Roderic turned around and met his gaze. An unexpected force of compulsion took hold of his reason and he climbed up the steps, uninvited, to speak with the legendary council member. He stood still, waiting for Fardius to speak first. Neither man said a word. Roderic caught a motive in the man’s flinty eye. He wasn’t sure if it was determination or anger.
Finally, the spy began walking down the steps.
“Fardius?”
“We need to talk.”
With a beckoning wave of his hand, Fardius kept going toward the gate of the castle without the slightest hesitation in his gait. Roderic hurried after him.
He led Roderic through a field of tall grass, a quarter mile away from the castle, to a cabin at the edge of the woods. As they drew closer a discernable path guided them straight to the door.
Fardius went inside and threw his cloak on a square table. Roderic’s eyes drifted around the dark room. He saw a pallet through the entry to the next room, situated near an ashy fireplace. Weapons hung on the walls: a spear, bow and quiver, sabers hung from straps. He stepped closer to the wall. One scabbard had an emblem of three interlocking circles seared into the leather.
“Look familiar?” Fardius asked.
Roderic backed away from the weapon. “I’ve seen it before. What happened in the council chamber after I left?”
Fardius straddled a chair. “Tell me everything you know about Calendenia. Everything.”
“It’s more than two day’s ride from here to the east. It has the largest seaport on the southern shores of Reynolda, Commercio. The capitol is Dresden.”
“History, not geography,” Fardius interrupted.
“Right. Hundreds of years ago a Calendenian by the name of Alejandro Venti united Reynolda when he fought a war against Artakos.”
“Start forty years ago,” Fardius instructed.
Roderic’s mouth shifted. What was he getting at? “Enrico di Venice was the ruler, and the kingdom bore that symbol upon its flag and heraldry.” Roderic tapped the circles on the scabbard. “Enrico was overthrown by his son, Ravonna di Venice, ostensibly to prevent war.”
“Ostensibly?”
“My father speculated there were other reasons. Greed among them.”
“Hmmm…Is that all you know?”
“Unless you would like to know about the commerce, religion, major festivals—”
Fardius held up his hand. “No. That will do. Listen, the council agreed to let me train you. We’re leaving soon, and I’ll train you as we go.”
“The day after tomorrow. To Calendenia?” Roderic guessed.
Fardius jutted his chin up. “How did you know?”
“Anne is going to Laupette the day after tomorrow, and I’m not going with her.”
Fardius stood up from his chair. “Good deduction. You can stay at my house, if you would like. It will save time.”
“What about my duties with the royal guard?”
“Knight Oiseau is recovering quickly. Anne will only need you one more day before she goes to Laupette. I’ve already spoken to your Captain. He’s agreed to the reassignment. I’m your commander now.”
“Not to be rude, but…eh…what is your rank?”
Fardius smirked. “This.” He patted his sword. “Let’s go train.”
*****
Roderic and André wedged in the back of a horse-drawn cart, loaded with weapons from the armory. Fardius drove it to the field in between his hut and the castle, stopping in the middle of a dormant field. He jumped from the driver’s wooden seat to face the two young men.
“With the amount of drilling you have done in the guard, Roderic, you should be the best fighter in the castle.” Fardius tossed his sword from one hand to the other, feeling its weight.
“No, sir. I am not an expert swordsman,” Roderic said.
Fardius smirked. “Experts rarely call themselves that. Your abilities establish who you are, not your titles. I will teach you how to use those trained muscles to execute extraordinary maneuvers.”
“Do you want me to fight André?” Roderic asked, picking up a sword.
“No, you’re fighting me.” Fardius jabbed forward, swinging ferociously.
Roderic stumbled backward, unable to maintain his balance from the heavy impact of Fardius’s blade against his.
“Fight me,” Fardius ordered. “Forget who I am.”
“I can’t,” Roderic said, jumping away from another swing.
“Block, block, put your weight behind it. Swing with your body, not your elbow.”
Roderic detected an aggressive swing from Fardius and countered with a solid block, locking swords for a moment.
“Good! Shove off. Do it again.”
Fardius dodged, feinted and then struck, slapping the sword from Roderic’s hand. It slid through the weeds and clanged against a stone.
“I can’t do this,” Roderic groaned, turning away.
“You are embarrassed, why?”
“Because, you could walk away and change your mind about me.”
“Who are you?” Fardius demanded.
Roderic faced him, puzzled by the question. “The son of Lucas Delorro.”
“Is that the only thing that defines you?”
“No.”
“Pick up your sword and tell me what you want.”
Roderic picked it up, “Nothing.”
“Unacceptable! You are hiding the truth. There is a desire that controls you Roderic; a passion that burns inside you. What is it?”
“Uh,” he looked away, trying to think of what he was supposed to say. When he looked back, his vision was filled by a long-bladed sword bearing down on him. Reflexively, he threw a block and launched a counterattack pushing Fardius back.
“Ah, see. That was brilliant. Now, answer me. Who are you and what do you want?”
“I am Roderic Delorro. I want to learn the truth.”
“Roderic, give me all your effort, and you will find answers. Now let’s try something else,” Fardius threw a staff to André and then to Roderic. “Plant your feet, and try to throw each other off balance,” he instructed. They pushed, slipped off and stumbled.
“Again!”
Roderic locked staves with the lieutenant. Then Roderic saw an opportunity. He spun and cut André’s feet out from under him landing him on the ground.
André groaned.
“That’s not what I said,” Fardius said. “Lock them again. This is about balance, about finding where the leverage points are.”
Roderic pulled André up, and they tried the exercise again. An hour later they graduated to swinging the staves. Roderic had a distinct advantage. He was much more accustomed to swinging heavy weapons with precise control. After André hit the dirt the fourth time, he flatly refused to rise again.
“How was that?” Roderic asked Fardius.
“Fine, the angle was too broad. Pull it in tighter.”
“I lose power that way.”
“Maybe, but you don’t leave yourself unguarded. Now, you two race.”
Roderic looked up at the sun as beads of perspiration ran down his face. He took a deep breath. First Anne, now Fardius. What was with the racing? “Certainly,” he agreed, noticing André was warming up for the run a few paces away. Roderic strolled over while Fardius mounted a horse and rode across the meadow.
“How far do we run?” Roderic asked, watching André stretch. There was no way he would win this.
“Across the valley. Two miles; we are starting with short runs. By the time we are done with you, you will be running ten miles as fast as me, maybe faster, but that is doubtful!” he said, with a grin. Roderic could barely see Fardius as he waved a brightly colored flag.
“Go!” André shouted. They took off running. André sprinted ahead of Roderic, who picked up his pace, running as fast as he could. His side burned and he remembered to breathe deeply. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Big deep breaths. Some help. André had a comfortable lead and it was growing. He kept running. So, he wasn’t fast. He’d train. He reached Fardius quite a few yards behind André.
“Good effort,” remarked Fardius, handing Roderic a dipper full of water. Roderic got his breath and took a drink.
“Thank you,” he said, leaning on his knees and panting heavily.
“Recover your breath, and then deliver a message to Sebastien Commissionaire for me. Adrienne will need a royal messenger with her on the journey. I’m asking for Remi.”
Roderic walked around to cool down, wondering what the message contained. Fardius walked with him quietly for a while.
“Roderic, I have been with you long enough to understand your character and to appreciate your merit. I must know where you stand with God,” Fardius said directly.
“God?” Roderic said, stopping.
“Yes, I find it invaluable to know if my acquaintances and my students are walking a correct path, especially when there’s a good chance they’re going to die in battle.”
Roderic gave no immediate reply as his eyes wandered over the trees. This was touching a nerve. “Listen, I am willing to learn whatever you want to teach me. As for God, it’s a matter I must search out myself. I’ve had many teachers. I’ve learned the theology and the fundamental beliefs. But I’ve come to the point, where I want to see what God will do in my life. Does he care about me? Or just those who walk around quoting the vulgate.”
“Roderic, run on and deliver that message.”
He looked into Fardius’s eyes, trying to read if the man was disappointed. He gave up and jogged toward the courtyard. Had he given the wrong response? That question had come from nowhere. He was training to fight, not join a monastery. Something more. Yes. Too often the search for the reasons behind life was frustrating, empty, and useless. The whole conversation had been cryptic. Yet, he had a strong repugnance for just spitting out any answer that would please. Fardius wouldn’t want that anyway. The truth. What he really thought. Now what?
Roderic delivered the message. As he stepped out to the courtyard he saw Helaine and Tremenas walking together with Anne and Madame Veiller right behind them.
Anne looked at him. “Roderic!” She had stepped forward to greet him, when guards and a prisoner charged up in front of her on brawny horses.
Out of nowhere, André le Cavalier pushed Anne back against the carriage to keep her from being trampled. Leaping to the ground, the guards pulled the securely bound prisoner off his horse.
“Make way!” shouted the guards roughly, as they took the man into the prison on the far side of the courtyard. Roderic saw Fardius duck in after them. In all the confusion André slipped away unnoticed by Anne.
“What is going on?” asked Anne, as she walked toward Roderic. Her eyes were fixed on the gloomy prison that was now a den of activity.
“Looks like they captured a spy,” said Roderic, as he watched the young squire disappear into a bakery shop. “Everything ready for your trip?”
“Yes all that is left is a final trip back to the shops, and I’d like to get a stock of apples at the orchard if you don’t mind accompanying us there…”
“A trip to the orchard? It would be my honor as this is my last day as your guard, my lady.”
“Anne.”
He smiled. “Anne.”
“Uh! Tremenas is coming with us to Laupette. This will be the most irksome endeavor with Monsieur Onerous disapproving of everything I say.”
Roderic chuckled. “Maybe Knight Oiseau will ride in the carriage, forcing Tremenas to ride his horse. He wouldn’t dare challenge an elder knight.”
“Oh, here comes the peacock himself. I’ve got to pack,” Anne darted away.
“Orchard?” he called after her.
“Later.”
Tremenas ambled up to Roderic with Helaine draped on his arm. “Humph, you’re Adrienne’s interim guard? Well, I’m sure you do fine around the castle. Don’t worry. One day they may trust you enough to send you on a road journey with her.”
Roderic reached over and pulled Tremenas’s sword from his scabbard.
Helaine gasped and backed off.
Roderic handed it, hilt first to Tremenas. “Show me.”
“What?”
“Your father is a storied knight of the realm. Valorous. Trustworthy. A council member. Surely he taught you enough swordplay to defeat a common guard.”
“Tremenas stop this,” Helaine demanded.
His watery blue eyes shifted from Helaine’s imploring face to Roderic’s daring glare. He sheathed the weapon and titled his nose up. “If I had the time, urchin, I would fight you. I have pressing duties.” He walked swiftly the other way. Helaine moaned softly and hurried after him.
“I’ll be available all evening, at your leisure, sir,” Roderic called after him, grinning. His smile faded. Had he gone too far? Tremenas deserved every bit of it.
But it was better to make friends than enemies. Fardius’s words came back to his mind. Being a Christian is more than doing a few ceremonial actions. Roderic gritted his teeth; he was definitely taking this too seriously.
He caught a glimpse of Fardius stalking across the cobblestones. Time to find out who they’d caught. Roderic jogged over to him.
“Who is the prisoner?”
“No one.” Fardius turned away and walked in the direction of his house.
A sinking feeling came over Roderic.
Roderic ran to catch up with him. “Fardius, who is he, really?”
Fardius glanced back. “Walk with me.”
After they entered the field of grass, Fardius stood still against the gusty wind. “A spy from Calendenia.”
“And?”
“He was in the task force assigned to capture your parents. They’re being held in Dresden.”
