Chapter 19 #2
Torj the Bear Slayer crossed his arms over his considerably muscled chest, leathers creaking, and waited. His mere presence was powerful enough to demand silence,his build as imposing as the other Warswords.
His piercing blue gaze skimmed across them, pausing on Thea for a moment with a flash of recognition. He offered her a subtle nod of greeting before focusing back on the group before him.
‘Our purpose today is twofold,’ he stated without ceremony. ‘First, you will learn the nature of the totem you will be instructed to seek in your shieldbearer initiation test.’ The golden-haired warrior held one between his fingers.
Thea licked her lips as she studied it: a pair of crossed swords, the emblem that signified the first rank of a Thezmarrian warrior: Guardian .
‘These are worn by every Guardian in our forces on their right arm. However, those of you who are new to our units may not know that these totems are more than just a symbol of rank within Thezmarr. All are imbued with an echo of ancient magic that allows them to recognise any worthy warrior. During your initiation test, the totems will call to those destined for Thezmarr’s guild, emitting a signal to deserving shieldbearers only.
Once you have one, it is yours for life.
Without one, you are no Guardian of the midrealms, no warrior of Thezmarr.
When the time comes for your trial, you will find them in the most unlikely of places, in situations that will challenge you.
Fail that challenge, and you no longer belong amidst our ranks. ’
The Warsword’s words weighed heavy on Thea and she suddenly itched to move, to train. There was no point in standing idle when there was a totem somewhere out there, waiting to test her worth.
Torj cleared his throat. ‘So with that said, we are also here today to ensure you find a preferred weapon. For those of you who are already inclined towards something particular, follow your instinct.’ His eyes landed on Cal as he said this.
‘For those who are less experienced, I urge you to try several and determine what feels most right to you. We have the entire morning at our disposal, so take your time. Thezmarr is not interested in Guardians who rushed through the basics only to discover they can’t shoot for shit later. ’
One or two shieldbearers laughed.
‘Is it true that Warswords are masters of all weaponry?’ Thea asked loudly, half expecting to have her head bitten off.
‘Yes,’ Torj replied.
An awed silence followed.
Until Thea spoke again. ‘Will you give us a demonstration?’
‘What?’
‘A demonstration.’
Torj stared at her, his brow furrowed as he considered her request.
Thea panicked. Gods, have I insulted him? Asking him to perform like some act in a troupe? I should have kept my big mouth shut. Wren’s right. I bring myself nothing but trouble.
A wide, unexpected grin split across the Warsword’s face, the expression almost appearing a little manic with those ice-blue eyes. He strode to one of the racks and slid a spear from its position.
Thea blinked just in time to see a blur of movement streaking through the thicket.
A loud thud sounded.
Thea gazed with the rest of her cohort where the spear was deeply embedded in the target, right on the bullseye, its end still wobbling from the sheer force of Torj’s throw.
Mouth hanging open, she turned back to the Warsword, only to find him nocking an arrow to a longbow. Thea was struck by how powerful the warrior looked as he drew the string, his chest expanding as he did; an unwelcome reminder of Hawthorne’s prowess, punctuated by gentle touches.
The arrow whistled as it carved through the air.
Another thud sounded as it, too, hit the target.
Someone let out an additional noise of appreciation, and a moment later, Thea saw why. The arrow had shaved off a piece of the spear’s timber as it had shot into the target.
Before they could turn back, a trio of throwing stars flew between the trees, whipping so close past a shieldbearer that they sheared several loose threads from his cloak before piercing the mark in a perfect semi-circle around the arrow and spear.
‘Is that demonstration enough for you?’ Torj asked smugly.
He was met with only awed stares. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Get to it.’
Thea didn’t hesitate. She shoved her way through the crowd, determined to get her hands on a set of throwing stars.
At last she could put her Dancing Alchemist skills to the real test. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for.
Her body came alive with anticipation; she might not have been as big or as powerful as some of her peers, but Thea was fast and accurate.
She had been honing her blade-throwing skills for years and now was her chance to show her potential Warsword mentor exactly what she was capable of.
Ensuring she was in Torj’s line of sight, Thea took up a position in the centre of the clearing, and planted her feet apart, facing the target that still bore the proof of the warrior’s prowess.
She didn’t wait; she threw the stars in quick succession, the small metal points flying with startling precision, burying into the parchment and the tree trunk in three satisfying beats, exactly where she’d intended: a hair’s breadth beside those Torj had thrown.
‘Whoa,’ Cal’s voice sounded from behind her.
The rest of the cohort seemed to pause in curiosity as their comrade approached the target, studying her work with a slack jaw.
‘You’ve done that before,’ her friend accused.
‘No idea what you mean,’ Thea replied.
‘Oh, come on…’
Thea offered him a conspirator’s grin. ‘My sister and her friends have this game…’
‘Go on.’
‘It’s called Dancing Alchemists.’
She threw a star that landed between Cal’s boots, and he jumped back, swearing.
‘What the —’
Another left her hand in a blur and he leapt again with a yelp.
‘Now imagine you were an alchemist worker.’ Thea grinned and threw a final star, causing Cal to lunge out of its path dramatically.
‘See? Dancing Alchemists.’
Cal looked from the stars that had nearly severed his toes to Thea, letting out a surprised laugh. ‘Impressive.’
‘What would be more impressive…’ Torj emerged from the dense undergrowth, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
‘Is if my shieldbearers were actually training rather than laughing and jumping around like prized fools.’ There was an edge to his tone that made Thea’s stomach churn.
Had he not seen her throws? Had he not noticed the accuracy of her work?
‘Whitlock,’ he snapped at Cal. ‘Longbow, now.’
Cal surged into action, snatching the bow from the rack and shouldering a quiver of arrows. ‘Target?’ he asked.
Thea watched nervously as Torj considered the shieldbearer before turning his gaze upon the forest, scanning its depths for an undoubtedly impossible mark.
Time seemed to slow as he did so, and Thea knew it was now an exercise of humiliation for them both, for appearing to not take their task seriously.
At last, Torj pointed. ‘See that little red flag? About a hundred yards or so ahead? Mid way up that big tree.’
A hundred yards away? Thea followed the line of his finger and had to squint in order to see the tiny scrap of red fabric he referred to. What’s that doing up there, anyway?
‘Yes, Sir,’ Cal replied, already readying an arrow.
He can’t be serious… Thea stared.
But it was the most serious she’d ever seen Callahan Whitlock. He drew the string back expertly, his gaze trained on the target she could barely make out in the dense forest.
The arrow hummed as it soared through the air.
And impaled the flag into the tree.
Slowly, Cal lowered the bow.
Torj clapped him on the shoulder, smiling broadly. ‘Just as good as I remembered, Whitlock. Keep it up and you’ll be Thezmarr’s lead archer in no time.’
Thea was practically gawking. Cal had said his strengths were with long-range weapons, but this? He’d just pulled off an impossible shot. And Torj’s praise? Did that mean Cal had already caught the Warsword’s attention as a potential apprentice?
Cal merely shrugged, offering her a sheepish smile. There was a story there, that was for sure.
But apparently Torj hadn’t forgotten her role in the laughter and silliness.
‘You’re up, Althea.’ He motioned for her to take the long bow from Cal.
Her hands were trembling as she did, and she knew why. She’d only just earned a scrap of respect from some of the shieldbearers with her throwing star stunt, but it was very possible that she was about to lose it now.
‘Target?’ she asked, following the example Cal had set.
Torj picked up a spear and sent it hurtling through the forest. ‘That.’ About fifty yards away, the weapon quivered in a tree trunk from the force of impact.
‘Right…’ Thea said, gritting her teeth and squaring her shoulders.
She centred herself and called the memory of Hawthorne’s lesson to the forefront of her mind, allowing his words to wash over her, remembering the guidance of his hands on hers as she gripped the front of the bow and brought it up before her.
She focused on her target, still wobbling in its place, and set an arrow to the string.
Exhaling, she drew her arm back, reminding herself that her muscles needed to burn with the effort if she wanted to loose the arrow with enough force.
Now.
Thea could almost hear Hawthorne’s command in her mind, and she released the string.
The arrow sang as it sliced through the air, landing with a thud a few hands north of her mark.
Cal let out a low whistle of appreciation.
And Torj was nodding alongside him. ‘Not what I expected…’ The golden-haired Warsword studied her curiously. ‘Interesting technique.’
Thea looked to her hands, still gripping the longbow, frowning. ‘Is it wrong?’
‘I didn't say it was wrong. I said it was interesting.’
‘Why?’
Torj gave her a look she didn’t understand. ‘Because there’s only one warrior I know who holds a bow like that. And he’s not known for sharing his methods.’
‘Oh.’ Thea’s skin prickled.