‘You’re wrong there.’ Kwin smiled. ‘The man who bought it is called Tallus and he’s a journeyman patterner – very ordinary. He only has one lac and has had mixed results entering it at the Wheel’s lower combatlevels. I don’t think it’s fought any higher than Arena 5. He can’t have paid that much.’
‘Maybe he saved up,’ I suggested.
‘More likely the Trader dropped his price. My father’s raging about that because he thinks that he and Wode should have been given first refusal. Do you know what’s made him really livid?’
I raised my eyebrows.
‘The soul is that of a woman. It could even be the artificer who died eight hundred years ago – the one who should know how to pattern sentience into a lac. Father feels that if the Trader dropped his price, he shouldhave been the one to benefit. After all, he paid a lot to be the first in line and is one of the Trader’s best customers.’
*
Tyron didn’t like his trainees to work with lacs unsupervised, so apart from studying Nym and trying to commit some of its basic wurdes to memory, I’d had a lazy Sunday, ending with a stroll around the city. I wasmaking the best of it because I knew that Tyron would work us hard once Deinon got back.
Since Kern’s death, the atmosphere in the house had become silent and sad, and Teena stayed in her room most of the time. Tyron had told me that her child had been sent away from the city to be cared for by an aunt.She visited her young son but didn’t feel able to care for him on a day-to-day basis.
At supper neither of Tyron’s daughters put in an appearance. I was both surprised and disappointed not to see Kwin.
I realized that when the season began, it would be a year since I’d begun my training. Usually Tyron’s second-year trainees were based in quarters at the Wheel. It would be interesting to meet new young people, butmy anticipation was tempered by the realization that I’d rarely see Kwin any more.
Tyron was away somewhere on business, and at the end of the previous season Palm had left for his new quarters in the Wheel, so I dined alone. I tucked in eagerly.
I was looking forward to seeing Deinon. I needed some company. Fortunately he appeared soon after supper on the Sunday evening.
‘Hi, Leif – it’s good to see you!’ he said, clapping me on the shoulder.
‘Good to see you too. It seems ages since the end of the season.’
‘I like those tattoos! They’re Genthai, aren’t they?’
‘They are. They show your ancestry. But if you think this is good, wait until you see Kwin’s! She’s got a number thirteen tattooed on her forehead. Tyron went berserk!’
‘Can’t wait to see it!’ Deinon laughed.
I’d have liked to tell him about everything that had happened to me in the forest, but I was bound by my promise to Konnit.
Deinon was friendly enough, though I thought he seemed a little subdued. We sat on our beds and chatted for a while before going to sleep.
‘How was it back home?’ I asked. Deinon had gone back to help on his father’s farm.
‘It was good to see my family again, but my father worked me really hard. Things are quieter in winter, but that’s when we do routine maintenance like repairing fences and patching up the barn. I had to do a lot morethan my brothers – but I can’t complain, can I? I’m away here while they have to do all the hard work in summer.’
‘Tyron said there was some problem that stopped you from coming back earlier. You can’t believe how glad I am to see you. It’s been so quiet here. Another week and I’d have gone crazy.’
‘It was to do with money, Leif,’ he answered glumly. ‘My father was struggling to pay Tyron for my training, but it’s all sorted out now.’
Deinon’s father could only afford to send one of his sons to train for Arena 13. I guessed that this might have made things uncomfortable for him at home.
‘What about you, Leif? Did you get to stay with your people?’
‘Yes!’ I said with a smile. ‘But they worked me hard too. I spent the winter chopping down trees. It’ll be good to get back into training.’
‘I’ve decided to concentrate on patterning,’ Deinon said, his face suddenly becoming serious. ‘Tyron thinks I’m good enough to make a living from it, and I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough to fight in the arena.’
‘Someone with two left feet like you is lucky to get across a room without stumbling,’ I laughed. We were good friends now and I knew he wouldn’t take offence. ‘But he’ll still make you practise dancing behind alac,’ I continued. ‘Tyron once told me that even if a trainee specializes in patterning, he needs to keep in touch with what’s required.’
‘I don’t mind that – I won’t have to fight in Arena 13. It’s not for me. Imagine fighting to the death in a grudge match. And you can get badly hurt in an ordinary contest. They don’t all end with a ritual cut. If youstumble and get separated from your lac, the others come at you with their blades, and they aren’t fussy how they cut you.’
I didn’t want to contradict Deinon. He had a right to his opinions. But I didn’t agree. I liked the danger. I loved the idea of pitting my skill against another combatant and his lacs.
‘Speaking of Arena 13, would you dream of entering the Lists without being trained by an artificer like Tyron?’
I shook my head. It would be madness.
‘Well, the wagon driver who brought me into Gindeen was full of the news that’s sweeping through the city – that somebody is going to do exactly that. Tallus, the man who bought the dead artificer from the Trader,has applied to enter the Arena 13 Lists. What do you think of that?’
‘The start of the season is less than three months away,’ I said. ‘He’s had no training. He’ll never be ready in time. It just isn’t possible.’
‘It’ll be interesting if he manages to win!’ exclaimed Deinon. ‘That might be worth a bet. You’d get very good odds.’
‘Yes!’ I said with a laugh. ‘It’s a pity neither of us bets!’
It was true. I’d bet only once – forced into it because of my rivalry with Palm. But it wouldn’t happen again. Deinon and I had discussed this at length. Although a punter might win sometimes, in the long run hislosses always outweighed his gains. The gambling houses knew exactly what they were doing and had made a fine art of calculating odds.
However, it seemed to me that although Tallus might not be ready in time, his lac would be. The artificer he’d bought would be patterning it for him.
‘I wonder what it’s like for her,’ I mused. ‘Imagine dying at a time when humans ruled the whole world and waking up to find yourself a slave in muddy Midgard.’
‘It’ll be a shock all right,’ Deinon agreed. ‘I hope nobody tells her about the others that were bought from the Trader and what happened to them. That would make her feel really bad.’
‘What did happen to them?’ I asked.
‘A couple just disappeared,’ Deinon told me. ‘Maybe they were taken by Hob.’
‘Why would Hob want them?’
‘For their knowledge of Nym – they were all patterners, after all,’ Deinon explained. ‘Another one committed suicide. And one went raving mad and had to be locked away until he died.
‘They were all men except one,’ he continued. ‘What happened to the woman was terrible. She aged rapidly. They say that when she was first bought, she looked no more than thirty. One year later she was a wrinkledold woman. She broke her hip in a fall and died of pneumonia.’
For a while neither of us spoke. No doubt we were both thinking of this woman artificer’s situation. She too was no better than a slave. However, I was intrigued and excited. I wanted to be there when Tallus fought.Would we be shocked and amazed by the changes she could bring about in a lac? I wondered.
‘I miss Kern,’ Deinon said suddenly, changing the subject.
‘It’s not the same without him,’ I agreed.
On that sad note we climbed into our beds. That night I dreamed of Kern. Not of his defeat in t
he arena, although that would have been bad enough. I saw his eyes looking at me from the box where his severed headhad been placed, pleading for a help that I was unable to give.
Then another pair of eyes stared at me. Fear gripped me and I began to tremble, but trapped in the nightmare, I couldn’t look away.
They were the pitiless, inhuman eyes of Hob.
HISTORY IN THE MAKING
Slim Nym is the shortened Core Dictionary of a language which will never cease growing.
The Manual of Nym
The following day Tyron supervised our first training session. He worked us very hard at dancing behind the practice lac. I knew that we would end the session with the game with the ball and was determined to dobetter this time.
Deinon went first, and received a blow to the head that sent him reeling to the floor. He looked up and gave a rueful smile. It didn’t matter that much to him, but to me speed and precision were everything. I needed toprove that I could still do it.
My mouth was dry and I was desperate to win. I moved in fast, just managing to avoid the leather ball, and lunged towards the lac’s throat-socket. My blade struck close to the target, but not close enough. It made thatmetallic noise that everyone in Arena 13 is familiar with – the sound that indicates a near miss.
I circled and attacked again. This time the blade hit home, the shock travelling all the way up to my shoulder. The wurde endoff was called, and down went the lac, following the patterning in its mind.
Only when I’d managed to win twice more did my anxiety evaporate. I was back. From now on I would get better and better.
After that Tyron concentrated on theory. I groaned inside, but hid my feelings. I much preferred to work on the training floor, although I knew that Deinon would love this.
‘I would like you to write a simple wurde to direct a min combatant’s lac to first feint, making a false attack, then to step forward and aim for the throat-socket of the central lac of the opposing tri-glad. As componentsof your new wurde, use existing wurdes from The Nym Dictionary. Each wurde must be clearly explained using comments. Is that clear?’
We both nodded, and retired to work alone in our small studies. Experienced Nym patterners held the basic Nym wurdes in their memories, but, as trainees, we were each allowed a printed version of Slim Nym, whichwas the shortened Core Dictionary of the language.
I decided to call my new wurde ‘Gambit’; after all, making a false attack was a ruse before making the real attack. It took me about twenty minutes to find the wurdes I needed and then to combine them within‘Gambit’. Calling that wurde would begin the sequence of actions. I was also careful to use / and add my comment, an explanation of what each section did:
:Gambit –/ this is the name of the wurde to be compiled and then called
BeReceptive*/ this alerts the lac to await target instruction
CentralLac*/ lac directed to attack central lac of opposing tri-glad
Feint*/ lac directed to make mock attack
BeClumsy*/ and seem over-extended
StepB2*/ two steps backwards
StepF1*/ one step forward
TargetSocket*/ thrust blade at lac’s throat-socket
Retreat;/ move backwards
I was quite pleased with what I’d achieved. Of course, the next step would be to create the Ulum sound-code linked to that wurde. Once completed, drumming that on the boards of the arena would call up the wurde inthe mind of the lac and it would follow the instructions.
We took our written solutions to Tyron, who was waiting on the training floor. He nodded and read our wurdes.
‘That’s good, Leif,’ he said with a smile. ‘That would definitely work.’
Then he stared down at Deinon’s effort and whistled through his teeth. He was clearly impressed. ‘That’s excellent, Deinon. I’d like to discuss this with you after our practical workout. I think I can suggest a couple of improvements.’
Then I caught a glimpse of what Deinon had produced. It was three times the length of my code, and contained numbers and symbols I had no knowledge of. Compared with Deinon’s code, mine was the crudescratchings of a child using chalk on a slate tablet. For a moment I felt envious, but pushed it aside. Deinon was good at patterning. He had a flair for it and that would be his future. My forte was actually fighting inArena 13.
I was again surprised and disappointed to find that Kwin was not there at supper. I hadn’t seen her all day.
After we’d eaten, Tyron dismissed Deinon but asked me to stay behind. I felt nervous. What was this all about? Was I in trouble again?
He closed the door and turned to face me. ‘Yesterday I went to see a man called Tallus,’ he said. ‘The name that’s on every gossip’s lips because he’s the one who bought that female artificer. She’s the very one thatthe Trader offered to Wode. There’s no doubt about it. She will have far greater knowledge of Nym than we have. No doubt she’ll have the skill to pattern a sentient lac.
‘I think we should share that knowledge, and you know why, boy. It would enable us to defeat Hob. So I offered to buy some of her time. I offered a lot of money – more than Tallus would normally earn in a year –but he refused point blank. I can’t really blame him. He sees me as a rival who’s trying to steal some of his advantage. He believes he’s going to earn big money.’
‘Did you see the artificer?’ I asked.
Tyron nodded. ‘Yes, but I got precious little chance to speak to her. She has a strange accent and it’s hard to understand what she says. Language, especially its pronunciation, will have changed a lot since her day. ButTallus told me she’s making good progress and is improving rapidly. She told me her name and why it was given to her – that was all.
‘She’s Tallus’s property and has to hold her tongue, but what I saw impressed me. The false flesh she’s been reborn into is that of an attractive woman no older than thirty. But it’s her eyes that tell you she’ssomething very special. They shine with intelligence and spirit. She’s a proud and wilful woman – one glance told me that. Her name is Ada. She says she was named after the first ever human patterner, who was also awoman.’
‘What will you do now?’ I asked.
‘There’s little more that I can do, but I did have one stroke of luck. Well, in truth, it was more than luck,’ Tyron said with a satisfied smile. ‘I was canny enough to let Kwin accompany me when I visited Tallus. Adatook a shine to her, and Kwin liked Ada too. No doubt they have things in common, including their attitude – though even if they were opposites, she’d welcome Kwin. The woman is alone in an unfamiliar world andslave to a stranger, and a man at that. I suggested that Kwin might provide a bit of female companionship. Tallus was suspicious at first, but he soon realized that Ada would work better with Kwin to talk to. So she’sstaying with them for a while.’
I tried not to let my disappointment show. I would miss her. I’d been hoping to get closer to her and felt a twinge of loss.
‘So Kwin will be able to learn from Ada?’ I asked. ‘She’ll be able to find out about Nym and pass it on to you?’
Tyron smiled and shook his head. ‘She’s a clever girl, is Kwin – make no mistake about it. And she knows the basics of the language. But that doesn’t mean that she’ll be able to work out what that artificer is doing.Still, we’ve got one foot in the door. There’s a chance that Tallus might change his mind. That’s if he doesn’t get himself killed first. He’s already scheduled to fight in the first week of the season and he’s been drawnagainst Brandon, a skilled veteran. Normally I wouldn’t expect a novice like him to last two minutes, but with Ada patterning his lac, it should be interesting.’
‘I’d like to see that!’ I said.
‘And so you shall,’ Tyron replied. ‘The gallery is bound to be full to capacity, so I’ll book seats. It’s something we should all watch. It could be history in the making – the first sentient lac to fight in Arena 13. Ofcourse, it could be a complete fiasco. Tallus may not stay on his feet for more than twenty secon
ds.’
Creating a sentient lac was of great importance to Tyron. Such a lac would be fully aware and able to take the initiative, forming a better partnership with the human combatant. Tyron also believed that a number ofsuch lacs might enter Hob’s lair and destroy every last one of his selves.
It struck me that lacs armed with the gramagandar would find the task even easier, but Konnit had his own plans for those weapons.
At the end of the first week of training we had our usual Saturday off. Deinon and I spent the afternoon at the Westmere Plaza. The sky was blue and cloudless, but there was little warmth in the sun and the deciduoustrees were still not out – there were no conifers allowed in the city because their roots could not gain sufficient purchase on the slopes; they blew over in winter gales and were a hazard to property and people.
We sat outside our usual café. Despite our heavy coats, we were both shivering in the cold air. I could hear Deinon’s teeth chattering.
‘Are you happy that we’re to stay on in Tyron’s house?’ he asked before taking a sip of his drink.
We had just been given the good news. Usually, at the end of the first year, Tyron’s trainees moved to accommodation in the Wheel. I’d expected that, like Palm, we’d both be moving just before the start of theseason. But then Tyron had told us that we wouldn’t be going after all. He wouldn’t be taking on any new trainees this year so there’d be room for us to stay.
‘It suits me,’ I said with a grin. ‘That way I’ll see more of Kwin!’
‘Seriously, Leif, don’t build up your hopes too much. The other day I was near the Wheel and I saw her talking to Jon.’
I shrugged and smiled, trying to put a brave face on things, although I felt hurt. I thought they had broken up.
‘I’m not,’ I said, trying to avoid Deinon’s eyes.
‘I was looking forward to working at the Wheel and getting to know the other trainees,’ he said, ‘but Tyron is right – it’s better if I stay at the house. There’ll be more peace and quiet to work on my patterning.’