A Ranger From Adamnar

Alana did become somewhat faster. It was still very hard for her to make the transition from using the skill instinctively to being able to control the speed. Waylan never let up on her. He sparred with her more frequently than any of his other trainees. This made the seasoned trainees angry and jealous and they took it out on her.

“I think you’re still in Waylan’s group because he sees your speed ability,” Tulan said at dinner in the main hall. “I think he knew you weren’t anything special with weapons,” Tulan said, and looked quickly at Alana and added, “er, I mean, other than the dagger. Uh, I mean...”

“Forget about it,” Alana said. “Compared to you and Cadius I wasn’t any good with weapons. I’m still not much good with a bow. I can take the truth.” She sounded calm but she was cutting through her steak and into the wood plate.

Tulan noticed and said, “Uh, yeah, ok.” Shiri laughed. Alana looked down at the groove she had cut in to her plate and laughed as well.

Frankly, more was bothering her lately than just all the talk about her. She missed Nata and Cadius. She had not seen them for more than a day or two in the last two months. Errandig hung out with Alana as well now, even though he was training under Tavian. The combat phase trainers pretty much all kept normal hours. Thankfully, most days they weren’t with Waylan the whole day. They a lot of time learning the bow and quarterstaff from other trainers. Alana was hard put to keep running every day.

“So you hear about tomorrow?” Tulan asked Alana as he grabbed another steak.

“What’s so special about tomorrow? “Shiri asked.

“Nothing for you and me,” Errandig said. “These two,” and he pointed at Alana and Tulan with his fork, “fight for real tomorrow.”

Alana asked, “You mean in opposition to getting beaten up for the last two months? That should be a nice change.”

“What do you mean?” Shiri asked.

“He means,” Tulan said, “we’ll be fighting with real weapons tomorrow.”

“Couldn’t something really bad happen” Shiri asked Tulan. She looked genuinely worried.

“Something bad usually does,” Errandig said. “They have Priests on hand for it. I hear trainees have been stabbed and lost hands.” More trainees at the table and the next table over were starting to listen to him. Noticing the new attention, he added, “The Priests aren’t always successful at getting the severed limbs back on, either.”

Another trainee from Waylan’s group called over to them, “Yeah, and lots of trainees get stabbed in the stomach and bleed to death. There’s not enough life energy in a trainee to resurrect.” The trainee sitting next to him at that table spit up his milk and blew it out his nose. Everyone nearby laughed.

The following morning, Alana considered strongly not joining the morning run. As Neve was standing there staring at her, though, she decided to go.

“I hear you’re fighting with real weapons today,” another trainee said as they jogged through the woods.

“Uh-huh,” Alana said.

“I hear Waylan doesn’t ever start new trainees on real weapons until at least four months in,” she continued. “I hear he’s making a special exception for you.”

“Maybe he wants to get rid of me,” Alana said. She was getting a little tired of all the fuss that was being made about her now that she had tied Lord Berol’s record. When the group returned from the run, she found Tulan waiting for her outside her barracks. He looked very serious and moody.

“Hey Tulan,” Alana said passed him. “Relax, it had to happen sooner or later. You’re the best trainee with a sword I’ve ever seen.” She stopped outside the barracks as most of the other female trainees went inside.

“No,” Tulan corrected, “Cadius is.”

“His brute force isn’t going to help him too much against the finesse of a Ranger,” Alana said.

“You’re beginning to sound like Waylan,” Tulan said. “I never thought I’d hear you start quoting him.”

Alana glared at him, “I’m not anything like Waylan. Wait here, I’ll be right out,” Alana said and turned to walk into the barracks. Tulan nodded vigorously but didn’t say anything.

Alana hurried to change in to sturdier sparring gear. Several other trainees wished her luck. Grace was standing waiting for her to get dressed. Alana wore a long sword, short sword and two daggers, in addition to the Novadi dagger.

“Is this your first time with weapons?” Alana asked her. Grace shook her head no and held up two fingers. She looked serious, but not as dour as Tulan. Alana noticed she did have her long blonde hair tied up tight against the back of her head in the style Lord Chasimar always wore. She saw Grace had tightened every strap, buckle and cord as tight as they could go. Alana thought that was not such a good idea and did not do the same. She thought it would be better if she dressed like she always dressed.

“Ready,” Alana said to Grace, and they walked out together, met Tulan outside and jogged to the practice ring. They had all three decided to skip breakfast this morning, at Waylan’s recommendation. They were the first trainees to arrive at the ring. Waylan and two Priests were already there. Alana recognized one of the Priests from her scullery maid days. His name was Terinador Bruny. He was the chief Priest for this stronghold and he was also third order.

When all the trainees arrived and fell into line, Waylan began speaking. “Today we’ll be sparring with real weapons.” Several of the trainees laughed hesitantly. Every trainee was decked out in three to five real weapons. Two had two long swords and the rest had a long and short sword. All had several daggers. Alana had learned it was always a good idea when sparring Trainer Waylan to have a few extra weapons that he might not know about.

“Fighting with real weapons doesn’t mean we fight harder or with abandon,” Waylan continued as he characteristically paced the line. “It means we are more careful. It means we are more controlled. For half of you this will be the first time you’ve done that. The main thing you need to remember is if I or one of the Priests yell stop, you stop immediately right then and stop whatever attack you may have been in the middle of. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Waylan,” the trainees said in unison.

“Good, now pair up.” Waylan said. Since Errandig had been switched to Trainer Tavian’s group, Alana’s class only had eleven trainees. Alana paired up with Grace. Tulan paired up with the biggest meanest trainee in the group. Alana was sure he did this on purpose just to get it over with.

“Begin,” Waylan said.

Immediately there was the sound of steel clashing on steel. Grace fought with a long sword and dagger, as did Alana. She came at Alana with her sword held high over her head and her dagger in front of her, angled across her chest. She swung down as Alana raised her own sword and dagger to catch Grace’s attack. Grace started to try to take advantage of the two on one weapon overmatch to use her dagger to cut Alana’s arm. Alana threw her weight into her weapons and angled Grace’s sword down against her dagger hand, foiling the attack.

Alana took a step back and disengaged, keeping her sword and dagger at the ready. Grace circled her once, looking for an opening, but Alana wasn’t giving her one. Grace lunged with her sword. Alana knocked it aside and spun with her dagger at Grace’s mid section, slicing into, but not through her heavy padded armor.

“Come on, Alana,” Waylan called from behind her. “Attack like you mean to cause harm.”

“Yes Waylan,” Alana said, without taking her eyes off of Grace.

A short scream issued forth and Waylan immediately called a halt and ran over to the fallen trainee. Everyone stopped and looked to see what happened. Alana could see the Priests both running over to a fallen trainee. It was the large trainee Tulan had been fighting. By the looks of it, Tulan had run him through. The other trainee was lying in a fetal position with hands over the left side of his abdomen, his body shaking. Tulan looked as white as a sheet.

One Priest went to the fallen trainee’s head and quickly placed both hands on the trainee’s forehead. The trainee immediately stopped shaking. Bruny, placed his hands over the trainee’s wound and began chanting. Within seconds the blood stopped flowing and shortly after that the two Priests stood.

Waylan reached down to take the trainee’s hand. He helped him up and said, “Well, two long swords not cutting it for you? Now maybe you’ll take my advice and knock it off. You’re finally fighting someone who’s not afraid of your size and can get under your guard. Now you see just how slow you really are.” Waylan let go of his hand once he was back on his feet. Alana watched the exchange, a deep frown furrowing her brow. She thought Waylan could have waited until the end of sparring to chastise the trainee. He was already wounded enough.

Waylan looked over at Tulan who still looked sick. “Now don’t you stop fighting,” Waylan said to him. “Hey, can you hear me?” He looked over at Brother Bruny, who then came over to Tulan and placed a gentle hand on his arm. He whispered is Tulan’s ear. Alana could feel the power and peace flowing from the Priest to Tulan as he spoke. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the power, trying to add to the peace. Tulan seemed to snap out of it and looked at Waylan as if he only just saw him.

Waylan turned back around to face the other trainee. He looked down at the amount of blood lost and then looked at the other Priest and asked, “One hour?” The Priest and the trainee both nodded. Alana assumed Waylan meant for the trainee to sit it out.

Bruny walked over to Alana and said, “I felt you join the communing chant. Where did you learn to do that?”

“I didn’t, Brother Bruny,” Alana said. “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Little miracles around every corner,” Bruny said. He smiled slightly as he looked down and saw the emblem of Asaeria around Alana’s neck. “You continue to amaze Alana Nadran.” He walked back to the side of the arena.

“But today,” Waylan said to Alana, “I need you to focus on fighting and not on healing, all right?”

“Yes, Trainer Waylan,” Alana said.

“Everyone switch,” Waylan ordered.

With the large trainee out, there was no need for anyone else to sit out. Alana paired up with Sareth Grendila, Waylan’s most senior trainee. He was of average height but very slight frame. He, like Alana, made his fighting successful by being quick. Alana knew he was another counter fighter and she got the impression that he was trying to emulate Waylan’s style exactly.

He struck hard and fast, not at all what Alana was expecting. He was nearly as fast as she, but in the end, she was able to parry his three quick thrusts all with her long sword, as her uncle had shown her, and slash him across his midsection with her dagger. He was so surprised she got in under his “attack as defense” that he just stood there for a moment looking at the blood seeping from his stomach.

He fell to his knees but held on to his swords as the Priests ran over and Waylan yelled for everyone to stop again.

After he was healed, the Priests and Waylan agreed that he could continue fighting.

Waylan said to Alana, “You’re very fast, yes, but you need more than one attack. If you keep with the same attack everyone will know it’s coming. No amount of speed will make it successful then.”

“Yes, Trainer Waylan,” Alana said. The problem was that’s where everyone seemed to be open. Uncle Iliard taught her about finding or making openings. Since most of the trainees were taller than her, and some much taller, she usually went for openings about half way up her opponent. Today’s events certainly showed her how battle ending such an attack could be.

After a few more rounds they stopped to assess the battles. The sat around in a circle as Waylan took each trainee in turn and reenacted their battles slowly, explaining to all how the attacks or defenses had succeeded or failed.

When it was Alana’s turn she stood in the center of the large ring created by the trainees. Waylan went over each of her matches and berated the other trainees for not learning her style which, although it was very fast, was always the same.

“By the fourth or fifth of you, you should have picked up on this,” Waylan said. “Her fighting style is very simple. Just because she is faster than all of you, that’s no excuse.”

Gee, they weren’t concentrating on their own battles or anything, Alana thought, getting aggravated at Waylan’s cavalier attitude towards the trainees.

Then came another hour of sparring roughly five minutes on and five minutes off, while a trainee was healed or an odd digit was reattached. Alana hoped they weren’t going to fight like this from now on. Rangers rarely fought every day, even with healers around.

“You people make me sick. Can’t any of you get past such a simple defense?” Waylan said. After the second hour, no one had defeated Alana.

For the third round of sparring, three trainees were sitting out. Alana thought this might be the last round they could handle. They were starting to get sloppy and tired. Injuries were on the rise.

Waylan snapped, “Alana, you’re with me.” Tulan, who she was sparring for the second time backed away from her and nodded his head in respect.

Waylan fought with a long sword only. Alana fought with a long sword and a dagger. “Begin,” he said. All the trainees began sparring, though more slowly than before.

“All right Nadran,” he said curtly, “We all know you’re a one move wonder. So let’s see if you have any creativity to add to your speed.”

Alana’s eyes narrowed slightly and she answered tightly, “Yes, Trainer Waylan.” Alana didn’t attack first. She didn’t even feint, but rather chose to stand at the ready, her weapons in front of her. She was having trouble keeping her long sword up. The tip dipped so far that the sword was level to the ground. She got the feeling Waylan was going to try to take advantage of that.

“So are we just going to stand here staring at each other?” Waylan asked? Alana didn’t take the bait and continued to stand there. If it was a battle he wanted, he would have to attack her.

“Sword getting heavy?” Waylan asked. Alana brought the tip back up a little, but it was soon drooping again. They both knew she couldn’t stand like this forever. She was already near the end of her strength.

Waylan took a quick shuffle step forward, performed a thrust and full tear drop return, overhead spin and sidearm slash so hard that when the third blow struck Alana’s long sword she nearly dropped it. He quickly followed it with two sweeping lunges ending in a drop strike. Alana was able to block them all except the drop strike. It left a gash on her right calf. She kept staring intently at Waylan and only got an idea of how bad it was from his brief glance and furrowed brow.

He backed away a moment. She thought he might be about to call over one of the Priest.

“Had you been my enemy,” Waylan said, “You would be missing the bottom half of your right leg right now. Why don’t you show me some of that great speed of yours? You can’t be a counter fighter of you’re not faster than your opponent.”

Alana didn’t agree with that. She was getting more frustrated. How was she supposed to fight him? He was so much better. What was he trying to prove with this?

Again he attacked and again he drew blood. She could stop a few of his attacks, but he always had one more attack than she could stop. Maybe he had even more, but stopped himself once he had a hit. Alana was bleeding from several wounds, breathing heavily and close to tears in frustration. He wouldn’t let it end.

He lunged at her and brought the edge of his sword along the under edge of her sword. She knew he was looking for that exact point in balance at which he could hoist her sword out of her hand and cause it to fly back over his head behind him. Just as she thought he reached it and shifted his weight to begin the lift, she let go of her long sword, moved a half step to the left and lunged with her dagger. She gathered all her strength and concentration and sank her dagger into his midsection. She stared up at his eyes with fury for an instant. She was soon horrified, though, at her own anger.

Waylan had dropped his sword and with his left hand grabbed her tunic and pulled her up to be face to face to him. He whispered, “Do not let your anger control you, trainee.” Then he passed out and slumped to the ground and fell over sideways, his blood spilling out of his stomach.

The two Priests reached him before his shoulder reached the ground. Alana dropped her dagger, knelt down over Waylan and tried, without knowing how, to join in the Priests’ healing efforts.

“Guilt will not heal him, Alana,” Bruny said. “You must search out a different feeling for him in order to help him.”

“What feeling?” Alana asked.

“You know what feeling,” the other Priest said as he sat on his knees with his hands on Waylan’s forehead.

Alana did not know what feeling. She could feel the two Priest’s spiritual power flowing into Waylan and, although she had a meager spiritual power of her own, she couldn’t harmonize with them as she had done before to help Tulan. She expected them to tell her to step away.

“Search deeper,” Bruny said to her. “We will need to heal him soon. We cannot wait for you much longer. Search deeper. You have felt it before. It is there in your mind and in your heart. I can feel it. Search for it.”

Alana began to weep and finally the spiritual power was unleashed like the waters from a dam. Where there was a moment before a discordant tone of their three energies, now there was only a beautiful chord, each healer distinct but adding to the larger whole.

After a few minutes they were finished. Waylan opened his eyes and shuddered in a deep breath. He sat up and looked dizzy. He looked over to Alana still kneeling next to him, across from Bruny. “Thank you for the healing, Alana,” Waylan said then stood up and walked over and picked up his sword.

Bruny watched him for a moment then looked at Alana. He seemed only just then to notice her injuries. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” he complained. He healed her much more quickly than they had healed Waylan. He stood up and offered her his hand. When she was standing, he asked, “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be a healer?” He smiled at her and the two Priests walked back to the side of the practice ring.

Waylan, walking a little slowly, said, “Circle up. Let’s go over my and Alana’s sparring.” When it was done Waylan dismissed the trainees for the day saying, “Make sure you bring all your weapons to practice tomorrow.” As they were filing out of the ring, Waylan asked Alana to wait a moment.

After all the other trainees had left, Waylan asked Alana to sit with him on one of the benches on the side of the ring. “Alana you’re very fast and you fight very well,” he said “You’re good. No, you’re better than every other trainee in this class. However, today you were angry. You fought me with anger and maybe even hatred.” He looked right into her eyes and spoke softly, “Alana, you must not let anger control you. It’s likely for all Rangers that at some point a major battle lies ahead of them. When they meet that battle they will have to choose between winning quickly and easily with anger or toughing it out and winning without hating their enemy. Rangers are not about hatred and we are not about starting wars. You will do well to remember this.”

“Yes, Trainer Waylan,” Alana said.

He stood up and so Alana did as well. As they were walking out of the ring, Waylan added, “Oh, and Alana.”

“Yes Trainer Waylan?”

“If you use that Novadi dagger against a trainee I’ll have you thrown out of the stronghold.”

Alana stared at him in shock. She put her hand on the sheath and found that it was empty. She looked over to where her dagger still lay on the ground and realized to her horror that it was indeed the Novadi dagger. She hadn’t even realized she had used it against him or that she had even taken it out of its sheath. Her face went completely white. “Yes Trainer Waylan,” she whispered.