stance.
As quickly as he could he drove the sword’s point straight ahead, directly toward Aeolus’ abdomen. But like the other times, the sword struck nothing.
Suddenly Tristan felt a sharp pain in his sword hand. He felt himself being launched into the air; then he landed hard on his back. He was dazed, but conscious enough to realize that his sword was gone. The force that had taken him off his feet had been unexpected, irresistible.
As his vision cleared, he raised up onto his elbows. Aeolus was standing over him with his dreggan in his hands. The old master was calmly examining the blade in the sunlight. He looked down at Tristan and smiled again.
“My apologies,” he said. “It seems that you have never been taught how to fall properly.” Holding one hand out, he helped Tristan to his feet. “That is the first thing we teach here.”
Scowling, the prince rubbed the back of his neck. “How did you do that?”
Aeolus handed the sword to him. “It is merely a technique, much like many others,” Aeolus answered. “But like all neophytes, you’re missing the point of the lesson.”
“Which is?” Tristan asked as he sheathed his sword.
“If you cannot kill me while I am unarmed, then how could you ever hope to best me if I had sword in my hand?” Aeolus answered.
Shaking his head again, Tristan smiled. “I stand convinced,” he said. “Even so, I have another question.”
“By all means,” Aeolus answered.
“Do you really commandK’Shari?” he asked.
“Yes,” Aeolus answered. “For me, K’Shari was attained only by a lifetime of intense training. But Wigg told me that a Forestallment calculation exists for imbuing the talent directly into one’s endowed blood. What an amazing concept! A lifetime of work, condensed and gifted in only a few moments. But as I’m sure you know, little is impossible when the craft is involved.”
“With your indulgence, I wish to see proof that you command the gift,” Tristan said.
Aeolus nodded. “I understand. But tell me-will you truly recognize it when you see it?”
As Tristan thought back to the times that Xanthus had been forced into torturing and killing innocent Eutracians, his face darkened. “I am all too familiar with its effects,” he answered.
Aeolus nodded. “If that is true, then you are one of the world’s few,” he said. “Wigg told me about Xanthus, by the way.”
Aeolus turned to look toward the courtyard’s rear wall. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself.
“My ears hear no begging,” he said quietly. “My eyes see no pain. My heart feels no remorse.”
At once the courtyard quieted. The singing birds and buzzing insects hushed and the wind stopped, stilling the tree branches. A deathly, almost familiar silence overtook everything, like nature’s life forces had somehow ceased to exist.
Tristan took a few steps closer to the martial master and looked into his face. The old wizard’s visage showed no strain whatsoever. For Aeolus, it seemed that calling forthK’Shari was as natural as drawing his next breath. Even so, Tristan couldn’t imagine the degree of hardship, sacrifice, and training that must have been required to reach this level of enlightenment-especially without help from the craft.
“Again, I stand convinced,” he said quietly.
Aeolus opened his eyes. Almost at once everything returned to normal. His gaze toward the prince was calm, knowing.
“You burn with curiosity for all things martial, do you not?” he asked.
Tristan nodded. “How did you know?” he asked.
“I can see it in your eyes. Satine had much the same look. It never left her.”
Aeolus led them back to the table, and they both sat. As he leaned closer, a concerned look came over his face.
“When the Conclave returns, you have every intention of asking Wigg to imbue your blood with its calculations, don’t you?” he asked.
Tristan was taken aback. That was indeed his desire, and had been ever since learning of the Forestallment. He knew that if Serena could be stopped and he returned to Crysenium as the Envoys wanted, commandingK’Shari might be immensely useful.
“Yes,” he answered. “How did you know?”
Aeolus smiled. “It was by no wizardly use of the craft that I guessed your intentions,” he answered. “It was simple logic. Who among us interested in the martial ways would not want such a thing? And to gain it so quickly and easily! What a feat that would be!”
Tristan looked down at his hands for a moment. “Quickly, yes,” he answered. “But perhaps not easily. Sometimes imbuing Forestallments into endowed blood causes terrible pain. I know firsthand. Under Failee’s orders, the sorceress Succiu placed many Forestallments into my blood against my will, and all at once. They are gone now. But the pain is not something I wish to reexperience. Even so, I believe thatK’Shari would be worth it.”
A faraway look came into Aeolus’ eyes. “Succiu,” he said softly. “What a beautiful but evil woman. Her devotion to the Vagaries was unquestionable.”
“You knew her?” Tristan asked.
“I knew all the sorceresses of the Coven,” Aeolus answered, “and Failee best of all. Those were such dark days for Wigg. I am truly glad that he and Abbey have found a measure of happiness.”
“I have a request of you,” Tristan said.
“And that is?”
“Come take up residence in the palace and train me-if only for a little while,” Tristan asked. “Abbey told me what you said aboutK’Shari- about how someone so quickly imbued with its Forestallment might need specialized physical training as well, so as to hone the gift. I’m not asking you to give up your life here and join the Conclave- that is up to you to decide. Nor do I think it wise that I explain all of what we are up against, unless you join us. But I am asking you to do something to help the Vigors in its hour of need.”
Aeolus thought for a moment. “Do you have any idea when the Conclave might return?” he asked.
“Not really,” Tristan answered. “I ordered them to attack the Citadel, a Vagaries stronghold. None of us knows what awaits them there. I can only hope that they will be successful, and that they will all return safely.”
Aeolus sighed, then nodded. “In the interests of the Vigors I will do this thing for you,” he said. “But I have conditions.”
“Name them,” Tristan answered.
“During our training sessions you will abide by my orders,” Aeolus said. “We train where I say and when I say. Time might be short before the Conclave returns. You will be a mere beginning student and I the master. During our sessions neither your royal heritage nor the fact that you are theJin’Sai will have any meaning for me. You must be prepared to train like you have never trained before. Nor will you question my orders, no matter how bizarre they might seem. In these things I will brook no disagreement.”
“Done,” Tristan answered. “Is there anything else?”
“I reserve the right to leave whenever I wish, and again take up my teaching here,” Aeolus said, “whether I have done all for you that I can or not.”
Tristan thought about that for a moment. After having spent this time with him, Tristan would have preferred that Aeolus stay on and join the Conclave. Wigg was right, he realized. Aeolus would make an invaluable addition to the group. But Aeolus’ demands seemed firm.
“Very well,” Tristan said. “I accept your conditions. But if duty calls I will feel free to walk away from a training session without your permission.”
“Of course,” Aeolus answered.
“When can we expect you?” Tristan asked. “I will tell the palace gnomes to make your quarters ready.”
“Sometime tomorrow,” Aeolus answered. “I need to settle some things here and select a student to carry on in my stead while I am away.”
“A Minion warrior awaits me on the street to take me home,” Tristan said. “I would be happy to tell him to stay and escort you to the palace tomorrow.”
Smiling, Aeolus shook his head. “As you have seen, I have no need of your warrior’s protection. I might be
