to earth. Where both Imeralda and Doi’van had nailed the dead tree in the exact center, his arrow was closer to the barn then the target. Unfortunately, the barn was in the opposite direction.

  Rodregas heard a few unkind chuckles from the other two at his shot. “I don’t understand it,” he said. “Why do I have so much trouble controlling my magical power now? I know I have a lot more power, but you both have lots of power as well, yet I can’t seem to control it.” The frustration in his own voice was clear. “Could you feel anything?” Rodregas asked Imeralda.

  “No.” she responded. “Your power is strong and untamed, in flavor more like Doi’van’s power than a nymph’s or AElf’s, but Doi’van can master the spell. I think the problem is that for all of your life your power was weak but easy to control. A mage born of power learns to control it at an early age. You never had to learn any control; your power was so weak that you always struggled simply to have enough power to do anything with it.”

  “Ok, I never learned proper control; the spells I learned as a squire were small weak things. But, can I learn control now?” Rodregas asked.

  “Of course,” she responded. “But it will probably be harder and slower than if you were learning earlier in life. It requires relearning something that is almost an instinct at this point in your life. Part of the problem is that the spell to activate the magic in the bow is just very different than anything you have probably done before.”

  Rodregas knew she was speaking the truth. He had never thought he was going to be some powerful mage. The fact that Doi’van had so easily learned the spell just reminded him of how many times in his life he had failed to have the ability to succeed in things that he really wanted. Rodregas’ new body was very gifted, but it was still mortal and some things he would just not be able to do as well as others. In some ways this was reassuring, a connection to his past.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

  Rodregas smiled
and said, “of course, what?”

  “Have you thought of trying to become a sigil warrior? You are a very powerful magician now. You could probably take one or even two of the greater sigils and still have more power than you had before, and as a warrior the enhancement from the sigil would make you an even more powerful fighter.”

  Rodregas nodded, “I have thought about it. In fact, I am sure given the opportunity that I would take on one of the greater or several of the lesser sigils. I am a warrior first, not a mage. Of course, leaving a little magic left over would be great if I can, but you never really know until after the searing.”

  Rodregas paused and then added, “The problem is that only two groups in the Eastern Realms have the knowledge to do the searing. The first, of course, is the Guild of the Celestial Path. I think we all agree they are not sharing it with me soon,” Rodregas continued with a smile. “And the second is the Knightly Order of the Soaring Heavens, who are reported to have the greatest collection, and they only let their knights be seared. I don’t think they are going to be sharing anytime soon either.”

  Imeralda looked at Rodregas. She knew that the Order of the Soaring Heavens was the order that Rodregas had belonged to as a squire, but his taking on of another’s body was anathema to the teaching of the order. Rodregas was an Immortalist in fact, if not a member of the Guild, and he was pretty sure most of the knights would kill him if they found out his story.

  “But don’t some wizards have the secrets for some of the lesser sigils?” asked Doi’van, joining the conversation. “I thought a lot of them used ones that help wizards not to grow old.”

  “That is true,” said Imeralda with a shrug. “A healing sigil is why wizards live so long. It is considered by most to be the moral choice instead of the Immortalists’ answer for long life.”

  “What about you Doi’van?” Rodregas asked. “Imeralda says that you are almost as powerful as me as a magician. If we found a way, would you like to take on some of the power of the sigils?” he asked.

  Rodregas had expected an immediate response, but instead his question was followed by a long pause before Doi’van answered. Rodregas had learned that Doi’van thought before speaking. “I am not sure. I like learning magic, though I am just beginning. I would think that I would take on a minor sigil or two. I am a great warrior, but I like to learn new things and I would like to have sufficient magic to be able to learn spells.”

  Rodregas nodded. Doi’van’s response would have surprised him before, but he had learned much of the thoughtful Hellborn in their time together. When one looked at him and how powerfully built he was, it was incredible to imagine what he could do on the battlefield with a greater sigil added to his power. He would be a true daemon on the battlefield. But while Doi’van loved his strength, he also loved his intelligence. In comparison, Rodregas was less interested in exploring learning as he was about what he could do as a warrior and carrying out his duty.

  “Well,” Rodregas said, “I don’t think we are going to have any options for sigils for now. Let us continue to learn what we can of battle and of magic. If we are lucky we can worry about more if we survive our first strike at the Immortalists.”

  The next morning, during his meditation, Rodregas realized that it was time for action. He realized that if they continued simply to hide out in the farmhouse, winter would come and travel would be much more difficult. As he knelt on the ground examining the new color of the trees, he knew that it was now time to strike.

 
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