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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1771339-The-War-Academy
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fantasy · #1771339
Rain, a bad mouthed elf, the HeadMaster of the War Academy, and a distrusted "friend"
Elm sprinted through the pouring rain. She kept glancing behind her, trying to see though the downpour. She was almost to the trees when she slipped. She and the HeadMaster both went flying.

“Staz!” Elm cursed. “Staz the tareng rain!” She tried to pull the HeadMaster back into a fireman’s lift, but there was too much mud. He kept sliding off. And the more he slid, the more she cursed. Finally, she managed to yank the HeadMaster back into position.

“Elm!”

Elm looked behind her and saw Mar. He was just visible through the rain. She turned and ran for the woods, but he was catching up. She stopped and turned, jerking the HeadMaster down in front of her like a shield. She pulled out her sword.

“Don’t come any closer or he gets it,” she warned Mar. “I mean it.”

“Give it up. You’re outnumbered ten thousand to one. Come quietly and they’ll be easier on you.”

Elm snorted. “Oh, sure. I won’t be killed on sight, just hauled away for who knows how long. Much better.” She started to back up.

“Elm—”

“The entire Academy is corrupt and power mad, starting with this little—”

“Shut up, Elm. This is extreme, even for you.” Mar took a step forward, following her.

“It won’t matter what I do, because this—”

“Shut it. Drop the HeadMaster and I’ll let you walk away. That’s a better offer than you’ll get from anyone else.”

“I’m not leaving him here. This self-serving piece of filth is going to pay. I don’t care what the Academy’ll say. He is guilty. And stay where you are.”

“Guilty of what?” He took another step.

“Breach of security—breach of trust—betrayal of state secrets—spying in the first degree—abuse of magic—corruption—”

“What did he do?”

“He’s got the thoughts of every leader on the island in his office. Magically recorded, no permission, reads them whenever he feels like. And I told you to stop.”

Mar frowned slightly and ran his fingers through his hair. “Proof,” he said. “Have you got any proof?”

“All the proof you could ever want.”

“Here?”

She shook her head. “In his office.”

“We’re not in his office.”

“Then trust me.”

Mar raised one eyebrow. “Elm, I know you’re under a lot of stress right now, but you should be thinking straighter than that.”

“Fine then, don’t trust me. I guess the past season doesn’t matter.”

“Elm, you’ve hated and distrusted me the whole time.” He slowly began circling to the left, trying to get behind her.

“No, I haven’t. And stop that.” He slowed considerably, but didn’t stop completely. “Maybe I didn’t trust you, but still. Just because I don’t understand anything you do, or enjoy spending time with you, or even like you... That doesn’t mean I hate you. And I said stop.”

Mar raised his other eyebrow, but did stop moving. “Can’t you just give me the benefit of the doubt?” Elm asked.

“Why should I?”

“Stop reaching for that knife unless you want him dead. And because Becca would trust me.”

“What does her over-trusting nature have to do with this?” Mar crossed his arms.

“You should believe what she thinks.”

“Why? Because we’re friends? Grow up, Elm. Things don’t work like that in the real world.”

Elm turned red with anger. “Look, you moron, just because—”

“And now you’re calling me names. What are you, three?”

Elm’s face contorted. “Look, I don’t give a staz what you think. Just stay where you are and we won’t have any problems with each other. I won’t kill the HeadMaster here, and you won’t be able to turn me in. We both win.”

“Not quite.” He came forward again.

“I said st—”

A wordless roar from the direction of the Academy interrupted her. Elm’s head snapped to the right, and she saw an unorganized army running toward her. She started to turn back to Mar, but he had taken advantage of her momentary distraction. He was directly in front of her, a knife and a sword drawn, the sword coming down to strike. Elm squeaked—something she couldn’t help and would later regret—and tried to pull the HeadMaster up to block the blow, stumbling backwards. Mar was too fast, however, and his sword cut into her arm. It was barely stopped by her armor. Elm tried to get her sword in front of her and pull the HeadMaster up, but it was no use. Mar had her outclassed, and within a minute she was disarmed. As her sword fell, she yanked the HeadMaster up and hid behind him. She kept trying to reach the trees, stumbling backward. Mar shook his head.

“Won’t you ever give up?” he asked.

“Not to you,” she snarled.

Mar shrugged. “Your choice.” He sheathed his weapons and caught one of the HeadMaster’s trailing hands. Mar pulled hard, jerking Elm off balance. She fell forward, and he caught her in the jaw with a reverse punch. Her head went back, and he pulled on the HeadMaster again. Elm dropped him, and reeled back, staring wide-eyed at Mar. She backed up, trying to get away from him. He shook his head again, and caught up easily. Grabbing both of her arms, he pinned them behind her. She struggled. The mob was almost upon them.

“This is why most people don’t go looking for a fight with the War Academy,” Mar said. Elm spat on the ground, shouted some unrepeatable words, and then renewed her struggles. Mar sighed. The army was almost on them.

“Stay quiet and do what I tell you,” Mar growled, “unless you want them to lynch you.” Elm replied by stomping on his foot. He shook her roughly. “Cooperate or I’ll knock you unconscious!” Elm tried to throw him a venomous look over her shoulder.

“Fine,” she spat. Mar’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile.

“Good.” He started to say something else, but was interrupted as the army reached them. It surged around them so they were completely surrounded. Everyone’s weapons were out, and the jeers and catcalls were deafening. Then the man directly in front of Mar raised his fist and silence spread outward. In many ways, it was more intimidating than the noise.

“Good work, Nemt1,” he said. “Now, turn her over.” He leered at Elm. “I’ll finish this.”

Mar’s grip on Elm’s arms tightened. “With all due respect, Master, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The master looked at Mar icily. “That was an order, Nemt, not a request.” He put a slight emphasis on Mar’s rank.

Mar nodded. “Yes sir, but—” He stopped as he spotted a friend in the crowd. “Becca!” She looked up. “Phoenix!” A smile touched her lips and she closed her eyes. A moment later, a phoenix leaped into the air where a girl had been before. It soared forward and Mar lifted Elm up to meet it. The master cried out in surprise, and he and a few others lunged forward, trying to grab Elm. They were too late. In the blink of an eye, the phoenix was wheeling away with Elm dangling from its claws.

The master glared at Mar furiously. He kept clenching and unclenching the hilt of his sheathed sword.

Mar looked back at him cooly. “I know that was insubordination. Who should I give my weapons to?”

The master pulled his sword out of its sheath and pointed it at Mar. “You’ll pay for that.”

Mar shrugged, still apparently uncaring. “You can’t do anything. Too many witnesses.”

The master nodded, hate and anger contorting his features. “Maybe not,” he growled. “But I’ll remember you. That’s a promise.” He roughly sheathed his sword and turned his back on Mar. “You!” He jabbed a finger at a nearby faet2. “Take his gear. Don’t lose it. Ericson—” he turned to the soldier who’d picked up the HeadMaster from where he’d fallen. “Do you need help?”

The sant3 shook his head. “No Master.”

“Very good. Back to the Academy then, double time. Move!”

Behind the master, Mar released the breath he’d been holding. Thank the gods, he thought.



*****



The dungeons underneath the War Academy were damp and poorly lit. Despite being clean enough, an unpleasant oder hung in the air. The walls, floors, and ceiling were made of stone slabs, and were arranged in a grid pattern of cell blocks. Each block contained six cells, and were connected by endless hallways. It wasn’t uncommon for the guards to get lost for days at a time. The blocks and halls were all uniform, so after a few wrong turns it was next to impossible to figure out where anything was.

Mar, Becca, and Ayre were in the dungeons now, outside one of the few cells that had a guard stationed by it.

“We don’t need long,” Becca was saying. “Just a few minutes.”

The guard looked at the skeptically. “How do I know you’re not here to break her out?” he asked. “That’s another elf you’ve got there.”

Ayre’s jaw tightened. “If we were going to break her out, we’d knock you out first and break down the door,” he said. Becca slapped his arm surreptitiously. They had agreed earlier that she had the best chance of getting them in.

“Look, you’ll be right out here,” she told the guard. “What could we do?”

The guard frowned at them, then sighed. “Alright, go in. But no funny business.” He unlocked the door, and the three of them went in with Ayre leading the way. He pulled Elm—who had been waiting nervously behind the door—into a bone-crushing hug.

“Gods,” Elm gasped. “I’m fine, Ayre, really.”

Mar was studiously ignoring the elves, so Becca interrupted them. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but we don’t have that long.” She glanced at the door, which had just banged shut.

“Of course,” Elm said, extracting herself from Ayre. “You want an explanation.”

“That would be nice,” Mar said, leaning back against the wall. Elm frowned.

“What’s he doing here? I thought he’d be in a cell of his own for insubordination.” She was very pointedly talking to Becca, but Mar answered anyway.

“The HeadMaster pardoned me and Becca once he came around. He thought we did the right thing, and since I saved his life he was willing to look the other way.”

Elm made an exasperated noise and turned on Ayre. “Did you really have to bring him? He’s the reason I’m here in the first place.”

Ayre opened his mouth, but Mar was quicker. “Yes, because you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t saved your life. You’re welcome.”

“He didn’t have a choice,” Ayre said. “And he did save you.”

Elm rolled her eyes, ignoring his second comment. “Oh yes, the inconvenient oath everyone complains about. I’m sure you were completely irresponsible for everything you did.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Mar replied, eyes gleaming. “I rather enjoyed some parts, and I would’ve done it anyway.”

Before Elm could do more than glare at Mar, Becca intervened.

“Not now. Please?” She looked at Elm. “The oath’s magical. You know that. He didn’t have a choice. You’re just lucky it left enough freedom for him to commit insubordination like he did. And Mar?” She turned. “If you won’t behave, leave.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words, and Mar nodded.

“Why, Elm?” Ayre asked, getting back to the point. “Why? I mean, you just got back.”

Elm leaned her forehead against his arm and sighed. “It all started this morning. When we got back here last night, Leann told me to go the the HeadMaster’s office in morning so he could do who-knows-what. I think it was because I came back. Supposedly, they don’t care if you leave as long as you don’t come back.

“Anyway, I got there this morning and his assistant waved me in. I went in, but didn’t see him. He’s got a big office. I was in the main room, but there were a couple of doors leading off it. One of them was open, so I tried it first. It led into a library. When the HeadMaster saw me come in, he stopped talking really quickly. I’m not exactly sure who he was talking to, I could only see the back of her head. I think it was a girl, though.

“ ‘What are you doing here?’ the HeadMaster asked me.

“ ‘Master Leann sent me,’ I told him. ‘I quit about a season ago, and I came back last night with two nemts.’

“He nodded. ‘Yes, I remember. Go back into the main room. I’ll deal with you in a moment.’

“I nodded and turned to leave. I hadn’t seen the bookshelf behind me, though, and I knocked it over. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. I bent over and started to pick up the books.

“ ‘Out!’ I looked up, startled by the tone of voice. The HeadMaster’s face matched it. It was red, and he was coming toward me. He’d suddenly become really angry, and I quite naturally got defensive.

“ ‘I said I’m s—’

“ ‘Leave! Now!’ He shoved me out the door and slammed it behind me. I scowled at the door, then realized I was still holding one of the books. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I started flipping through it. It was written in Elven, which was a bit of a surprise. I turned by to the cover and froze. Konstiga—my mother’s name—was printed onto the leather. There was a rune embossed underneath it.

“I opened the book again, more cautiously this time. I started looking through it. It was a diary. My mother’s diary.

“I realized I was trembling with anger and fear. If he could make a diary like this for my mother, who else could he do it for? Who had he already done? Were the rest of the books on that shelf diaries like this? It could explain why he got mad when I touched them.

“The door to the library swung open, and the HeadMaster came out. He’d regained his composure, but he still shut the door behind himself.

“ ‘Now then, Elm—’

“ ‘What is this?’ I demanded, waving the book in his face. ‘Why do you have this?’

“His face changed. I don’t really know how to describe it. It sort of looked like a mask had fallen off to show something hard and unfeeling underneath. He didn’t say anything, but reached for his sword. I knew I couldn’t win a duel with him, so I backed up and started reaching for magic. It wasn’t easy—it never is for me—but I found it as he started coming toward me with the sword. I grabbed a nearby vase and threw it at him. He deflected it with his sword, and the water inside it went everywhere. Perfect.

“I focused on the water on his face, drawing it together into a bubble around his mouth and nose. He rubbed his face, then realized what was happening. He took a deep breath and lunged at me. I finished the bubble and ran, throwing open the first door I saw. I slammed it behind me and leaned against it, trying to keep it shut. I looked around and realized I was in a bathroom. And it didn’t have another way out.

“I heard some muffled banging on the other side, and then his sword sheared through the door, right next to my head. I swallowed a half-formed scream and leaped back. The last thing I needed was for someone to hear me and come investigate. The sword started to slide back out of the wood, then it stopped. I heard a thump outside the door and instantly released the magic. I didn’t want to kill the HeadMaster by accident. I tried to open the door, but there was something in the way. I sighed and shoved on the door until it was open enough that I could slip through. The HeadMaster was lying unconscious by the door. He’d been blocking it.

“I knelt next to him and checked his pulse, just to make sure he wasn’t dead. Then I drew my sword and went back into the library, ready to defend myself. The room was empty, though. The girl was gone. I kept the sword where I could reach it and started going through the books I’d knocked over. There were a lot of diaries. After I found one though, I decided it was time to leave.” Elm reached under her shirt and pulled out two slim, leather-bound books. “This is my mother’s.” She held up one of them. “And this...” She lifted the other one. “...is mine.”

This was greeted by silence. Eventually, Ayre broke it.

“That lying bastard,” he said. Elm smiled fiercely and squeezed his hand.

“Exactly,” she said.

“How did you get outside?” Becca asked, her eyes wide.

Elm shrugged. “I looked through the other doors. One was a back way out.” Her smile became vindictive. “His own security turned against him. Irony is beautiful.” There was another silence.

“How could you be so stupid?” Mar exclaimed. Ayre stiffened, but Mar continued. “The HeadMaster’s one of the most dangerous and influential people in Zia! What were you going to do with him?”

“I was going to take him back to my people,” Elm said, drawing herself up with wounded pride, “since he made diaries of us.”

Mar nodded sarcastically. “Oh, good plan. It’s only, what, fifty leagues? Plus you’d have to cross the Uragnee River. Easy to do without being discovered. Especially with a prisoner.”

Elm was glaring daggers at Mar, but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t.

“Who knows when she would’ve gotten close to him again?” Ayre asked angrily. “If she hadn’t, we wouldn’t know there were multiple diaries.”

“And he knows you know!” Mar said. “Why do you think he wanted to kill her? If any of that even happened.”

“Mar,” Becca said quietly, putting a hand on his arm.

“If it’s—you mean you—why you little—” Elm was foaming at the mouth, and completely incoherent. Ayre just looked at Mar venomously.

“Mar, I think you should leave,” Becca said quietly. He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.

“Meet me later,” he said. She gave him a tiny smile and he knocked on the door. It swung open and he strode out of the cell.

Inside the cell, Becca sighed. “I’m sorry,” she told the elves. “He’s not normally like that.”

“Yes he is,” Elm said. Becca stayed silent, and Elm exhaled forcefully. “I’m telling the truth.”

“I know,” Becca said. “And so does Mar. He just doesn’t want to believe it. The Academy means a lot to him.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Ayre said. His eyes were hard, and Becca frowned.

“Maybe not, but give him a break. Elm’s not exactly the easiest person to get along with either. No offense.”

“Too late,” Elm said. “Why don’t you just leave too?”

“That’s exactly what I mean!” Becca said.

“Just leave,” Ayre said. Becca scowled, but knocked on the door and headed after Mar. Ayre turned to Elm. “I’m sorry this happened.”

She shrugged. “It’s not your fault. And Becca’ll probably come around, even if Mar doesn’t. She’s usually more reasonable than this.”

“I wasn’t just talking about them,” Ayre said. “This whole situation.”

Elm shrugged again. “Also not your fault.”

“I know, but—”

“Elf, I want you out of there!” The guard hadn’t closed the door after Becca left, and had apparently decided that Ayre couldn’t be trusted alone with Elm.

“I’ll come back later,” he whispered to Elm.

“I know you will,” she whispered back. He kissed her gently, ignoring the guard’s complaining. Then he reluctantly turned and left, pointedly ignoring the guard. The door slammed shut, and Elm was left in the cell by herself. She sank to the floor and put her face in her hands. After a few minutes, she sighed and reached for her diary. Since she didn’t have anything better to do, she started to flip through it.
© Copyright 2011 Solembum (solembum at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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