Chapter 267: Distractions
Distractions
The first lesson of Malday proceeded as usual. Thanks to his experience in staff fighting, going up against much better opponents such as Lothar from The Broken Crown, Martel always proved superior to the other fire acolytes. In some ways, the lesson felt like a waste of time; none of them could provide any challenge to help him improve. He already knew how to add strength to his blows or raise his magical shield when the situation called for it. If Reynard, ostensibly observing them spar, had any advice for how Martel could become better, he did not bother sharing it.
As for the other acolytes, they seemed indifferent, almost as if they considered fighting with weapons to be barbaric. More than once, when Martel landed a particularly good blow, he noticed his opponent preparing a fire bolt or other such offensive spell, though they always restrained themselves in the end. This lesson was solely to practise weaponry, which the other acolytes seemed to regard as beneath them. No doubt their attitude was another reason why Martel handily defeated them every time he faced them with a staff in hand.
The second lesson of the day, where they trained with a number of mageknights, did not always go the same way. Even if Martel considered himself among the stronger of the acolytes, the chaos coming from numerous people fighting in a skirmish made everything unpredictable. Martel could usually hold his own when they practiced in small numbers, but every once in a while, Reynard changed the circumstances to expose them to different situations. For this bell, he decided that the four fire acolytes would face up against six mageknights. Inferior in numbers, but the four battlemages would have their full array of spells.
The fire acolytes stood in one end of the arena, side by side. The mageknights stood in the other end, spread out. To his surprise, Martel saw his other teacher, Moira, appear and take a seat in the stands. Forgetting about her, he turned his attention to his opponents, waiting for a last signal.
"Attack!"
The mageknights burst into sprints while the fire acolytes unleashed their spells. All of them used fire bolts except for Martel, who unleashed a ray of flames. As it hit his first target in the chest, making the mageknight buckle over in pain, he swept the ray right to strike another mageknight, who likewise stopped dead in his tracks.
Looking to his left, Martel saw his allies had not all fared as well. While Harriet had felled another attacker, pelting him with spells, both Edward and William struggled. The latter had resorted to fighting with his staff, with the predictable lack of success as indicated by this morning's lesson. As for Edward, he had already been disarmed and received a thrust to his stomach; had the sword been sharp, it might very well have killed him.
Martel prepared a spell to aid his fellow acolyte when he locked eyes with Eleanor, pulling her sword back from her attack against Edward as she turned towards him.
He hesitated; he knew how much it hurt to be hit by a fire bolt. With empowered speed, Eleanor closed the distance between them and slashed her sword against his knee, making him struggle to keep his balance. With a kick, she sent him tumbling to the ground. His staff fell from his hand; sent to the ground, he had to yield according to the rules of the exercise.
It took only a few moments for the remainder of the skirmish to end. Harriet scowled at her fellow acolytes, being the last one to fall, and she added a few berating comments aimed at the others for making them lose the fight. Given that he had taken out two opponents, Martel considered any reproach towards himself to be unjust, but he lacked the energy to start an argument and chose to simply ignore Harriet instead.
The mageknights, meanwhile, grinned and congratulated each other, though the pair struck by Martel's spell seemed only able to grimace. While more of a drain on his spellpower than a simple fire bolt, the fire ray spell had proven its value in a fight like this against superior numbers.
"Back to positions," Reynard barked. "We go again!"
***
Although not his best performance, Martel quickly forgot about the day's combat lessons. As Reynard never bothered to instruct or actually teach the fire acolytes, Martel thought little of it as well. The important work happened on Peldays and Glundays, learning fire spells that he might actually use in a fight, even if he would never give Moira the satisfaction of admitting such. She seemed to derive more than enough pleasure from tormenting her students.
Checking for messages after class, Martel received one. He hoped it was not from Kerra; whenever he thought about the imprisoned woman at The Copper Drum, he felt uncomfortable, and he always tried to push the thought aside.
Martel,
An opportunity has presented itself.
Your two friends in the bridge district
would ask that you come around
so that we may discuss in detail.
Flora
Martel stuffed the note into a pocket and left the entrance hall, going to his room. He wondered at the exact nature of the opportunity, but he assumed it was a task of some sort like his previous dealings with the Night Knives. While payment had always been good for each of those outings, Martel had no particular need for money, thanks to Mistress Rana. He could afford the room for Julia and still have coin to spare for himself. Given his attempts lately to avoid any scrutiny into his link with the mercenaries, meeting with them would only undermine that, not to mention actually donning their colours and working with them again.
Martel opened his window with one hand and held the note outside with the other. Flames spread from his fingertips to lick up the parchment, consuming it. Summoning a gentle breeze, he scattered the ashes into the courtyard below and closed his window again.
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