Aurian was delighted that the shy young Mage had found a friend outside the Academy. He had grieved so hard, at first, over Davorshan’s defection to Eliseth. D’arvan’s early visits to the Garrison had been strained and awkward, and for a while she had despaired, but his shyness had eventually been vanquished by the discovery of an incredible talent for archery, of all things. Then Maya had won his trust at last, and taken a weight of worry from the Mage’s shoulders. The twins, at this point, seemed to have called a truce; though they had moved to separate rooms, they had apparently learned to live with the differences that had alienated them from one another. And Aurian, to her surprise, had been well repaid for her kindness to D’arvan, for she had gained another friend within the Academy where she had least expecTed to find one.
Aurian was brought back from her thoughts by Parric’s voice. “Well, you heard her—did she win?”
Fional simply shrugged, and D’arvan, intent on his shooting, gave the two assailants an absentminded wave. Maya, however, sauntered across to them, grinning. “Parric’s right, you were slow,” she said to Aurian.
“See?” the Cavalrymaster jeered. Aurian’s face fell.
“But,” Maya went on, “you were bloody effective. Cutting that girth was the neatest trick I’ve seen in ages! Face it, Parric, you’ve taught her too well. I give the result to Aurian.”
“Ha!” Aurian pointed at the little man. “Told you!”
“Bloody women!” Parric muttered disgustedly as he picked himself up, beating the dust out of his clothing. “Always stick together!”
Aurian dismounted with a smile. An outsider, she thought, would have been horrified by the incident, but within the Garrison, such surprise attacks were commonplace. The troopers were a close-knit family. They policed the city and its surrounds, dealt with any trouble, and fought any battles or wars that the Council needed fighting; and they were well aware of the dangers of their profession. Hence the potentially lethal tricks they played on one another. They pushed themselves and their comrades to the limits out of friendship—to sharpen their wits and skills, and increase their chances of survival. It was very effective. Now, thanks to Forral and her comrades-in-arms, she was a better fighter than she had ever been, and the friendships she had made were worth more than gold.
Aurian suddenly became aware that Maya was speaking to her. “What did you say?”
“I said, how was your visit to your mother?”
“Oh, I don’t know—about the same as usual.” Gods, had she only returned yesterday? It seemed unbelievable to Aurian.
“Honestly, you’re miles away this morning,” Maya said. Linking arms, the two women strolled towards the barnlike building that housed the Garrison practice floor.
“I’ve been up all night, as D’arvan might have told you, had you been able to get his attention away from his archery,” Aurian told her. “There’s great-excitement at the Academy. Finbarr found some caves beneath the archives, filled with old documents that might hold the lost history of the Magefolk, before the Cataclysm.”
Maya shuddered at the mention of the long-ago magical wars that had almost destroyed the world, and made a sign against evil. “Gods,” she said, “I thought everything had been destroyed!”
“We all did, but apparently someone had the sense to hide this stuff away out of danger. Although the Academy of that time was leveled along with the rest of the city, these artifacts survived the centuries,” Aurian said. “It took us half the night to unravel the spells protecting them, just so that we could touch them, and thea-they started to disintegrate. We spent the rest of the night working preservative magic so that we wouldn’t lose the lot.”
“If you ask me, you should have left them well alone,” Maya said darkly. “Mark my words, Aurian, no good will come of digging up ancient evils.”
At her friend’s words, Aurian felt her skin prickle. The day seemed to darken with the presentiment of some impending catastrophe. She shivered.
“What’s wrong?” Maya asked sharply.
“Nothing. I’m tired, that’s all.” She tried to convince herself that it was true.
“Are you sure you should fight this morning?” Maya sounded anxious. “Tired people make mistakes, you know.”
Aurian stopped in her tracks. “Great Chathak! I’d forgotten all about that!”
“Wonderful,” Maya said dryly. “This year Forral chooses you, out of everyone in the Garrison, to partner him in the demonstration duel for the new recruits, and you forget. It’s only an honor given to the best warrior in the place. No wonder such a little thing slipped your mind!”
“Oh shut up, Maya!” Aurian snapped.
“Staying up all night hasn’t made any difference to your legendary grouchiness first thing in the morning!” Maya teased, then her face grew serious, “I’m sorry, Aurian. I can see that something’s bothering you. Look, do you want to talk about it? We have time. Forral overslept again.” She made a wry face.
Aurian sighed, as her friend’s sympathy tempted her to spill out all her worries. With an effort she pulled herself together. “Thanks, Maya, but it’s something I’ll have to sort out for myself,” she said. “If we have time, though, I could kill for some tatlin!”
As they sat in the deserted mess hall cradling their steaming cups, Maya returned to the attack. “It’s not this business with Forral, is it?” she persisted.
“What?” For an instant Aurian thought her friend had discovered her feelings for the swordsman, but Maya’s next words disabused her. “He’s managed to hide it from most of the Garrison, but no one can drink like that without it coming to light sooner or later.”
Aurian’s heart sank. “How long has this been going on?”
Maya shrugged. “Weeks—months, really. But lately it’s been getting worse, and as Forral’s friend, as well as his deputy, I’m worried. He’s losing his edge, Aurian. I can see it already, and you know what it’s like around here. Sooner or later somebody will pull a stunt on him like Parric did to you this morning, and he’s going to get hurt.” Maya stopped short at the horrified expression on Aurian’s face. “Damn my big mouth! You didn’t know, did you?”
“It’s all right,” Aurian said weakly. “I wish you’d told me sooner. Maybe I can talk to him about it.”
“Thanks, Aurian. I’m sorry to burden you with this, but he might listen to you. He—” Maya suddenly shut her mouth, her eyes narrowing. She stood up abruptly. “Come on,” she said, “It’s time we were going.”
The banks of wooden benches around the practice floor were packed to capacity. The new recruits sat on one side, and the remaining seats were packed with every off-duty member of the Garrison who could squeeze in. The annual no-holds-barred exhibition fight, to show the newcomers what would eventually be expected of them, was always spectacular, and no one wanted to miss seeing the world’s greatest swordsman in action—especially this year. Forral always chose the best warrior as his opponent, and in nominating Aurian he had risked the charge of favoritism. The troopers, however, knew better, and the wagering—strictly illegal—on the fight was heavier than usual.
The atmosphere was tense with excitement as Aurian entered the arena. She’d done the exercises and meditations to prepare her body and mind for the coming fight, but still she found herself glancing worriedly at Forral as he entered. Apart from a slight puffiness about the eyes, he seemed well enough, and Aurian forced herself to put Maya’s confidence out of her mind until later. The two contestants, clad alike in sleeveless leather fighting vests, leather breeches, and soft boots, bowed to each other formally, and the fight began.
Aurian circled warily, knowing better than to commit herself too hastily with a warrior of Forral’s caliber. Suddenly he lunged, finding an opening she could have sworn was never there. She leapt back, feeling his sword’s very tip graze the tough leather of her vest just over her ribs. Good thing she was fast on her feet. She-feigned a stumble, then drove in to one side. A trickle of blood appeared on Forral’s left arm, and the audience’s startled gasp echoed Aurian’s own. First blood to her, and so soon! He should never have fallen for an old trick like that. She had to do something. She drove in again, straight this time. Forral blocked her blow with his upraised sword, and they strained against each other, nose to nose, blades locked. Aurian heard the spectators gasp again. They thought she had made an error in closing with the burlier, stronger man, but her move had been deliberate. “Slowing up, old man?” she taunted softly. “Today’s the day I beat you, Forral.”