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Chapter 5

 

The weather was damp, and for the hundredth time, Kaleiva wondered if it was so eternally. She pulled her already-slick oilskin cloak tighter about her thin frame, listening to the sound of pattering rain on her hood as she watched the water pour off her body in rivulets onto the ground.

It was only a distraction from her nerves.

What if she doesn’t listen? What if she doesn’t train me because I’m too young? What if she doesn’t understand my reasons, or worse — doesn’t like them?

Grandmother Nurys saw the look of nervous apprehension on her granddaughter’s face, and rested her hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Kaleiva. And if Captain Euran won’t train you, I’m sure that there are others who would — gladly.”

Kaleiva forced a smile, and looked up at her grandmother. “Thanks.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself as she stepped forward, knocking on the door.

The actual training center of M’irthen was on the very coast, just across the channel from the island of Shul, but here in K’arthen, the capital city of Mardem, was the one place where people could register for access to the training facility.

The knock sounded strangely echoey, and Kaleiva had to force herself not to flinch when the door opened.

A woman stood there, one hand resting on the doorframe. Her hair, so dark that it was impossible to tell if it was brown or black, hung down just past her shoulders in a small collection of braids, and she wore a clean white dress made of linen, embroidered with lilac flowers at the ends of the sleeves. Her eyes, like those of most Marvs, were dark.

She appraised the sight of the little girl and the old woman in silence, her face all but emotionless. When she at last spoke, it was in a dull, flat tone. “What do you want?”

Kaleiva steeled herself. “I’m here to see Captain Neila Euran,” she said, half-fidgeting with the hem of her oilskin.

“And what do you want with the Captain?” the woman responded, her tone switching from emotionlessness to suspicion.

Kaleiva met her gaze evenly, forcing her nerves into a corner of her mind. “I’m here,” she repeated, “to see Captain Neila Euran. I need to speak with her. About training.”

The woman raised one eyebrow, and appraised the girl. “You’re too young,” she said at last. “You cannot enter.” She glanced at Grandmother Nurys. “And she’s too old.”

“Nera!” shouted a sharp voice from further inside the building. “Nera, step aside. Let them in.”

“Captain Euran!” Nera stepped aside hurriedly, muttering a quick apology to Kaleiva and Grandmother Nurys.

Kaleiva hurried inside, pausing to remove her oilskin and shake the rainwater off of it before continuing on within. Her grandmother followed her quickly, doing the same.

A tall, lean woman stepped out of an adjacent room, her hair pulled back into a low-hanging ponytail that flowed down between her shoulders. Her skin was rather paler than that of most Marvs, only slightly lighter than Kaleiva’s. She wore a tunic with a kind of skirt at the end that reached partway to her knees, and leggings beneath that. Her leather boots had silver buckles, and the sides were tall enough to cover most of her shins. A pair of laced wristguards made of a rich-toned leather covered her forearms.

Captain Euran.

The Captain motioned to Kaleiva and Grandmother Nurys to follow her, then stepped back into the room where she had been. It was large, made of dark polished wood with a stone hearth at one end, inside of which a fire crackled, and around which were positioned several polished wooden articles of cushioned furniture.

It was over to that end of the room that they went, and the Captain sat at one of the chairs, then motioned to her guests to be seated as well.

She leaned back in her chair, locking eyes with Grandmother Nurys. “Might I ask why you are here?”

Grandmother Nurys only nodded toward her granddaughter. Captain Euran raised an eyebrow, and looked at the girl.

“I am here,” Kaleiva answered after a moment, “because I want to be trained as a shieldmaiden, Captain.”

Captain Euran raised an eyebrow, waiting a moment to see if the girl was joking. When she realized that she wasn’t, she let out a quiet sigh and locked eyes with the girl. “You do realize that you’re underage, right?”

“I do,” Kaleiva replied evenly, standing. “But I still want to fight with the Duallies in Mardem’s shieldmaiden division, preferably under your command.”

“And why, might I ask?” responded Captain Euran, standing as well. “Why is this so urgent that it cannot wait another few years?”

Kaleiva had anticipated that question. “Three reasons. Firstly — it is, Captain, a well-known fact that the Triforces and the Duallies are poised on the brink of all-out war. It’s only a matter of time until the fighting breaks out for real. Mardem’s army needs all the warriors it can get; therefore, beginning training as soon as possible would result in a warrior sooner than otherwise. Secondly — if I wait until I am considered old enough to begin training, I risk all of the captains being out in the field by then, with none being available to train me.”

“That is. . . interesting logic,” Captain Euran admitted, then paused. “What is the third reason?”

Kaleiva took a deep breath as the fire faded from her eyes. Why, why did I state three reasons? But, nevertheless, she answered truthfully. “The Duallies are raiding the defenceless villages of the Triforce kingdoms. People are dying, Captain. Dying, and being carried away by the enemy.” She closed her eyes, and felt Grandmother take her hand. After she’d managed to steady herself, to force approaching memories from her mind, she opened her eyes and continued. “My village was destroyed mere days ago, Captain. I watched my twin brother taken, perhaps killed. I barely managed to get my half-dead little sister to my grandmother’s. I will not — cannot — allow the same thing to happen to anyone else. But the only way I can make a difference, the only way that I can in any way protect defenceless peasant children, is with training.”

Captain Euran was silent, searching the girl’s eyes. All she found there was sincerity, and truthfulness. This was the child’s real reason. The heart of her motivation.

“What is your name, child?” Captain Euran asked quietly.

“Kaleiva Maverlock,” Kaleiva answered, even more softly. All of her cards were out on the table. All she could do now was wait, and hope. She had no more tricks up her sleeve.

What Captain Euran said next made her hardly believe her good fortune, if indeed fortune was what it was.

“Very well, Kaleiva. I shall train you.”