Harsh Lessons

Adryan has always been wary of his father and his harsh tendencies. But, he never thought the man capable of blatant cruelty . . . .

Shadows painted the training arena in shades of black and grey. Practice dummies stood like damp sentinels around edges of the arena. The obstacles - the climbing wall, the trenches, the mudcrawl and the rope climbing nets - dripped with dew. Adryan shivered and rubbed his arms. It was so early - the other guards weren’t even here yet. But his father told him to come and so here he was. No one said ‘no’ to his father. Except his mother. But, she was the Tian and could say ‘no’ to whoever she wanted. Adryan shivered again. His breath formed little clouds in front of his face and he thought longingly of his warm bed. He glanced around and his eyes landed on the wooden trunks where the guards stored their practice weapons. Adryan had only looked inside them once or twice under the supervision of his fighting master, Kenneth, but he remembered that they were filled with wooden swords, padded gloves, and some fighting staffs.

“You’re not cold are you?” a voice behind him demanded.

Adryan recognised the voice immediately. He half-turned his head to glare at his little sister. Unlike him, the cold didn’t seem to bother her. She wore the tunic and soft, leather boots that she wore when she trained and someone - one of the servants, most likely - had pulled her hair into a tight braid so that it didn’t fall into her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Father wants to train me as well.”

“Why? You’re too young for training. You’re only six winters old.”

“And you’re only nine winters old. Anyway, that’s not what the fighting masters say.” She stuck her tongue out again.  “They say I’m just as good as you are. I think I’m better.”

Adryan glared at her. “No, you’re not.”

“Then why am I doing better in all our lessons?”

He wanted to call her a liar, but it was true. Tzulia did all the same subjects he did and understood them better than he did. And she could fight well, particularly with the kama.

He didn’t like the kama - actually, he thought they were a bit scary because of their sharp blades. Not that the fighting masters had let her use the real ones yet. Still, Adryan shuddered whenever he saw her slicing away at the air with the wooden practice blades as though she was attacking hordes of enemies.

Adryan hated that some of the teachers would go on and on about how clever Tzulia was. Tzulia seemed to be the favourite among the teachers. Well, not with Nestor. Or Adryan’s uncle Tasion. Or Kenneth or - all right. Maybe the teachers didn’t all have Tzulia as a favourite. Only the ones who taught boring things like mathematics or geography. 

Suddenly Tzulia giggled and Adryan’s attention snapped back to the present.

“You’re cold!  I can see you shivering!”

“No,” he said and tried to stop shaking.

            “Yes, you are, you big baby.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“Yes, you are. That’s why I beat you in sparring yesterday.” She giggled. “And you cried.”

“I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did - ”

They both turned at the sound of heavy boots crunching across sand, and Adryan flinched at the sight of their father - Prince Consort, Rensto. He looked as tough as a panther, with scars all along his arms and his short, bristly hair. Adryan felt his stomach shrivel as he saw that Rensto had both of his swords strapped to his back, and a third sword dangling from his belt. Adryan knew that those weren’t the only weapons Rensto carried - he’d once seen his father arm himself and somehow manage to carry several daggers, a garrotte and knuckle-dusters in addition to his three swords. He wore his usual shirt of metal rings and a strange waistcoat made from the skin of some Kumali animal.

Rensto stopped a few feet away and eyed them; Adryan felt like one of the cuts of meat farmers tried to sell to the palace cooks.

Rensto grimaced and finally said, “It appears that your mother hasn’t completely ruined you two in my absence.” Adryan fought not to wince at the words. “But I do need to test your skills.”

He looked around the training arena and Adryan’s eyes followed his over the climbing wall and the rope climbing nets.

Rensto’s eyes snapped back to them.  “Let’s start with a test of speed. I want you to run the length of the training arena. Now!”

Adryan started, saw that Tzulia had already sprinted ahead of him, and ran. He struggled to run on the soft sand. He pushed aside the thought of his aching muscles. He gritted his teeth and ran faster. The distance between the two of them grew shorter and shorter until he was right behind her.

 

Alongside her.

 

Ahead of her.

He caught sight of her shocked face out of the corner of his eye and it was enough to push him to move faster so that he finished with a clear lead.

He doubled over panting as she came over to him. He was happy to hear her panting too. She folded her arms “That’s…no fair. You…cheated.”

“Did . . . not.”

“Did too.”

“Did- ”

They both fell silent as Rensto approached, his fingers drumming on the hilt of his sword.

“What are you doing?” he asked, softly as his eyes shifted between them.

They glanced at each other.

“We just ran the lap you asked for?” Adryan said hesitantly.

“I didn’t say that you could stop. Keep going.”

“How many times?” Adryan knew it was the wrong thing to ask as soon as the words left his mouth.

Rensto gave him a look that made him want to hide in the sand. “Are you so weak that you need to count? You’ll keep running until I tell you to stop. And may the gods help you if you even think of slowing down.”

Adryan sucked air into his burning lungs and ran. His sweaty hair clung to his scalp. He ran faster. He concentrated on Tzulia. One moment she was ahead of him, then he’d pass her, only for her to overtake him again. He focused on staying ahead of her. It was easier than thinking about the sweat flowing down his back or his aching muscles.

 

“Stop!”

Adryan’s legs gave out and he sprawled face-down in the cold sand. His lungs screamed and his throat felt like he’d scrubbed it raw. Everything hurt. He heard Tzulia gasping beside him and turned his head. Tzulia lay next to him and it made him feel a little better to see that she was struggling too.

“Who . . . won?” she managed to gasp.

“I don’t care,” he replied, struggling to get his breathing under control.

He couldn’t think beyond the ache in his spent muscles. He heard heavy boots crunching the sand and he gasped as icy water drenched him. He jerked upright, spluttering as sand stuck to his skin and he tried to wipe it away. He hated the feeling of sticky sand. Rensto set down the bucket, jerked his head to the left and said. “Drink some water and then come over to the climbing wall.”

Adryan looked at where Rensto indicated and saw a large jug of water beside two cups, towels and a plate of sliced oranges on one of the benches. Standing near the bench were some of the palace guards, dressed for training in padded tunics. But, instead of stepping into the arena, they seemed content to watch Rensto train the two of them. Adryan felt his ears burn as he realised they had all seen him collapse in the sand. He stumbled over to the water and gulped down two cups while Tzulia ripped into the oranges. She looked exhausted and the sight poked at Adryan’s conscience.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

            “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. You?”

“I’ll be all right.”

She handed him an orange slice and Adryan bit down into the fruit. Sweetness burst across his tongue.

“Thank you,” he mumbled around the mouthful.

“You’re wel- ”

“Stop your chatter and get over here,” Rensto snapped.

The children glanced at each other and then walked stiffly to the climbing wall. Adryan hated the thing - it was too high and the footholds and handholds were too far apart for him. Even the ropes that were supposed to help the climber hurt Adryan’s hands when he used them. As they approached, Rensto shot up the wall. He climbed barehanded, ignoring the ropes dangling from the wall. Once he reached the top, he drew out one of the daggers he kept on him and cut through both the ropes. They slithered through the air as they fell and landed with a thud in front of Adryan. Then, Rensto dropped back down and folded his arms.

“Climb the wall,” he ordered.

Adryan glanced at his sister. He saw her go pale, but then Tzulia took a deep breath and dashed forward and scrambled up the wall. She slipped and struggled, but Adryan saw she was moving upwards.

Adryan hesitated. “Did I stutter?” Rensto asked in a low voice.

“No, sir.”

“Then go!”

Adryan charged at the wall and grabbed one of the handholds. Its surface was slick against his sweaty palms. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on each grip as he worked his way up the wall. Then his fingers slipped and the wall rushed past as he fell. He smashed into the ground and lay there, gasping for air.

“Get up.”

Adryan tried, he really did, but his arms and legs didn’t listen to him. He heard heavy footsteps and looked up into Rensto’s furious face.

“Get up.”

He couldn’t. He opened his mouth - and cried out as Rensto’s boot slammed into his ribs.

“Pathetic.” Rensto hit him again and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. “Utterly pathetic. This is the offspring I get? You’re almost not worth the effort - at least your sister got to the top of the wall.”

Adryan tried to speak but could only manage a whimper. Rensto kicked him again, and folded his arms. “Well, I can see that sparring is out of the question. I have a different test in mind.”

Rensto nodded at one of the guards standing at the edge of the ring. Adryan turned his head and watched as the guard hesitated for a moment. Then, he thumped his fist over his heart and bowed, before leaving the training arena. Adryan wondered where he went. Then, Rensto’s eyes darted back to him.

“Well, get up. Stop being useless.”

Adryan gritted his teeth and pushed hard against the ground. His muscles screamed and trembled and pain pulsed through him. Tears mixed with the sweat on his face. He eventually managed to sit up and saw that his father was looking in the direction that the guard ran off. There was a scowl on his face. Adryan shuddered and glanced at Tzulia instead. She stared back at him with a strange expression on her face, one that sent a chill down his spine. He looked away and clenched his jaw and, as he forced himself onto his feet, he heard shouting at the other end of the arena. He looked around and his eyes widened. The guard had returned and was dragging two children with him. Adryan wondered who they were - they didn’t look like the servants Adryan usually saw around the palace. Their clothes were torn and they were splattered with dirt and grime.

The guard thrust them at Rensto and stepped back. Rensto assessed them. The children trembled under his gaze. The boy looked away, but the girl kept her eyes fixed on his father through the matted curls that framed her face. Adryan thought she was very brave to look at his father like that while he was so angry.

 “They’ll do fine.”

Rensto drew two daggers from his belt. He offered the daggers hilt first to Adryan and Tzulia. She snatched the dagger, slashed through the air and gave a cry of delight. “It’s so light!” She ran a finger along the edge. “And so sharp!”

Rensto raised an eyebrow, though Adryan thought he saw something like approval in his father’s eyes. He looked at Adryan and said, “Take the dagger.”

Adryan plucked the dagger from his father’s grip. It was beautiful - the hilt was shaped into a soaring eagle so that the wings formed the guard. The blade gleamed and Adryan could see various shades of silver in the metal of the blade.

“Now, listen carefully. I want you to take one of these things,” he gestured at the two children, “and force it to open its hand. Then, you are going to cut its palm. I want you to keep cutting until I tell you to stop.”

The guard cleared his throat. “My Lord, is that really necessary?”

Rensto narrowed his eyes at the guard. There was a flash of silver and the guard staggered backwards, clutching his bleeding cheek.

“Do not question me.” Rensto snarled as he sheathed the dagger. “You obey�"regardless of my orders. I am the Prince Consort here.”

The guard stared at him with wide eyes. He pulled his hand away from his face and bowed. Rensto waved his hand and the guard backed away to the edge of the training arena. Adryan saw the other guards shift restlessly, but none of them stepped forward to stop this cruelty.

Rensto gestured at Tzulia. “You go first.”

She shook a little as she tightened her grip on the dagger.  There was a look in her eyes that Adryan really, really didn’t like. Her hand darted out and she seized the boy’s arm.  She yanked him forward. “Open your hand.”

The boy shook like a leaf, but didn’t move. Tzulia rammed the pommel of the dagger into his shoulder. He cried out and Tzulia forced his hand open. She slashed into his palm and he whimpered. He tried to twist away, but she smashed her foot into his knee. He collapsed and Tzulia shoved him to the ground and put him in one of the holds their fighting masters made them practice. Adryan went cold as he stared at the boy lying flat on his stomach. Tzulia pressed his face into the sand and she twisted his arm at a painful angle above his head. She then raised her dagger and Adryan suddenly had to look away.  But he couldn’t close his ears and the howls of pain pounded inside his head.

“Enough,” Rensto ordered. “You took it too far . . . . you tore apart his hand.”

“Sorry, father.” But, there was no apology in her voice.

Adryan risking looking back and saw Tzulia standing up. She went back to her position next to him. As she did, she smirked at him and wiped the blade clean on her tunic. Adryan glanced at the boy and felt sick when he saw how much blood was on the sand around him.

Rensto kicked the boy and he let out a cry. “Get out of here, and make sure I never see you again.”

He scrambled to his feet, clutching his mangled hand to his chest. With a sob, he sprinted out of the arena, leaving a blood-spatter trail behind him.

Once he was gone, Rensto’s eyes fixed on Adryan. “Your turn.”

Adryan swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the dagger. He stepped towards the girl. The colour bled from the girl’s face. She tried to run, but Rensto grabbed her arm and flung her at Adryan. He moved without thinking. He dropped the dagger and grabbed her before she could hit the ground.  She looked up at him and he saw the terror in her eyes. He could feel her shaking beneath his palms. Adryan let her go and reached for the dagger. Then he stopped.

Adryan looked up at his father. “Why?”

Rensto went very still “Why what?”

“Why do I have to hurt her? What did she do?”

“You don’t need to know.”

Adryan bit his lip and then, with courage he didn’t feel, he said. “No.”

“No?”

“No. I- it’s not right to hurt someone for no reason.”

“Then let me do it,” Tzulia said.

She took a step forward and Adryan pushed the girl behind him, away from both Tzulia and his father.

“No. I won’t let you hurt her.”

“What did you say?” His father’s voice was like ice.

Adryan’s knees shook. He stared at his father and said again, “I won’t let you hurt her.”

Rensto nodded. Then Adryan felt something slash his face before something else hit him and the world went white. He felt his feet lift from the ground. He hit the floor hard and curled up into a tight ball as the pain hit him like a sledgehammer. He could feel something warm and sticky trickling along his skin.

He heard screaming and shouting, but one voice stood out from the others: Rensto’s.

He said, “Go get cleaned up, you useless slug. You’re done here.”

 

***

 

Adryan winced as he gently wiped the bleeding cut on his face. It wasn’t very deep; at least, that was what the guard who’d dragged him into the washroom had said, though she had mentioned he’d probably have a scar to show for it. She’d also muttered something about his mother and uncle not being happy with Rensto, but when he’d tried to ask her about it, the guard had pointed to the cupboards lining the one wall and told him that he’d find all the supplies to tend to his cut inside before leaving him alone. Inside the cupboards, he’d found a soft cloth and a bottle of the stinging water the healers always used on cuts. He touched his face again and shuddered. He wished that there was a mirror he could use to see how bad it looked, but the washroom was very plain compared to his washroom in the palace. There were no mirrors or mosaics on the walls, or piles of soft, fluffy towels. Instead, there were a number of wooden chests that the soldiers stored their belongings in, as well as several benches for the guards to sit on. Behind a few navy curtains were deep baths that could be filled with hot, or cold, water. There were latrines as well, but they were in a separate area. 

Someone coughed behind him, and he spun around, dropping the cloth in surprise. It was the girl from the training arena. She looked even worse than before; there were fresh bruises on her arms and her tunic was missing a sleeve. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She blinked as though she hadn’t expected the question. “ . . . yes . . . I think so.”

He pointed at her bruises. “What happened?”

“They tried to catch me after you . . . but, I’m too fast. I ran away and I hid. Then I saw them bring you here, so I came here, too.” 

She chewed her lip for a moment and brought her gaze up, eyes fixed on the cut on his face. “Does it hurt?” she asked, as she came closer to him.

He tried to smile, and winced. “It’s not too bad.”

She nodded, then she bit her lip. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Protect me.”

“Wasn’t I supposed to?” Adryan asked. “Did you want to get hurt?”

“No,” the girl said, “but why did you do it?”

Adryan shrugged. “My mother always says that being a ruler means that you have to do what’s right. I was just doing what’s right.”

She tilted her head. “You’re weird.”

“What?”

“Everyone says that nobles are mean and cruel and nasty. And you’re the prince, so you’re supposed to be the worst . . .  but you’re not. It’s weird.”

“ . . . thank you?” Adryan wasn’t sure if there was a compliment in there somewhere, but the look of admiration she gave him made him puff his chest out. “It was nothing, really.”

“No, it wasn’t.” She frowned. “You got hurt . . . doesn’t anyone protect you?’

“My mother’s guards are supposed to, but . . .” He trailed off, and she said “I can do it!”

He laughed and then yelped as the cut on his face twinged.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“You can’t protect me. You’re too little.”

Anger sparked in her golden-brown eyes. “Just wait. I’ll be your guard and I’ll be the best guard ever. You’ll see.”

He laughed harder and she stomped her foot. “Stop laughing at me!”

“All right. I’m sorry.”  Then an idea hit him. “Hey, why don’t we be friends?”

She bit her lip. “I want to be your guard. I don’t know if I can be your friend as well.”

“Please? It would be more fun if we were friends.”

“Erm . . .”

“Come on,” he said excitedly, “why not?”

He had other friends - some of the servant children who didn’t care that his mother was the Tian and a few of the guards’ children, too. A few times, people would pretend to be his friend just so that they could be friendly with his mother- Adryan didn’t like them. But this girl didn’t seem like any of them. She was different and he liked it. A lot.

The girl pushed her dark curls out of her face as she thought. “You’re the prince. I think it’s against the rules for us to be friends.”

“If I’m the prince I get to make the rules. And I say we can be friends! If you want?”

She giggled. “I’d like that.”

He held out his hand. “I’m Adryan Donovan Caeruleus.”

“That’s a funny name!”

“Hey!

She grabbed his hand and shook it before smiling at him. Adryan decided that he really liked her smile. 

“I’m Zeva Temisa, So, are we friends?”

“Yes. Friends forever.”

 

Author's Note

Here's my first piece of writing uploaded to this site. Please, let me know what you all think of it.

This is now part of my short story collection, which is available here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1157168

Reviews

[LJ]

I like this first piece!
If it were me, I might change the 'hook' a bit to make it immediately more interesting than it is -- perhaps not describe the arena first. As it is, the action parts make us 'see' that place, and maybe the initial description isn't necessary. Just a thought.
The way the two siblings fight, both each other and perhaps the Prince Consort (doesn't he know what "consort" means? lol) is very revealing by the end. I like the slow 'reveals' ... and the details you include. I hope to read more about Adryan in particular. I believe his sister is... well, I don't want to give anything away. I did notice she gave her brother a slice of orange. Hmm...
Do you know why this site has those black diamonds in part of your writing? I don't. But I"d try to fix those, simply because they can be called too irritating. They're not. But surely you've seen that few read prose here. At least, I haven't found many.
Your story is thoughtful and doesn't dwell on the cruelty mentioned. It tells us about 'the boy' and I'd like to read more. I hope you've continued to write this intriguing tale.
LJ

[TamsinDaya]

Thank you so much for the feedback. I appreciate it, particularly since this is my first time posting here.

Yes, his sister is a piece of work. She, sadly, takes after her father, whilst Adryan inherited more of his mother's characteristics.

I'll see if I can remove the black diamonds, but I honestly don't know where they came from--they certainly weren't in my word doc! Lol.

I'm actually hoping to write a whole novel with these characters--this was just a short piece to see if others found the characters as interesting as I did!

[Cherrie Palmer]

I loved it. It is well crafted and ended to soon.
You could add many more adventures for this group.

[TamsinDaya]

Thank you so much. I actually did just that--they appear in my short story collection that I mentioned on my profile page and I'm planning to use them in novels later on.

Thank you for the review!

[Cherrie Palmer]

Well you have a great foundation

[TamsinDaya]

Thank you again! It mean alot!

[TheDragonMage]

Hey, not too bad. Very dialogue heavy, but it's nice to keep that focus when you're focusing on the characters like this. I like it.