The Price of Magic by Gavin Neale

Author:Gavin Neale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2018-05-02T16:00:00+00:00

14

Differing Lessons

Thomas was happy that he was now living in King Richtus’s private quarters. He had been given the honour of open access to the king within his private area of the camp, and Thomas never left those quarters unless directed by the king.

He could still hear the constant banging of hammers on metal that rang out through the day but that did not concern him much. His arm throbbed where King Richtus had struck him moments ago; he was sure there were splinters in his arm but he dared not stop now.

‘Pain is your friend, Thomas. It tells you that your body is still alive. We do not seek out pain for its own sake, but we should not run from it.’ King Richtus swung his wooden sword, forcing Thomas to block a rapid series of blows. ‘Come now, you are barely even trying. Is this how you would represent me on the battlefield?’

‘No, your majesty,’ said Thomas, lunging awkwardly in an attempt to stab the tall elf in the throat.

‘Now,’ said the king, easily knocking aside Thomas’s sword and striking him so hard on the shoulder that Thomas dropped his wooden sword. ‘That kind of lunge might do for a foot soldier but it will do nothing against the kinds of enemies I need you to kill. You must commit yourself to such attacks. You are no use to me dead, boy. We are enemies until this training is done. You cannot care about my health and you cannot hurt me. Now pick up your sword.’

Thomas looked at the king and hesitated. His arm ached, his feet were sore from practising barefoot on rough earth, and he knew there was a lump on the side of his head from being struck earlier.

‘Pick up your sword, boy.’ King Richtus somehow managed to convey derision and concern as he spoke. He swiped with the flat of his blade against Thomas’s body, each word punctuated with a vicious blow.

‘Yes, your majesty,’ said Thomas. He stooped down and snatched up his sword, scything at the shins of the tall elf. Once upright, Thomas aimed a stab towards the king’s stomach and then began to swipe as hard as he could.

‘Better,’ King Richtus laughed. ‘I will teach you how to focus that anger and to delight in the pain that you will cause my enemies.’ The king easily blocked each swipe of Thomas’s sword. ‘You must work on your basic strokes. I will provide you with weapons that will send your enemies screaming to their deaths – but such gifts will be wasted if you can’t even swing a sword properly.’

The king blocked a final stroke from Thomas and launched himself forward, striking Thomas in the chest with his fist before hitting him on both arms as the boy fell to the floor.

Morgill Olkeyr watched his king beat the human child with a wooden sword and wondered why King Richtus was trying to educate such a limited creature. He waited until the human was sprawled on the floor again and coughed to get the king’s attention.

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