Martin, thankfully, allowed Indenuel the peace and quiet to read his book, and after a while of sorting out his nerves and anxieties, Indenuel did manage to read a few pages before they stopped for lunch. The coachmen were quick to help them out of their carriages before they began to prepare a lunch. Nathaniel walked over. “Indenuel, have you gotten a chance to read any of the book?”

“Yes,” Indenuel said, biting back the desire to thank him for giving him something to distract himself during this first half of the journey.

“Perfect. I’ll go look for some sticks. We don’t want to practice with swords quite yet,” Nathaniel said.

“Fine, fine,” Indenuel said.

Nathaniel left, and Indenuel quietly backed away until he was in the shadows of the carriages. Adosina was talking with Rosa, and he intended to stay hidden to keep her from noticing. Martin was walking around, almost like he was looking for Indenuel, which made Indenuel sink further into the shadows. He didn’t want to see Martin either.

“There you are,” Nathaniel said.

Indenuel stiffened but didn’t jump. “Yes. Hello.”

“Come, we must stay well within the carriages. Bandits wouldn’t dare attack a High Elder carriage, but we must be careful anyway,” Nathaniel said.

“Of course.”

Indenuel followed Nathaniel toward the small camp that was still being prepared. He handed Indenuel a stick. “Now, what have you learned from the book so far.”

“Well, this stance,” Indenuel said, holding the stick in his right hand, his right foot in front of him with his left behind. “Basic stance, right?”

“Correct,” Nathaniel said, changing a few things with Indenuel’s feet.

“And… that’s it.”

“It’s a great start. Now, have you ever pretended to sword fight in Mountain Pass?” Nathaniel said, standing in the basic stance himself.

Indenuel swallowed, trying not to be intimidated by how perfectly Nathaniel stood. “He’s had years of training. He’s a captain in an army. He should be better at this than you.”

“None, sir,” Indenuel said.

“None? No playing or wrestling with the other boys in your village?” Indenuel shook his head, still holding the stick. Nathaniel seemed to understand the tricky subject he had stumbled on. “That’s alright, Indenuel. It’s better. You’re like a fresh, clean canvas. I don’t have to make you unlearn anything.”

Indenuel tried to nod encouragingly. Nathaniel quickly went through the steps of a thrust and a block. Indenuel practiced with his stick as Nathaniel showed him. Jab, block, parry. He was glad they weren’t practicing with actual swords.

“Alright, I want you to try and get me,” Nathaniel said. Indenuel paused long enough for Nathaniel to notice. “Come on, it’s alright.” Indenuel remembered Lucia’s strong warning. Never hit an upper-class citizen. Never. They would beat him, whip him, and throw him in the dungeon. It was better to walk away. “Indenuel?”

He nodded, leaping forward with a jab that was hardly a jab. Nathaniel blocked it with ease.

“Good. Good. Now it’s your turn to block,” Nathaniel said.

Before Indenuel had time to react, Nathaniel went for a blow. Indenuel wasn’t expecting it. He tried to tell himself it was a stick, they were learning to swordfight, but he saw it come toward his face and remembered Lucia’s other word of caution. If an upper-class citizen wanted to hit him, he needed to curl up and take it. Or run. He must never, never fight back.

Indenuel dropped his stick, backing out of its reach even as he realized what he was doing. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting it. Sorry. Let me try again. I’ll expect it this time,” he said, picking up his dropped stick and doing his stance again. “It’s different. We’re sword fighting. I’m sorry. You weren’t… you’re not actually…”

Nathaniel still held the stick, watching Indenuel carefully. “It’s alright. I’ll go slower.” Nathaniel struck at him again. Indenuel blocked the stick, but he had come down so hard, the stick fell out of his hands and landed on the ground. Nathaniel pointed his stick to Indenuel’s chest. He leapt back once again out of instinct before holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Dropped it. Sorry.”

Nathaniel paused. “Indenuel, you will make mistakes in learning. You don’t need to apologize for them.”

“Right. Sorry.” Indenuel winced. “I mean… thank you. Sorry. It’s just… you’re in a higher social class than me.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Nathaniel’s face before he dropped his stance. “No, I’m not.”

Indenuel stared at him. “Oh. Right.” He kept forgetting about him possibly being the Warrior. It was harder to remember when a stick was coming at him.

“Alright, I know where to start. We’ll practice stances, but not at each other for now. You can also work on building muscle during this time. It will help you keep ahold of your stick. Let’s get you some lunch.”

It was then that Indenuel noticed everyone else had a plate of lunch. Adosina and Rosa were still talking to each other farther away on the other side of their little camp, though they were glancing over at them every so often. Diego and Aaron were sword fighting with their own sticks as Riel, the tutor, was showing Tomas and Adrian a diagram from a book while Eduardo was reading at the table. Martin was going through papers while eating. Two servants handed Indenuel and Nathaniel a plate of rice, eggs, and ham.

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“An extra serving for Indenuel, please Derio,” Nathaniel said.

Derio bowed before heading toward the pot. Indenuel stared at his plate. The serving of food was already far more than what he could eat already.

“I…”

Another scoop was added to his plate, and Indenuel did nothing but smile and lift his spoon to begin eating.

“I shall ask Father to ride with some of my boys so you and I can talk more of the technical asp-”

“Yes please,” Indenuel said. Nathaniel paused, not saying anything, which drove Indenuel to fill the silence. “It’s not that I, I respect Martin completely. It’s just… I’m not…” It came out of his mouth before he could stop himself, “I have no intentions of courting your sister.”

Nathaniel clearly wasn’t expecting that answer, blinking a few times in shock. Indenuel lifted the plate to his face and began shoveling rice into it.

“My father is of course anxious for my youngest sister to wed,” Nathaniel said.

Indenuel winced. “Can we just pretend I never said anything?”

Nathaniel tried way to hard not to smile. “Of course. It will be good for Father to ride with my boys to get a chance to see how much they’ve grown the past year.”

Indenuel nodded as he continued to shovel the rice in his mouth to keep him silent.

***

Martin finished going through the letters and memos he had been sent from both his house and the other High Elders. He gave Derio back his plate. “Wonderful, Derio. Reminds me of home.”

“Thank you, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Derio asked.

Martin looked through the letters in his hands, remembering Indenuel and Nathaniel practicing their swordplay. Martin of course didn’t expect Indenuel to be a master swordsman, but the flinching and the dropping of the stick made him realize how little the boy knew of basic self-defense. They had been lucky with the bandits between Mountain Pass and Tavi. Indenuel had been so skilled in his four gifts that it frightened the bandits away, but when it came to actual sword fighting, he had a feeling Indenuel wouldn’t be able to physically protect himself with a sword for a long time.

“Send this message priority line to the High Elders and the King and Queen,” Martin said, his voice dropping a bit. Derio took out a paper and pen. “Every day I am growing more certain of Indenuel’s calling as the Warrior. I am requesting the top Graduate as bodyguard for Indenuel’s protection. Come as fast as possible.”

Derio nodded as he finished writing the note. “I shall send this right away, sir.”

“Thank you,” Martin said.

***

“You’re not used to striking against a nobleman, are you,” Nathaniel said as the cart bounced on the dirt road.

Indenuel chewed the inside of his cheek before giving a nod. “It’s a lot, finding yourself in a higher class than you grew up in. Even harder that it’s practically the highest social class there is.”

Nathaniel nodded, studying Indenuel over. “It is quite the leap. I thought it was hard enough adjusting from a lower nobility to the son of a High Elder. Maybe it’ll be good for you to have this month to adjust before you’re thrust into city life.”

Indenuel’s eyes went wide. “Is it going to be hard?”

“Probably not the kind of hard you’re expecting. It will be a life of luxury, though, which is a different kind of hard.” Nathaniel gave him another look. “And… perhaps I can help you not look so terrified and jumpy all the time.”

Indenuel winced. “Sorry.”

“Which means you don’t need to apologize for everything,” Nathaniel said. Instead of apologizing again, Indenuel remained silent, looking at his hands. “Father said the month-long storm made you paranoid and jumpy, but-” Nathaniel studied Indenuel closer. “It wasn’t just the storm, was it.” Indenuel didn’t answer again, still staring at his hands, aware Nathaniel’s gaze wasn’t leaving his face. Nathaniel gave another nod before picking up the book Indenuel had set on the carriage seat. “You can find a lot of similarities between being an upperclassman and sword fighting. The important thing about these stances is simply holding them. You must be confident, you must be ready, and you will be. It will take practice, just as it will to be an upperclassman. To be a member of an upper class is to be confident and respected, but not tyrannical. We will keep going over the different stances at lunch and keep building your muscle. Once you’ve mastered the ability to confidently make stances and not cower at the sword, you will have practically done what you need to stand confidently before the King’s Court and the High Elders to proclaim yourself as Warrior.”

Indenuel nodded in agreement, trying not to wince at what was said. “I’ll do my best.”

Nathaniel smiled. “That’s all that’s required. God will help with the rest. Now, let’s go for a run.”

It wasn’t what Indenuel expected. He tried to keep up with the moving carriages as they made their way down the bumpy dirt road. Nathaniel made laps around the moving carriages to stay within the safety of the High Elder’s carriage, while Indenuel simply tried to keep up. Nathaniel had him stop well before his body would pass out, but he still couldn’t help but notice Nathaniel hardly broke a sweat doing his extra workout while Indenuel was gasping for air. They did some stretches to cool down while also keeping up with the carriages. Indenuel wasn’t sure he liked this, but he couldn’t deny he looked far too skinny to be any sort of threat. He still remembered the sting of the bandit’s laughter.

It certainly made the time go by faster. Indenuel had hardly gotten back in the carriage when word was passed down that the next town was approaching.

“Perfect. This will have worked up an appetite for you,” Nathaniel said, clapping Indenuel on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” Indenuel said, because he didn’t know what else to say. The shadows were getting long as the sun began to dip below the line of trees. The carriage stopped, and Indenuel glanced out the window. Martin smiled brightly.

“May I join you?” Martin asked.

“Of… course,” Indenuel said.

Martin got inside and the carriage kept going. Indenuel became aware that he was sweaty and hot.

“I have sent word ahead to the High Elder’s to request a bodyguard,” Martin said.

“A bodyguard?” Indenuel asked.

“Yes. For added safety measures. We can’t be too careful,” Martin said.

“My good friend Tolomon, most likely. His physical skills are unmatched on every level. He’s a legend among the Graduates. But even still, no one would dare attack a High Elder’s carriage,” Nathaniel said.

“True, true. We already planned to have Indenuel given a bodyguard when he reached the city. We might as well start now,” Martin said. “And Adosina and Derio have sensed much chatter in the trees of the next town. Word is spreading fast. Soon the entire main road will know that Indenuel is on his way to Santollia City, and we must take every precaution.”

Indenuel paused, then quietly reached out the window of the carriage, brushing his fingers against the leaves, connecting with the trees, hearing the excitement bubbling through them. Anticipation, relief, it was almost too loud. Indenuel broke off his connection. The next town they were approaching knew who he was.

Indenuel looked at Martin, a growing dread filling his chest. “Martin. Can you help me?”

“With what, dear boy?”

“These people will be expecting the Warrior. Even though I’m not a High Elder, they’ll probably expect me to minister like you do. What should I expect?” Indenuel asked.

Martin gave him a warm smile. “They will, yes. These towns this far north on the main road will not have many powerful healers, so there are always people asking to be healed. With you, they might ask for a few more favors with either tree talking or weather or talking with the dead. Do not be afraid of them, Indenuel. They’re not there to hurt you. I’ll stay by your side the entire time.”

“Thank you,” Indenuel said, the words quiet and almost disappearing toward the end.