“H-how did the written t-tests go?”
Emokha handed over a sheet of paper. “I am less than pleased. How were you two akkhommodated?”
“They said we couldn’t wait with the chosen so they stuck us with the servants. They weren’t too happy to see us but Ori got them to warm up to him.” Gloe made a face. “He washed dishes for hours. I mean it worked, but gross.”
Oresus riposted without looking up from the paper. “You eat g-gyoks.”
“No disgusting dishes involved. Blech.”
“What d-does this mean, ‘Formal Tactical Training Required?’”
“It is their euphemism for the fakht that I do not know their specifikh terms for various maneuevers. I khan deskhribe them in detail, and name them in my own language, but suggesting a double envelopment rather than khalling it ‘Nibal’s Gambit’ khould, and I qhuote, ‘introduce a destabilizing element into a khritikhal situation.’”
“Well that’s horseshit. You’re not going to be commanding human forces, much less ones from this kingdom.”
“Apparently there is substantial khonfusion on that point.”
“So then this line about m-military history is talking about you not knowing kingdom history?”
“Precisely.”
“D-diplomacy, etiquette, heraldry…” Oresus trailed off as he was reading.
“Is this typical bureaucratic bullshit or are they railroading you?”
Emokha sighed. “Too soon to be certain. For now I thinkh we must khontinue to play along. I will master all of this as qhuickhly as possible, but in our spare time we should train towards the more khonseqhuential.”
“That m-makes sense. I have s-some things I never had time to try, and I could work on imbuing more.”
“I can find some stuff to work on too, for now. We can’t cool our heels here indefinitely though.”
“I khonkhur. But let us makhe the best of the time we are forced to spend here.”
“Well, glad that’s settled. What’s next on the itinerary?”
“We are headed for some sort of exhercise khourt. More of Piestro’s physical training.”
“Joy.”
The court in question turned out to be for something called ‘ringball.’ The similarities to volleyball or tennis were obvious, but there were difference too. Instead of a net there was an enormous hoop suspended between the two sides. In order for the ball to legally change sides it had to pass through that hoop. The field was much larger overall, and each side was festooned with rings of various sizes and oriented in different directions.
The goal was to send the ball through a ring on the opponent’s side. Those easier to hit yielded less points than the more challenging ones. The ball could be sent flying with any part of a player’s body or by using an ability, and could be hit as many times sequentially as one liked. If it touched the ground the last party to touch it lost a point. The game could be played in teams or one on one. Overall not a spectacularly original concept, but one that facilitated movement and ability training to a certain extent.
Unsurprisingly Emokha turned out to be naturally good at it. Her six limbs, wide field of vision and flight made almost any incoming shot interceptable, at least conceptually. Her quick reflexes and solid judgement actualized those interceptions more often than not, so her defense was quite good. She wasn’t amazing offensively, so she tended to go for power spikes on easy targets, then try to hold her small lead with good defense.
After several victories in a row she finally met her match. The young woman was clearly healthy and athletic but didn’t demonstrate the superhuman physical capabilities of some of the other sojourners. What she did have was an incredibly applicable ability. Somehow she was able to alter the trajectory of the ball mid-air without touching it. A small semi-transparent sphere appeared each time she did so.
Emokha fought hard, but her defense was outclassed. The young woman was playing her heart out, rushing around at maximum speed and using her ability to the fullest. She ended up winning by seven points.
Afterwards Emokha walked around the ring and extended a hand. “Well-played. I am Emokha. You are truly skhilled.”
The woman’s flushed face lit up. “Thanks! You too! I’m Liuka, and I’ve been playing this game for a long time. It’s good training for my ability. I’d like to play you again sometime. The spin you were putting on the ball was really hard to deal with.”
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The answering laugh was slow and carefully articulated. Emokha was clearly trying hard to not be misunderstood. “And yet you clearly rose to the taskh. I also would enjoy additional matches in the future. It was a pleasant exhperience.”
“It’s a fun game, isn’t it? I love it. I played tennis for a while back in the day, but I was never in this good of shape, and when you add an ability on top of it, well it all just becomes that much more fun doesn’t it?” Her words came out in a stream of enthusiasm. “Good exercise, and good training, plus there’s the strategic aspect of it all. My dad used to beat me all the time despite my ability. He would just make better shot choices.”
“Interesting. I believe I would also enjoy a diskhussion of that aspekht of the game. Game theory is something…”
“I beg your pardon Lady Emokha” an unctuous man broke in. “Lady Liuka, may we have a moment?” He gave an almost microscopic bow, already turning away from the latter without waiting for a response.
“Oh…I guess…maybe I’ll talk to you later.” Liuka sagged slightly.
“I lookh forward to it. It was qhuite pleasant to meet you Liukha.”
That perked her back up a bit. “Same here! Have a great day!” She headed back to clean up her gear, a slight bounce in her step.
“I apologize for the inconvenience” the man said dryly, his eyes following the departing sojourner for a moment. It didn’t seem likely he was referring to his own interruption. “My name is Biur. I’m one of Headmaster Rektor’s aides.”
“What khan I do for you?”
“Well, it’s a bit awkward.” His tone did not match his words. There was no embarrassment or hesitation there. “It’s about your bodyguards. We’ve been receiving complaints.”
“From whom, khoncerning what?” Her voice was level.
“As to the former of course I can’t say. Discretion and all that. As to the latter…well just look at them.” He gestured.
The two were parked under a large tree that had only begun to shed its leaves. The last gasp of summer was in full force and it was actually a bit hot for fall. The two had made themselves comfortable in the shade. Ori was lying down and appeared to be dozing, while Gloe was sitting against the trunk hacking at a stick with his last fanatic dagger. Emokha carefully appraised them both. “They seem well.”
A tiny exasperated gasp escaped Biur. “Perhaps a little too comfortable though?” he asked a bit sharply.
“I see no reason they khannot be khomfortable. If something should okkhur it would be useful for them to be well-rested.”
“My Lady…” he seemed momentarily at a loss for words. “…such behavior is unseemly. The other party members are all comprised of carefully picked chosen who understand discipline and proper decorum. Bad enough that your supporters have not been so carefully vetted and prepared, but when you stack their bad attitude and work ethic on top of that it serves to sully our stellar reputation.” He gestured around. “As sojourners the eyes of the world are always upon you. Noblesse oblige, you understand?”
“No.” Her voice was level. “I am not a noble. I am not of your khountry or khulture. And I do not khare, at this time, about appearances. My associates have proven their mettle to me in the midst of demons. That suffices.”
Realizing he was floundering Biur switched tacks instantaneously. “I understand that they were with you during a traumatic period. Naturally you do not wish to leave them behind, and I would never ask you to forsake them. Such loyalty should always be rewarded.” The ring of false sincerity was quite convincing. “But this is not demon country. The threats here are different, more subtle but no less dangerous. I am merely suggesting that your retainers are not the best fit for this environment, not that you should cast them off. I’m certain more acclimated bodyguards can be arranged for now. When next you head into battle against the demons you’ll be fully prepared and can do as you please.”
“I remain satisfied with their performances. I see no need for replacements, temporary or otherwise.” Her voice was calm but a mild note of disinterest was not concealed.
Biur struggled with his words for a bit. “I appreciate…of course…perhaps a demonstration could convince you otherwise?”
“A demonstration of what, persuading me of what precisely? I must admit I am beginning to find your insistence on this topic somewhat vexhing.”
“I believe we can show you that your bodyguards’ skills are not up to the complexity of this environment. If it is so demonstrated will you…”
“Emokha!” Gloe’s yell came from just behind Biur, causing him to jump. As the former drew near he resumed a normal tone of voice. Almost. He still spoke just a hair too loud. “Hey, I’m taking up whittling. I’m going to start by carving you up a pair of custom training sabers. What do you prefer in terms of dimensions and such?”
“Excuse me” Biur’s voice could have kept ice cream from melting through a six hour power outage. “The Lady and I were in the middle of…”
“Oh hey, before I forget!” Gloe interjected again. “Ori wants to know if he should kill the assassin-type with the crossbow who was eying you up, or should we ‘question’ him first?” He turned back to Biur. “Oh sorry man, didn’t mean to interrupt you. Just figured I should get that out before it slipped my mind. Go ahead.”
Biur stared at him, fury and confusion fighting for primacy. Eventually Gloe’s words registered and he whipped his head back towards the tree. Oresus was no longer there. Struck by premonition Biur continued his spin, fixing his gaze on a high window of a nearby building. Sure enough there was Oresus, a crossbow in one hand, an unconscious man dressed in the academy uniform in the other.
“Biur, was it?” There was no amusement in Emokha’s voice. Sheer determination kept it so. “What is the akhademy policy regarding attempted assassinations? Also, regarding our prior khonversation, what type of demonstration did you have in mind?”
He wilted, just a bit. “Given the circumstances I believe we can delay such an uncomfortable scenario for the immediate future. I will take custody of the individual in question. If you would speak to your bodyguard?”
“Of khourse.” Emokha flitted into the air up to the window.
“Hey wait a minute!” Gloe turned and nodded to Biur. “If you’ll excuse me.” He rushed off in pursuit. “I still need to know what you like in a saber!”
Such was his self-control that Biur maintained his composure for the rest of the day. Although he was asked several times if he was feeling well or had a headache. Or stomachache.