more, especially later that night, alone in my bed.
XI
A FTER WE WERE well into the lectures from Talryn, Magister Cassius, and Magistra Trehonnaâthe lady with the glare that even quieted meâone morning Talryn marched us down another long but well-lit tunnel and out into a wide room, sunken partly into the ground.
Underground or not, the overhead and upper side windows admitted more than enough light. Unlike the teaching rooms, the stone walls were plastered over with an almond-shaded white finish. The flooring was the strange part, neither wood nor stone, but a greenish and springy substance that gave slightly underfoot.
The same substance was used for flooring in the exercise rooms where Dilton tried to force us all into a better physical condition. I had tried, but hadnât been able to break even the slightest fragment from it, even though I could squeeze it enough to press a thumbâs width of it up between my fingers, and the woodworking with Uncle Sardit had left them strong. The muscles in my legs were what suffered under Dilton, especially from the running and stretching.
The best part of the conditioning was watching Tamra and Krystal. I didnât really dare to do more than watch with either one. Sometimes, as with the time on the lawn, Krystal would sit next to me or ask for a hug, but she clearly wanted it as a brotherly gesture, or even as a fatherly one. And that was the way it stayed, no matter what my body said.
Why? Because deep inside the lady, I could feel, not knowing how, something that I wasnât about to tamper with. What? Like a lot of things, I couldnât say what, only recognize its danger. Like Tamra, like Candar. When I even saw maps of Candar, I wanted to shiver.
My musings stopped when I saw Tamra was smiling. She still wore the dark gray, this time with a blue scarf. No one had said a word about her clothing. Then, Talryn hadnât said a word about my dark-brown garments either.
Against the wall opposite the door we had entered were racks of objects, some clearly swords or knives. Half a dozen of each were racked next to each other, and there were five large racks.
âCandidatesâ¦â Talryn cleared his throat. He always cleared his throat after he got our attention. âThis is Gilberto.â
Gilberto wasnât tall. Iâm taller than average, almost four cubits, but not that much taller than average. Gilberto stood nearly a head below meâmore like Tamraâs size. Wearing black trousers and black leathers over a black shirt and black boots, with his black hair and pale white skin, he looked like an executioner.
âThis is Gilberto,â repeated Talryn. âThe world outside Recluce boasts an array of weapons. Gilberto will attempt to give you some familiarity with the most common and some minimal ability with one or two, assuming you are willing to learn.â
Gilberto smiled crookedly, as if offering an apology. The expression turned him from a colorless executioner into a sadfaced clown.
Tamra studied him from one side. I just smiled back at the man. He looked funny. Boring or strange as some of the Brotherhood could be, I never doubted their abilities. Krystal pursed her too-red lips, trying not to giggle. Wrynn scowled. Myrten licked his lips. Dorthae looked at Talryn, then at Gilberto, without saying a word.
Gilberto acknowledged us, bending forward at the waist. The gesture was formal. âThere are weapons on the racks. Please look them over. Pick them up. Handle themâtouch at least one of each kind. Whichever one of them feels most comfortable to you, please take that one and sit down on one of the pillows at the end of the room.â
The weapons-masterâs eyes turned cold. âDo not pick a weapon with your head. Do not pick whatever seems the easiest, or the most destructive. The weapons you use must reflect you.â He paused. âLater, I will teach you about other weapons.â He bowed
XI
A FTER WE WERE well into the lectures from Talryn, Magister Cassius, and Magistra Trehonnaâthe lady with the glare that even quieted meâone morning Talryn marched us down another long but well-lit tunnel and out into a wide room, sunken partly into the ground.
Underground or not, the overhead and upper side windows admitted more than enough light. Unlike the teaching rooms, the stone walls were plastered over with an almond-shaded white finish. The flooring was the strange part, neither wood nor stone, but a greenish and springy substance that gave slightly underfoot.
The same substance was used for flooring in the exercise rooms where Dilton tried to force us all into a better physical condition. I had tried, but hadnât been able to break even the slightest fragment from it, even though I could squeeze it enough to press a thumbâs width of it up between my fingers, and the woodworking with Uncle Sardit had left them strong. The muscles in my legs were what suffered under Dilton, especially from the running and stretching.
The best part of the conditioning was watching Tamra and Krystal. I didnât really dare to do more than watch with either one. Sometimes, as with the time on the lawn, Krystal would sit next to me or ask for a hug, but she clearly wanted it as a brotherly gesture, or even as a fatherly one. And that was the way it stayed, no matter what my body said.
Why? Because deep inside the lady, I could feel, not knowing how, something that I wasnât about to tamper with. What? Like a lot of things, I couldnât say what, only recognize its danger. Like Tamra, like Candar. When I even saw maps of Candar, I wanted to shiver.
My musings stopped when I saw Tamra was smiling. She still wore the dark gray, this time with a blue scarf. No one had said a word about her clothing. Then, Talryn hadnât said a word about my dark-brown garments either.
Against the wall opposite the door we had entered were racks of objects, some clearly swords or knives. Half a dozen of each were racked next to each other, and there were five large racks.
âCandidatesâ¦â Talryn cleared his throat. He always cleared his throat after he got our attention. âThis is Gilberto.â
Gilberto wasnât tall. Iâm taller than average, almost four cubits, but not that much taller than average. Gilberto stood nearly a head below meâmore like Tamraâs size. Wearing black trousers and black leathers over a black shirt and black boots, with his black hair and pale white skin, he looked like an executioner.
âThis is Gilberto,â repeated Talryn. âThe world outside Recluce boasts an array of weapons. Gilberto will attempt to give you some familiarity with the most common and some minimal ability with one or two, assuming you are willing to learn.â
Gilberto smiled crookedly, as if offering an apology. The expression turned him from a colorless executioner into a sadfaced clown.
Tamra studied him from one side. I just smiled back at the man. He looked funny. Boring or strange as some of the Brotherhood could be, I never doubted their abilities. Krystal pursed her too-red lips, trying not to giggle. Wrynn scowled. Myrten licked his lips. Dorthae looked at Talryn, then at Gilberto, without saying a word.
Gilberto acknowledged us, bending forward at the waist. The gesture was formal. âThere are weapons on the racks. Please look them over. Pick them up. Handle themâtouch at least one of each kind. Whichever one of them feels most comfortable to you, please take that one and sit down on one of the pillows at the end of the room.â
The weapons-masterâs eyes turned cold. âDo not pick a weapon with your head. Do not pick whatever seems the easiest, or the most destructive. The weapons you use must reflect you.â He paused. âLater, I will teach you about other weapons.â He bowed
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