Jabberwocky Part 2

Before long they met Elora's anxious parents and brother on the road. She embraced each of them in turn, and finally let her tears flow. They held her firmly as sobs of relief racked her body. When she was able to control her tears, she told them the entire story.

Tjaden listened, feeling both exhilarated at her obvious pride and uncomfortable with the abundant praise. After all, he wasn't the real hero.

The whole town knew before the day was out that Tjaden and Elora had survived an encounter with a frumious banders.n.a.t.c.h, if only for a short while. Methos, the town physician, was first to hear the account. He listened while sewing up half a dozen gashes in each of Tjaden's arms, using over one hundred and fifty st.i.tches. By the time Tjaden, his father, and Ollie left Methos' workshop, people in the street tried to stop them to hear the tale.

Dozens of people found reasons to come by the orchard over the next few days. Sami Thatcher decided to return the awl he had borrowed two years previous. Coles and Hettie, the bakers, came a day early for lemons. Galla, the town gossip, didn't even have a reason; she just wanted to hear the story. Each went away highly disappointed after finding his father as reticent as ever, and Tjaden unwilling to brag.

In truth, Tjaden wished n.o.body had learned about it. The fuss bothered him. For one thing he was embarra.s.sed at being unable to defend Elora by himself. She was mere heartbeats away from death because he had failed.

Every time someone else came to the farm, Tjaden shuddered. He just wanted to work the days away with his father until the upcoming Swap and Spar. His goal was to be a soldier in the King's Elite and there wasn't anyone in town who could gab him one step closer to the Academy.

The day after the attack, his father had asked if Tjaden was up to working. Tjaden said he could manage and that was the last time it came up. They went through their daily routine, working from sunup to sundown, ignoring the interrupting townsfolk as much as possible. The days were growing shorter, so they had to fit more work into less daylight.

Working alongside his father, Tjaden felt like a child. He thought he should be strong and fast enough to keep pace, but a half century of working in the orchards made it second nature for his father. Though Tjaden was growing, it wasn't fast enough to suit him.

When Ollie worked with him, Tjaden could tell his own speed and proficiency had increased immensely. He never tried to push Ollie or tell him what to do. He just picked up the tools and went to work and Ollie usually followed his example.

With the exception of the swelling tide of gossip, the days leading up to the Swap and Spar pa.s.sed uneventfully. The evening before the festivities, Tjaden went with his father into town to add his name to the list of pugilists.

The innkeep, Tellef, sat at a worn table in the day room of his inn taking names. In his younger days, as Tjaden often heard, he was a frequent Swap and Spar champion. Now middle aged and big bellied, the only reason he entered the battle circle was to referee. "Mikel," he greeted warmly. "Are you going to put wood to bone and teach the young men what it means to strike staves?"

"No," his father said with a chuckle. He was close to Tellef's age and hadn't entered the tournament for years. "Tjaden will be the only one from the family competing this year."

"Jolan and Hannon are going to fight, aren't they?" Tjaden asked.

"Yes, I suppose your brothers will compete. But they'll be in the men's group."

"As will I," stated Tjaden, feeling his heart race.

"Have you reached sixteen years already, lad?" asked Tellef.

Tjaden was resolute. "The older group is open to anyone, and I choose to compete against men."

His father took Tjaden aside a few steps and said, "You know you could easily best any boy in town at staves."

Tjaden nodded.

His father continued. "And you have to win the compet.i.tion for the King's Legate to consider you for the Academy. You're a natural with the staff, Son, but there's more than one man in town that might give you more than you can handle."

"I'll be sixteen in less than a fortnight, Father. I don't think it's fair for me to compete against boys anymore." His father listened intently. "Besides, the Legate won't be impressed by someone who beats kids. By winning the open compet.i.tion I can prove myself."

"And what about the st.i.tches?"

"My arms are practically healed." Tjaden slapped each forearm for emphasis. Pain betrayed the lie, but Tjaden tried to keep the wince from his face.

They stared at each other in silence. He wasn't surprised by his father's doubt, after the banders.n.a.t.c.h incident, but Tjaden knew he could compete with anyone in Shey's Orchard.

"My son will compete in the open compet.i.tion," he told Tellef without looking away.

Tjaden smiled. And I'm going to win.

The first day of the Swap and Spar started with vending, trading, and crafting, and ended with an auction. Tjaden, Mikel, and Lira spent most of the day selling grapefruit, oranges, and honey. They sold more than usual to the steady stream of townsfolk intent on hearing Tjaden's account first hand. He tried to deflect the questions before folk from outlying towns overheard and started rumors of their own.

Tjaden volunteered to pick up the gla.s.s his father had ordered for a framed mirror he was making for Mother.

"I need a break from all these questions," he explained.

His father handed him the coins with a knowing smile and Tjaden rushed to find the mirror maker's booth. His excitement peaked when he saw Elora tending it. She was singing quietly to herself while polishing a large mirror.

The small booth was lined with dozens of mirrors and he could see Elora's beautiful face from every angle. As always, the sight of her made him feel ten feet tall. If I could only talk to her without sounding like a fool.

She must have seen his reflection because she turned and their eyes met, his quickly falling to the ground. Her dark hair, smiling eyes, and wide grin always made him comfortable and nervous at the same time. He could make it through life as happy as a tove under a sundial if he could see just that smile once in a while.

"How are your arms?" Elora asked, reaching for one arm at a time and inspecting them both carefully.

"They're fine," Tjaden said, flushing. He'd stopped bandaging them, but wore long sleeves to avoid drawing attention. Judging by the stares he'd received all day, covering his arms only added to the intrigue.

Elora pulled up the cotton sleeves and softly traced the rows of st.i.tches in each wound. The tingle her finger sent up his arms and down his spine made Tjaden blush even more deeply.

"When will you remove the thread?" she asked.

"After the sparring tomorrow. If I got hit after taking them out it would break them wide open again."

As Elora finished inspecting his arms she said, "Tjaden, I didn't thank you for saving me." She rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

He'd never felt so pleased or tense in his life. "So is the mirror ready?" he blurted out, not knowing what else to say.

"Of course," Elora replied, smiling broadly at his uneasiness.

From the back of the makeshift shop she produced a rectangular tin-backed mirror. It wasn't the fanciest type of mirror her father made, but it was a step up from the bronze style. His reflection was clear enough to make him self-conscious.

How can she look at me without thinking that I failed her? Tjaden took the mirror in order to turn it away from himself. After handing her a silver and two coppers he hesitated a moment to appreciate the scene of a dozen Eloras. With the exception of the fiery image of her looming over the banders.n.a.t.c.h, it was the most beautiful sight of his life.

As he turned and walked away she called, "Good luck tomorrow. Those boys don't stand a chance." Tjaden didn't bother telling her that he wasn't in the boys division; he just walked away with the new gla.s.s and a smile that didn't leave his face for the rest of the day.

The first item up for auction was Zelena's turtle pie, which led to a heated bidding war between two brothers, Burt and Talex. Talex paid a staggering nine coppers for the pie and most people figured the brothers wouldn't speak to each other again at least until the next Swap and Spar.

The auctioneer took a bad step and tumbled off the stage, uninjured. Appropriately he was offering a cask of aged whiskey at the time. The crowd roared with laughter as Caleb shouted, "That must be some good swill!" The bid doubled in seconds.

Toward the end of the auction a Yew longbow made in Pala.s.siren was offered for sale. Tjaden was surprised to see his father bid on it since his bow was still in decent shape. Besides, this one looked too small for his large frame. It was a fine bow, maybe the finest in Shey's Orchard, but Tjaden couldn't figure out why his father would want it. Mikel won the auction, but it cost him ten silvers.

Ollie leaned over to Tjaden and said, "Looks like you're getting a new bow."

"Are you kidding?" Tjaden shook his head. "That bow cost more than my horse. If I'm lucky I'll get his old one."

"What would you want with that old nag?" Ollie asked with a wink.

"The bow, not the horse," Tjaden said.

Ollie shook his head and said, "Mark my words a" you'll be holding that bow come your birthday."

The boys spent the rest of the evening at the bonfire. Ollie glutted himself on double helpings at the traditional bird buffeta"quail, dove, borogove, duck, turkey, ostrich and even Jubjub. Tjaden ate a hearty yet moderate portion, wanting to be fresh in the morning for his first match.

The sounds from the festival trailed away as Tjaden walked home. He was only half a day away from the beginning of the first major turning point in his life. Excitement and antic.i.p.ation coursed through his veins, and there was no way he could sleep. Alone in the moonlight behind his house, Tjaden went through all the forms he knew. He and his staff incapacitated hundreds of imaginary opponents.

After half an hour of sparring, he was exhausted. Sitting in the cool night air, he visualized his victory the next day. Eventually he stopped sweating and his body cooled. Feeling both peaceful and eager, he went to bed.

The next morning, Tjaden stood with the other twenty-eight entrants waiting to find out who each would face in his first match. The auction scaffolding had been removed from the wabe. In its place the battle circle and rows of elevated seating for spectators had been erected. The names for the first round were drawn at random, with the first two winners facing each other in the second round and so on.

The men ranged in age from La.r.s.e, who had seen more than four decades, to Tjaden. As they stood lined up in the morning sun, most stretched and attempted to shake their jitters down their arms and legs and out their fingers and toes.

But the worry was lost on Tjaden. He never expected to experience anything as daunting as the recent encounter with the banders.n.a.t.c.h with Elora's life as the prize. Even when he became an Elite, the only stakes would be his life and the life of his fellow soldiers. As long as Elora was safe, he didn't think he'd ever worry about a battle.

Despite his calm, the importance of the day weighed heavily on Tjaden. If he didn't win, it would be two years until he had another chance. It might as well be twenty. But Tjaden was confident in his fighting abilities, and his self-a.s.surance only grew as he stood unmoving in a line of fidgeting men.

"Whit versus Bren," announced Mayor Tellef as the first names were drawn.

"Stefen versus Pratt."

Stefen was the defending champion. In fact, the last six champions came from Stefen's family. They were a rough crew with ten boys that lived in the hills and raised cows. Wrestling cattle their whole lives gave them the brawn they needed to be dominant in any physical compet.i.tion. In addition, they were a cruel bunch and the older brothers ensured that each succeeding boy was tougher than the previous. Their constant mistreatment had turned the younger ones into an excellent bunch of brawlers. Stefen was the youngest in the family.

"Thom Cooper versus Willam." Tellef's booming voice filled the air. "Talex versus Rox."

"Kill *im, Rox!" was heard from the crowd. No one was surprised to see it was Talex's brother, Burt, doing the yelling.

"Thom Thomson versus Hannon. La.r.s.e versus Elis. Damen versus Jace. Tjaden versus Brune."

Brune visibly paled and shrank upon hearing the match-up. Tjaden on the other hand, couldn't have been happier. Not only was Brune an easy opponent to warm up on, but he could get even for the older boy's actions of the previous week and previous years. Tjaden concealed his delight, determined to take vengeance in the battle circle.

Tjaden was also pleased that he wouldn't meet Stefen until the final round, a.s.suming they both made it that far. There was a possibility of facing two of Stefen's brothers before that, but he felt Stefen was the biggest threat. Focused on Brune and Stefen, Tjaden didn't hear the announcement of the last six match-ups.

The contest took place in a circle ten paces across. Each combatant's staff was wrapped with wool to soften the blows. The goal of the contest was to land five blows or force the opponent out of the bounds of the circle. Strikes to the head resulted in the loss of one point, or disqualification if the struck fighter was unable to continue. One loss and the tournament ended for that fighter.

The entire town was present, as well as the king's representative. He was one of ten Legates who traveled across Maravilla as a spotter for the King's Elite. Many towns and few Legates meant representatives of the Elites only attended every second year.

Only the finest fighters were invited to attend the training Academy, and it was cause for celebration if a town produced such a fighter. Not every man in the kingdom wanted to be an Elite, but those skilled enough to win a chance at the Academy had gained that skill after years of practice. In the history of the Academy only a handful had rejected an invitation.

The Legate watched both the boys' and the men's compet.i.tions to determine if the winners would be offered an invitation to the Academy. Runners up and other contestants were not eligible without the personal approval of Captain Darieus, commander of the Elites. Since the Captain was not in attendance, there would be no exceptions this year.

The boys' tournament took place first. The level of skill had dropped considerably when Tjaden decided to compete in the men's contest. Fourteen boys between the ages of eleven and fifteen fought for the t.i.tle.

Ollie had never mastered staff fighting, but had practiced some trick moves that kept the crowd entertained. He started his first match by advancing and parrying a few times. Then he stepped back out of range and dropped one end of his staff, holding it like a walking stick. In the exact instance his confused opponent dropped his guard, Ollie used his foot to kick the planted end of his staff up. It struck the gullible lad's staff and knocked it out of his grasp. Ollie easily finished off his unarmed opponent.

His second match was against Thom Thomson's son, Zee. He came close to winning by planting his staff and launching himself forward, leading with both legs. He caught Zee by surprise and sent him sprawling backwards toward the edge of the ring. Ollie turned and started doing a victory dance, thinking his opponent had fallen out of bounds. "I am the best! Ia"

An unexpected leg sweep brought him down flat on his back, and he blacked out.

"aam the best ever," he mumbled when he came around, picking up where he had been singing.

Zee won his next two matches to become the Youth Champion. He received the trophy, but the Elite Legate was not impressed enough to extend an invitation to the Academy.

The open compet.i.tion followed. Tjaden waited anxiously for the first seven matches to end. Stefen easily beat Pratt without getting touched. Much to Burt's dismay, his brother Talex advanced past Rox in a sloppy fight. The other five matches ended without incident.

Tjaden stepped confidently into the circle for his first fight, stealing a quick glance at Elora. She was smiling and even from a distance he saw a glimmer in her eyes.

Ten feet tall.

He was a little surprised when Brune entered the circle, instead of finding an excuse to forfeit. Brune's stance was defensive before the fight begana"a bulldog waiting for a beatinga"and Tjaden's opening a.s.sault sent him backing step by step out of the ring, landing in the gra.s.s. The crowd cheered as Brune rose quickly from the ground and stormed from the wabe.

As the sun crossed the sky the compet.i.tion became more intense. Tjaden's second match lasted longer than the first, but not much. He struck five blows without taking any damage. The hours and years he'd spent training with the staff paid off.

Upon reaching the third round he was one of eight fighters remaining in the compet.i.tion. His aggressive fighting style was countered by Langon's excellent defense and it turned into one of the longest battles of the day. Tjaden's tirelessness won the match for him. The final score was five to one, but Tjaden had expended much more energy than he wanted to.

Ten days had pa.s.sed since the encounter with the banders.n.a.t.c.h. The wounds on his forearms were holding up well, with only two spots bleeding through the st.i.tches.

Four fighters remained. Stefen facing Thom Cooper and Tjaden battling Algus, Stefen's brother. The antic.i.p.ation of the crowd reached a new height as Stefen and Thom Cooper stepped into the ring. The majority of the crowd rooted for Stefen, hoping a victory two years in a row would be sufficient to impress the Legate and earn him an invitation to the Academya"the first in Shey's Orchard in nearly twenty years.

As expected, Stefen handled Thom Cooper. Not overwhelmingly, but proficiently enough to earn a win. Immediately after the fight, he approached his brother Algus. With the anxious crowd calling for the next fight, the brothers stood looking into each other's eyes conversing in tones too low for anyone else to hear. While Tjaden couldn't tell for sure what was being said, he knew it went beyond brotherly well-wishes and congratulations.

Tellef called the next two names and Tjaden and Algus stepped into the circle. Tjaden concentrated on his task; the roar of the crowd was merely background noise. Only the two brothers separated him from victory and from a chance at being invited to the Academy. He felt as focused as when he faced the banders.n.a.t.c.h in the nearly impossible task of protecting Elora.

The only mode of fighting Tjaden knew or had ever considered was all out attack. In staves the goal was to strike your opponent, and he did it with a pa.s.sion that was unmatched in Shey's Orchard. He knew he was fighting at his best when he felt like a mighty waterfall, relentlessly buffeting his opponents.

Today was such a day.

The instant the fight began Tjaden advanced on Algus like a cat on a mouse. Surprisingly, Algus didn't attempt to defend himself or take the offensive, but turned his body full into Tjaden's first attack, allowing a solid blow to land on his upper arm. He gave up the point, but as Tjaden's blow bruised him, he swung a vicious, tight strike directly at Tjaden's exposed forearm.

A collective gasp from the crowd sucked the air from the arena as excruciating pain brought Tjaden to the brink of unconsciousness. Instinct took over and he kept up his ferocious attack. The scheme was a purposeful attack on Tjaden's injured arms, and not even worth a point. In the clarity of battle Tjaden realized what Stefen and Algus had been discussing before the match.

The sparring portion of Swap and Spar had always been attended by sportsmanship and respect. Purposefully injuring an opponent without attempting to gain a point was unheard of. But the chance for a family member to attend the Academy had tainted the fair play of the tournament.

Blood poured from Tjaden's left forearm and he could barely grasp the staff with his left hand, but that didn't stop him from seeking total victory over his unscrupulous opponent. An aggressive attack was the only thing that could keep him in the tournament. Algus was so busy avoiding being pummeled that he could attempt no strikes of his own. One by one, Tjaden earned the remaining four points required for victory. As soon as the fight was over he fell to his knees, clutching the injured arm.

Methos rushed in and inspected Tjaden's battered arm. As the doctor led him away, Tjaden caught a glimpse of Elora's concerned face, and some of the pain faded from his body.

Tjaden was disappointed to find that not only had dozens of st.i.tches been torn free, but his forearm was disfigured, now forming a lazy S shape. His father and Methos tried to convince him to give up and not risk further injury, but they had a better chance of convincing water to run uphill.

Tjaden bit leather as the doctor set the bone, then added dozens of st.i.tches twice as wide as the original ones. A splint, bandages, and a swathe were placed to prevent Tjaden from reflexively using the arm as a shield. He chose a shorter staff that could be hefted with one hand, more like a sword.

As Tjaden stepped back into the circle for his final battle, the surprised crowd exploded with applause, but as far as Tjaden was concerned only three people were present a" himself, his opponent, and a dark-haired girl with a light in her eyes that he could see half a wabe away.

Tellef wasted more breath trying to talk Tjaden out of fighting. When Tjaden refused to be convinced, Tellef backed out of the circle. Tjaden swung his stubby weapon on each side of his body and stared at Stefen.

As soon as Tellef announced the start of the fight the combatants rushed each other, both trying to gain the offensive. They each earned a point with their initial blows, but as Stefen regrouped for the next attack Tjaden was already making another thrust. Tjaden's one-armed awkwardness gave Stefen a chance to block, but Stefen had lost the offensive, and Tjaden's aggressiveness made it nearly impossible to recover.