Conalin gazed up at the black warrior, noting his weakness. ‘I’ll get you some water,’ he said. The boy ran off to the antechamber and returned with a full cup of cool, clear water. Nogusta drank gratefully. Then he handed Conalin the scabbarded short sword. The boy flipped the belt around his waist, but it was too big. Using his dagger Nogusta made a new hole and shortened the sword belt. Conalin buckled it into place.
‘Draw it,’ said Nogusta. The boy did so.
‘It is heavier than I thought,’ said Conalin.
‘Remember it is a stabbing blade, not a cleaver. When
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your enemy is close thrust towards the heart. Let me see you practise.’ Conalin made several clumsy lunges. ‘That’s good,’ said Nogusta. ‘We’ll make a fine swordsman of you, given time. But thrust off your lead foot. That will put your body weight behind the movement.’
Conalin grinned, and tried again. This time the thrust was smooth and swift. He looked at Nogusta. ‘Your talisman is glowing,’ he said.
‘I know.’
Pharis and Sufia ran in to the doorway of the temple. ‘They’re here! So many!’ shouted Pharis. They ran back outside.
Conalin went to join them, but Nogusta called him back. ‘I want you to wait with me,’ he said, softly.
‘I just wanted to see them.’
‘It is important that you stay.’ Nogusta turned away from the boy and climbed to the octagonal dais, then sat back upon the stone altar placed there. ‘This is one of the oldest buildings anywhere in the world. Most of the city was built after it. Like the palace back in Usa it was said to have been erected in a single night by a giant. I don’t believe it, of course, but it is a pretty tale when heard in full.’ He took a deep breath. ‘This wound is bothersome,’ he said.
‘Why do you not want to see the battle?’ asked Conalin, stepping up to the dais. ‘Antikas, Kebra and Ulmenetha are all there. Why should we not go?’
‘I have seen battles, Conalin. I had hoped never to see another. Kebra tells me you want to work with horses. Is that right?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘It is my plan to return to the northern mountains of Drenan and find the descendants of the herds my father raised. I will rebuild our house. It was set in a beautiful
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location. My wife loved it there, especially in spring, when the fruit trees were in blossom.’
‘Did she die?’
‘Yes, she died. All my family died. I am the last of my line.’ He could see that the boy was anxious to leave, and decided to distract him. ‘Would you like to see some magick?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
Carefully Nogusta lifted the talisman from around his neck and looped it over the boy’s head. It settled neatly into place around his neck. ‘Where is the magick?’ said the boy.
Nogusta was surprised, but did not show it. Pharis and the child had returned looking for Conalin. He called them over. ‘Try to place it around Sufia’s neck,’ he said. Conalin lifted the talisman clear, but when he tried to put it on the child he found that the golden chain was too short by several inches.
‘I don’t understand,’ he said.
‘Put it back on me,’ said Nogusta. The boy stepped forward, and found, to his amazement, that it was still too short. ‘It is yours now,’ said the warrior. ‘It has chosen you.’ Softly he spoke the words his father had used. ‘A man greater than kings wore this charm and while you wear it make sure that your deeds are always noble.’
‘How do I do that?’ asked Conalin.
‘A good question. Follow your heart. Listen to what it tells you. Do not steal or lie, do not speak or act with malice or hatred.’
‘I will try,’ promised the boy.
‘And you will succeed, for you are chosen. This talisman has been in my family for many generations. Always it chooses its owner. One day, when your sons are near
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grown you will play the magick game, and you will see it choose again.’