Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (24 page)

Seemed
like a good idea.  But ranged weapons were her specialty.  She’d be as likely
to hit me at a greater distance as she had from only a few paces.  On the other
hand, if I rushed her, she’d have at most one shot before I reached her.  Even
if she scored another hit and managed to knock me down, she’d be unable to
reload again before I’d be on her.  That’s what I chose to do.  Weaving back
and forth as I ran, I closed the distance between us.  Charr struggled to line
up a shot with my erratic movements, and when she finally let one fly it glanced
harmlessly off my shoulder.  She was no fool; she knew she couldn’t reload in
time.  Tossing the crossbow aside, she pulled a smaller, pistol-like weapon
from her hip, aimed for my legs, and fired.  The gun launched a weighted cord
not unlike what Corvus had thrown by hand at our first encounter.  It twisted
itself around my ankles, tripping me so that I fell flat on my face just inches
from her feet.  She lifted a steeply-heeled boot and brought it down between my
shoulder blades, pinning me.  Without removing the foot, she asked, “What have
you learned?”

“Not
to expect a fair fight on the first day of training,” I growled.

“Not
to believe there is such a thing as a ‘fair fight’,” she corrected me.  “More
importantly, not to take unmeasured risks when you do not know the strengths or
equipment of your opponent.”  She permitted me to rise at last, then continued,
“I will admit, I completely expected you to run away.  In that you surprised
me.  But as you saw, even with that advantage I was able to counter you
effectively.”

“Was
there a correct option I could have chosen?” I asked.

“Yours
was not necessarily incorrect,” she said.  “Had you opted to dive for me when
you got close, I probably would not have been able to stop you.  Combat is a
constant series of decisions.  Only with great experience can you begin to make
most of the right decisions, most of the time.  On the other hand, as Knox has
already learned, you are not a typical soldier.  You have somehow come to
possess certain innate skills that were never learned.  Let’s hope that this
kind of intuitive thinking lies just beneath the surface as well.  I am sorry
for the rude awakening, but I’ve found that failure is a far better tutor than
success.  Now, let’s even the score.  By way of apology, I’ll let you take the
first swing.”  She dropped the pistol and assumed a stance more suited to
fisticuffs. 

Fully
expecting another trap, I hesitated.  “Come on!” she said.  “Hit me!”  My
reservations had nothing to do with Charr’s gender; I knew she was a
battle-hardened warrior and I had no illusions about her ability to reintroduce
me to the asphalt.  Shelving my misgivings, I aimed a punch at her midriff,
where her armor appeared to be layered slightly thinner to allow for increased
mobility.  She contacted my moving wrist with a fast downward grab, causing my
fist to end up next to her waist.  Then, holding it there firmly, she brought
her opposite leg up in an anatomically dubious motion, contacting the side of
my head.  In spite of the enchanted helmet, I was dazed by the impact and
dropped to my knees.  She released her hold and stepped back to let me
recover.  “Now,” she said, “let’s get you into something more comfortable.” 
She gave the rusty gate a good kick, and it swung open with a terrible creak to
reveal…the strangest and most magnificent suit of armor I had ever seen.

It
was black and not glossy, but somehow its surface absorbed the tones of ivy and
iron, or whatever else happened to be nearby.  Its texture was like leather,
and it was as light as aluminum alloy, yet hard as steel.  The design mocked
symmetry, displaying an organic flow, with a short, wing-like appendage
spreading over one shoulder, a curving enlargement of the opposite thigh.  The
whole thing had the appearance of having been formed of magma that curled and
splashed as it cooled.  The helmet was…well, it was awesome, stylized and
highly-mobile – something straight off the pages of Japanese manga.  I turned
to Charr in disbelief and at a loss for words.  She showed me an elusive smile
and simply said, “You’re welcome.”

22

It
fit like a dream.  I must have been thirty percent larger in the armor, yet I
actually felt somehow lighter, faster.  Charr borrowed my sword to demonstrate
its strength and shock-absorbing properties with a few well-placed blows that
left not a mark on the surface of the suit.  It was a further testament to her
mastery of her craft that I could move freely in almost every plane of motion
while wearing the armor.  Charr assured me that it had other, “bonus” features
as well, that she said would only become apparent with use.  Small solar strips
at the shoulders and the back of the helm led me to think that this might have
something to do with hidden machinery.  I hoped this wouldn’t be the sort that
invited large, segmented creatures to land on my back. 

Charr
taught me the use of bows, crossbows, throwing spears, and other, more
specialized projectile weapons, like the ankle-binding pistol I had experienced
earlier.  One of the more interesting items was a rifle that launched a
razor-sharp disc that would allegedly return to the gun’s launching rail if it
missed its mark.  Not wanting to take part in the world’s bloodiest game of
Frisbee, I respectfully asked her not to demonstrate this one.  She had a couple
of rare functioning powder-based guns as well, but these she was loath to wield
because of their propensity to jam.  In between target practice sessions, she
honed my skills in hand-to-hand combat.  As with Knox, we soon discovered that
I could hold my own with empty hands as well, drawing on a mysterious well of
techniques and skills I had never performed before.  Though I was strong with
my fists and feet, I seemed to have had a more pronounced edge with the
blades.  Charr’s style was a mixture of throws and holds that were reminiscent
of my wrestling days, blended with airy kicks and strikes that had more of an
eastern flair.

She
didn’t shoot at me anymore, a concession that was met with sincere
appreciation.  Instead, she showed me the differences in penetration of various
projectiles through a variety of common materials.  This was important not only
so I would select the best weapon for the armor of my opponent, but also so I
would know what was and was not safe to take cover behind when the enemy was
doing the shooting.  She also didn’t make me perform a city-wide search for her
after the first day, as that would have wasted too much valuable instruction
time.  From time to time she would pursue me, or I her, through the streets and
alleys of the city, instructing me to use terrain and obstacles to my
advantage.  Whenever the predator would manage to catch up to its prey, a brawl
would ensue.  It was grueling, but refreshingly different from Knox’s
straightforward training.

As
before, Maya and I would go riding in the evenings, or sometimes we would just
walk to a quiet spot near the dam and talk, and enjoy each other.  She informed
me that Charr was allowing her to remain at her workshop during the day while
we were training, but that her work there was still incredibly confidential for
the time being.  She would of course have to kill me if she told me, or so it
was explained to me.  Maya was incredibly impressed with the armor Charr had
given me.  Of course, she had already seen it while it was being fashioned, but
refused to enlighten me on its hidden capabilities, if in fact she knew what
they were.  She did tell me that I looked really good in it.  “But,” she
cautioned, “Just wait till you see the set she’s making for me!”

“So
that’s the top secret project?” I asked.

“You
wish!” she said.  Even though Maya was working somewhere right there in the
same city where we trained, I was never allowed to learn the location of the
workshop.  Instead, Maya would leave some time before I would finish lessons
for the day and would be waiting at the dam when I got there.

The
days passed, and I began to dread the next phase of my training, where I would
be working with Corvus.  I didn’t imagine it would be a pleasant experience, as
even his more amiable peers had put me through a bout of hazing on their
respective first days.  Corvus, I could safely say, had hated me since the
moment he laid eyes on me.  This struck me as a bit of a mystery, since he
ostensibly belonged to a sect which hailed me as nothing less than a promised
redeemer.  Nevertheless, my time with both Knox and Charr had strengthened
those relationships, and through my time with Corvus I hoped for, if not
fondness, at least a stay of hostility.

On
the last day of my training with Charr, she took me back to the ivy gate where
I had first found – and fought – her.  She brought out the armor I had been
wearing that day.  “It’s yours if you want it back,” she said.  “But you’ll
have to relinquish that set.”

“Are
you kidding?” I said.  “Not a chance.  This is like the coolest thing I’ve ever
owned.”

“Are
you sure?” she teased.  “This one’s imbued with magic, after all.”  She flicked
it with her finger, and it made a tinny rattling sound that served to point up
the facetious nature of her comment.

“I’m
sure.  And thank you again…for everything.”

“Good. 
That one isn’t enchanted with magic, but it is blessed by Chaer-Ul.  I think
you’ll find that’s an ace in the hole when all else is equal.  Should you need
any modifications or repair, you…well, you don’t know where to find me, but
just grab me when you see me.”  I assured her I would, and turned to leave. 
She halted me with another word, soft and imploring.  “Justin…I know Corvus
isn’t kind…but he has a human side too.  You don’t know what he has endured. 
It would have destroyed most men.  Give him time.”

I
grunted.  I knew I wouldn’t start anything, but so far, Corvus had been the
aggressor.  He may not have believed that I was the one called Martyr, but as
far as I was concerned, he still had to prove himself to me. 

Charr
added in parting, “I’ll be honored to fight by your side, when the time comes.”

“Pray
it is not too soon,” was all I said. 

When
I found Maya at the dam, she was anxious to check on Doog, whom she’d seen but
little of since we each started interning with the locals.  She convinced me to
accompany her to the helicopter to see what he was up to.  When we got there,
Doog was straddling the tail of the chopper, facing backward, trying to reach
something near the tail rotor while hanging on for dear life with his other
arm.  I saw him turn his head and look over his shoulder before shaking his
head to indicate a “no-go”.  A figure stepped out from behind the vehicle,
caught the tool as Doog let it drop, and handed him another one.  It was
Corvus.  Ugh.  I was really not prepared to deal with him just yet.  I knew one
thing: if he made another go for Maya he was going to taste some of my new
skills in a bad way.

Doog
saw us first and waved with his support hand, falling to the grass with a
thud.  Corvus hurried over to help, then spotted us himself.  As if embarrassed
to have been caught doing something decent, he quickly heaved Doog to his feet
then took a big step back.  Maya skipped over to Doog, gave him a big hug and
began chatting him up.  I decided to make the best of it and approached Corvus,
who was standing awkwardly by himself, clearly unsure how to act in this kind
of situation.  “Hey, Corvus,” I said.  Seeming a bit surprised that I spoke to
him, he lifted his head, turning it just enough to watch me with his good eye. 
He said nothing, but stared at me with an expectant look, devoid of emotion, as
one looks in the direction where he has just heard a sound for some clue to its
cause.  “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” I finished.

“Training
ground,” he said at last.  Then he brushed past me, striding swiftly in the
direction of the dam. 

“Yeah,
OK,” I said to his back.  “How about time?  Anything I should bring?”

“Show
up if and when you want to train.  I’ll be there,” he said without turning.  “Bring
your weapon of choice.  It won’t make a difference.”

I
let him go without further questioning, as I didn’t expect him to give me any
useful information anyway.  I joined Maya as she was filling Doog in on all
that we had been up to over the past couple of days.  Except for the private
bits, of course.  I wanted to ask Doog if he had learned anything more about
Corvus, or how he had even come to be helping him, but Doog was not the kind to
talk behind someone’s back.  Or at all.  Maya and I helped him finish up his
work on the tail, and he fired her up just long enough to see that everything
was turning in the right direction, then we called it a day and went to see if
there was anything on the grill. 

Kuro, 
Knox and Kaire were outside when we arrived, and Kuro as usual was quick to
ensure that everyone had a juicy portion in hand before attending to other
pressing matters.  As I ate with Maya, Doog took over for Knox at the grill to
give him a chance to eat.  Kuro had a brief word with Kaire, then walked to
where we were standing and requested a few moments of my time before I retired
for the night.  Maya and I finished, and I charged her to stick with Kaire for
the time being, as I still didn’t trust Corvus, and not to wait up for me.  She
looked concerned for a second, but that quickly dissolved, as she knew I’d be
safe with Kuro.

Kuro
led me a short distance along the shore of the lake, away from the dam.  The
sun had set, but in its passing the sky still gave enough light for us to see
each other clearly, if not for much longer.  He reached behind his back and
pulled out the weapon I had chosen during our first introduction to the
armory.  It was a bladed staff, the same type of weapon Tal-Makai had famously
used and mastered.  He handed it to me.  “I need to see how you handle this,”
he said.

Suddenly
curious, I asked, “What happened to the one Tal-Makai used in his final
battle?” 

“I
think you know how that day ended,” he said.  “We didn’t exactly have the
opportunity to scour the battlefield for spoils of war.  I have to assume Magus
collected it.  Probably keeps it over his throne as a trophy, or had it melted
down to make a helmet for his inflated head.  No way of knowing.”

“You
said ‘we’,” I pointed out.  “You were there that day?”

“No,
I simply meant ‘we’ as in the resistance.  But everyone knows the tale of
Tal-Makai’s final battle.  It has been told so many times that it can never be
forgotten, down to the smallest details.  And as he was my student, I was
always eager to hear of his exploits, proud of the man he became.  The day he
fell was a sad day for all of the resistance, but a particularly devastating
blow for me.  He was like a son.”

“I
understand,” I said.  “I’m sorry.  It was not my intention to reopen old
wounds.” 

“Ah,
I’m mostly scar tissue these days,” he said.  “Don’t feel too much any more.” 
His hastily averted eyes said otherwise.  “Anyway, show me what you’ve got.” 
He carried no weapon but the wooden staff on which he leaned.  This he drew
into a defensive position as he broadened his stance.  I held aloft the weapon
he had given me, swung it in a couple of practice arcs, shrugged, and went on
the offensive.  Kuro was good with the staff; very good.  He absorbed my
attacks, one after another.  It was not effortless for him, but it became clear
that I could show him nothing that he had not seen before.  The skills I now
used were ones he had taught to one pupil after another for years, and like any
good teacher, he raised no question to which he did not have a ready answer. 

When
he tired of playing defense, he took control of the fight, pushing me back.  As
he did he spoke to me.  “You do well with that weapon.  So much was expected.” 
He issued another series of thrusts, one catching me in the ribs in what would
have been a painful blow without the armor.  I redoubled my defense, striving
in vain to turn the tide back in my favor.  “But I thought you’d be better,” he
continued.  That one did manage to bruise my ego.  “Something’s not right.”

Suddenly
Charr stalked out of the shadows.  She must have just returned from the city
and heard the commotion.  “Of course something’s not right,” she said.  “That
weapon was not designed for him.  The balance is off.”  Kuro stopped, waiting
for Charr to finish.  “Justin, see that enlargement of your armor on your right
thigh?  Strike downward on the top of it with the butt of your hand.  As I
currently held the staff in that hand, I set it down and located the place she
described, then jammed my hand down on it.  A section of the armor snapped open
on unseen hinges, and a shiny, metallic cylinder emerged.  “Grab that,” she
said.  As I did, something clicked and it released from the armor.  As I pulled
it free, I could see that the armor had concealed a surprisingly long, curving
blade along one edge of the object.  Immediately the cylinder expanded at both
ends, forming a bladed staff similar to the one I had been using, but of
exquisite workmanship.  Like my armor, it had almost no weight, and did indeed feel
perfectly balanced in my hand.  I grinned and prepared to continue the fight. 
“Wait,” she said.  “Strike your left elbow against your side.”  I slapped my
arm against my side, but nothing happened.  “No, like this,” she said, turning
her arm outward and driving her elbow straight into her ribs.  When I imitated
the action, the part that resembled a wing rotated outward from my shoulder and
spiraled down my arm.  As it did, another piece emerged from the forearm,
fanning out to meet the wing and locking into it to form a stylized shield.