“True,” Relam agreed, looking up and down the street. “Master Agath actually did tell you to wait, though?”
“You doubt me?”
“No. But I wondered if you might be part of the test.”
“How so?”
Relam thought for a moment. “Well, since you were the first to arrive, Master Agath might have told you to stay out here and make us wait while all the time we’re supposed to be finding another way in.”
“Interesting theory,” Cevet said, eyes still closed. “But that is all it is, a theory. I told you everything I know, everything Master Agath told me. We wait.”
“Or we find another way in,” Sebast snarled, giving the door a final kick. “Jatt, give me a boost.”
“Boost? What kind of boost?” Jatt asked, looking around for a clue.
“He means give him a lift scaling the wall,” Delan explained, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, I can do that,” Jatt said confidently. “Climb on up, Sebast.”
Sebast jumped up onto Jatt’s back, scrambling around until he was precariously perched on Jatt’s shoulders. Garenes then reached out for the top of the wall, his fingers reaching to just below the edge.
“Get closer, idiot!” Sebast snarled.
Jatt lurched closer to the wall obediently, causing Sebast to sway precariously and curse the bigger cadet soundly. Jatt absorbed the curses without comment, maneuvering so his back was supported by the wall.
Sebast reached up again, and his fingers closed over the top of the wall. “Ha!” he shouted triumphantly. As he began to haul himself up, there was a rattling noise from behind the gate. Jatt twisted around curiously to see what the noise was, forgetting that Sebast was still on his shoulders. Garenes lost his footing and quite suddenly found himself hanging on to the wall with only the tips of his fingers.
“Jatt! Curse you, get back here!” he shouted.
The rattling ceased and Relam distinctly heard a bolt being drawn back. He stood slowly, dusting himself off, and stood facing the gate calmly, hands clasped in front of him. Cevet followed his example. Jatt stood where he was, watching the gate, while Knet and Delan ran to where Sebast was dangling and began trying to get him down.
Then, two things happened, almost simultaneously. First, the gate opened and Master Agath stepped out of the archway. The sword master was dressed simply in tunic and pants, his sword at his hip, his expression the picture of serenity as he surveyed the cadets. Then, Sebast let out a terrified yell as he lost his grip on the wall and plummeted earthward. It was not too far to fall, but he landed awkwardly, careening into Knet and Delan so that the three fell in a heap on the road, Sebast groaning and winded.
Relam and Cevet turned away to hide grins. As far as they were concerned, the trials were off to an excellent start.
Chapter 6
Master Agath paused to survey the three downed cadets, eying them dispassionately. The lordlings quickly got to their feet and stood at attention, Knet practically shaking from nervousness.
“Good morning,” the sword master said quietly.
Relam exchanged a glance with Cevet. This was unusual to say the least. Normally, Agath was loud, energetic, and commanding. This morning, he seemed almost . . . emotionless. Tranquil.
“Come with me. All of you.”
Master Agath turned sharply and led the way back through the gate. Relam quickly followed, along with the other cadets. The moment they were inside, Tar Agath shut and locked the gate again.
“The trials begin now,” the sword master said ominously. “Be warned. These tests are designed to push you to your absolute limits, see what you are capable of. They are not for the faint of heart.” He looked around the group, somehow managing never to meet anyone’s eyes directly.
“Relam. Sebast. Stay here. The rest of you, into the assembly hall. I will come for you when it is your time.”
The other four cadets trooped off towards the assembly hall, with many a backward glance. Master Agath waited until the door had closed, then turned to Relam and Sebast. “Practice swords, now.”
The two cadets quickly retrieved wooden practice blades from the rack leaning against the outer wall of the barracks. “Scared, princeling?” Sebast sneered.
“Not hardly,” Relam muttered in reply. “You won’t win any bouts today.”
Sebast scowled and followed Relam back to where Tar Agath was waiting. The sword master looked them up and down critically. Relam met the dispassionate gaze confidently and calmly. He did not look to see what Sebast was doing.
“You will fight three practice bouts against each other,” Agath explained. “You are familiar with this drill, yes?”
“Yes,” Relam replied immediately.
“Good. This will serve as an excellent warmup for what lies ahead. Begin.”
For a moment, Relam and Sebast just stood there, surprised by the sudden start. Then, Sebast whipped his practice sword around with a roar and attacked. Relam ducked and backed away, cursing his slow reflexes. There was no opportunity to win this fight in a few blows like his father had taught him, not while Sebast held the momentum. He would have to best the other cadet with skill, not tricks.
Relam gave ground quickly, parrying Sebast’s attacks with his own sword. Their wooden practice weapons cracked loudly with each impact, and sometimes splinters flew from the blades. Relam hardly felt these though, focused as he was on his adversary.
As he retreated, Relam watched Sebast. The lordling was letting instinct and frustration take over as his best attacks were foiled. He was starting to overcommit, leaning forward as he attacked to deliver more power.
A little more, Relam thought to himself as he parried the latest blow. Sebast struck again, a side cut this time, and the young prince made his move.
Instead of parrying with his blade, Relam deflected Sebast’s sword. As a result, Sebast,
