The Academy - 5. Part 5

Chapter Eleven:

Abandoned

Field Marshal Lukas walked across the domed hall of the council chambers on the island of Sol, the heart of the Federation, two officers holding pots of gold paint following him. "Not much of a fight... would you not say?" Lukas laughed.

"Yes sir." G-7, General Prat, nodded, followed by his brother, Commander Aegis, fresh from the Academy.

"You handled this fight brilliantly... captured most of the ships

in port as well as the Federation treasury."

"They did not expect us to come here in such numbers... that proved to be their undoing," Prat said with a hint of sarcasm. Everyone knew what a fool the Field Marshal had turned out to be as a war leader, leaving a third of his army stranded on the Island of Eb.

In most cases Lukas would challenge and kill such an insolent man but Lukas dared not to kill General Prat as things were. Prat was his most successful general and he could not afford to lose him... just yet. But just as dusk was eventually followed by dawn, so would General Prat's star set... then, Lukas would have his revenge for such an insult.

"Where to now, Field Marshal?" Commander Aegis, asked.

Looking at the tiled floor of the main conference room of the Federation, Lukas saw a map of the known world, the Federation kingdoms made of pure white tiles, the empire in Gold, while the Confederacy was in red. Lukas took a thick brush out of the paint pot and began coloring the white tiles until nearly a third were the same gold color as the Empire. "These are the lands we have so far conquered... Freen, Yelding, and Dorsa. By controlling Sol we control

the rivers that lead from the interior of the Federation to the sea, cutting them off from support from Jadoor. From here we will..."

"Excuse me sir... but do we even know where the main Jadoorian army is?" Prat asked concerned.

"Still in Jadoor for all we know," Lukas said dismissively.

"But sir... Jadoor is made up of religious fanatics... it is rumored that their church has armed hundreds of thousands of men and woman. My question is why have we not faced them... except at Eb that is?"

"What are you suggesting?" Lukas asked peevishly. With his failure at Eb, Lukas was sure that the other Field Marshals doubted his leadership and might attempt to remove him if they knew of a viable replacement... a man such as Prat.

"Sir, right now we only have 70,000 Centurion on the field of battle here on the mainland and, while we have conquered three kingdoms already, it was mostly without the resistance we had expected. My question is... when is the enemy going to strike its own hammer blow?"

"And do you have an answer?" Lukas asked impatiently.

"My brother Aegis does, sir." Prat nodded to the commander standing next to him.

"So tell me, Commander...what is the enemy planning?"

"Sir, by looking at the map, my guess is that the Jadoorians have already moved their armies from their home island and are based in Draktor and Gladmore."

"Why so far north... we have not even invaded Uul or the Rapa States?" Lukas asked, "Can it be possible that Jadoor is too scared to face us in open battle?"

"I do not think so, sir."

"Then why are they not defending their allies?"

"Sir... Uul and the Rapa States are basically made up of empty plains. There is no way to defend such territory without spending a lot of time building forts which neither they nor we have had time for."

"Your point being?"

"My point, Field Marshal, is that they can't defend such lands from us."

"That is my point exactly! They are too scared to face us."

"Or they might be too smart," Prat argued, receiving a fast armored blow from Lukas.

"Insolence... I will not have insolence in my army!"

"Sir, if you will please listen..." Aegis begged as he tried to help his brother up from being on his armored back like an upside down turtle.

"I have heard enough... it is quite clear to me now what the two of you want. You think I rushed into things at Eb, well, I might have. That does not mean you stop chasing the enemy when you have him on the run. Now you will go back to your Legions and prepare them to march... Uul is waiting for us and general... I demand you follow 'MY' plans to the letter. Do I make myself clear?" General Prat was just able to give a nod of the head when Lukas stormed out.

"He is going to get us all killed," Aegis spat once the Field Marshal was gone. "Word from Eb is that the Famulus rowers revolted and escaped with most of the ships. They must have known Lukas had given Admiral Urrak permission to slaughter them to save on rations"

"Hush your voice... he is still our Field Marshal," Prat scolded his younger brother. "It is true, I was in the command tent when the message reach Lukas. The rowers might have betrayed us, or they might not have. I know for a fact that none of the supply ships were taken."

"So, all they were trying to do was save their own lives. Maybe we should heed their actions and do the same. If you want my opinion..." Aegis said before being cut off by his brother.

"I do... but not when it comes to insulting a superior officer," Prat said before storming out after Lukas.

"So be it... but if you end up dead, don't look to me for blame," Aegis grunted before following.

Chapter Twelve:

Honor and Revenge

It was in Horst's class that Jason received the first of his marks... Passing out small slips of paper, Horst dared to spit on Jason's before handing it to him.

Written on it to Jason's shock was the mark of zero, crossed out and replaced with a five, the top mark one could get. Stamped over the mark was the sigil of the sickle and the shield, the family mark of Commandant Oktor."

Showing it to Kristen, Jason received a rewarding smile in return.

"Well, I hope you know that you did not earn that mark... only a slutty boy like you could seduce the Commandant into giving you such high marks."

On those words passing Horst's lips, Kristen's fist flew and hit the Academic right below the jaw.

Once he had recovered from the blow, Horst's face went red with anger. "Traitorous Famulus... I will have your head for this!"

"I would like to see you take it... are you sure that my master will not challenge you to the ring to stop you?"

"I've read the law... a student may not challenge his teacher. No, my dear Famulus... your head is mine!" "Is that not for me to decide?" Oktor stepped in looking fairly

angry at both Jason and Horst." "Famulus... you will be flogged before the rest of your kind tomorrow at dawn. Horst... you are now under suspension. Academic Landis will take over your class while you serve in the Famulus quarters. Jason... to my office... at once!"

Sullen faced, Jason left his desk and followed the Commandant out of the classroom to the top floor of the Cube... He was led to one of the corner rooms. Inside there was no desk, or chairs, just straw mats, pillows and a low table.

"Please sit," Oktor said, more calmly than he had in the classroom.

Jason sat on one of the large pillows and waited with apprehension as Oktor sat across the table from him.

"When I learned you would be joining the Academy, I knew that things here would change, and for the most part that change has been good. What I do not like, however, is the aura of chaos that seems to surround you."

"But..." Jason tried to protest. He did not know what he had done wrong this time."

"Jason... I am not saying all the things that happen around you are your fault, but you are a nexus... when people come in contact with you the very path of their lives changes."

"I'm sorry..."

"I know you are," Oktor said with some sympathy. "I am also sorry for hurting all those other students." "That you should. I know that Alex is your deepest friend and

that he has been helping you master the staff, but you are making the

same mistakes he makes." "But Alex never loses."

"That's right... and that is because he always fights as if his honor is at stake. When you spar with a person you don't have to fight as if you are about to be murdered... That is what the teachers are for... to see that no one gets hurt. Varrus, though, has been allowing you to lose control. Do you know what has always happened when you lose control?"

"Someone gets hurt," Jason said guiltily.

"Correct... so no more dueling... understand? Everyone already knows you are the best. You send any more Legatio to the healers, people are going to think you are as crazed as Alex is."

"Alex is not crazed."

"Oh yes he is... and that worries me."

"How can you say that... he is one of your best students?"

"Only because he is obsessed with being the best in everything. Best in academics, besting our own teachers in combat, and wanting the best bond-mate, or have you not noticed?!"

"Who is the best bond-mate?"

"That would be you, my troublesome Legatio. Not that already half the Centurions in the Academy want to bond to you, but Alex has already gotten into several duels to make sure that none but he and Gideon can get close to you."

"I didn't know."

"I thought so," Oktor nodded.

"But why me... I am a horrible person... My mother hated me; Melissa died because of me. I even hurt people..."

"Jason... you have consumed too much anima in such a short time. It is understandable if you are confused. You are, and always will be, a Legatio... inside where it counts. But your body - and sometimes your thoughts - are very much like a Centurion's. You will one day have to decide if ‘acting' like a Centurion is worth the emotional pain it will cause you when you fail at being one. Not to mention placing your very life at risk. Why do you think Centurions wear white when they

are not dressed for battle, while Legatio always wear red?" "I don't know..." Jason admitted.

Oktor took in a deep breath before replying. There was so much that Jason just did not understand. "Centurions wear white when not on duty as a sign of peace... so long as a Centurion wears white he is committing himself to make no act of violence... to shed no blood."

"And Legatio?" "Legatio... well you know too well what happens when a Legatio bleeds. The flow of blood does not stop unless anima or Centurion bone is used to stop it. Legatio wear red to serve as a reminder of their fatal weakness. You, on the other hand, seem to use it to cover up your injuries." Oktor laughed.

"I try not to get hurt."

"I know... it is your desire to be a Centurion that's causing this problem. A Legatio who tries to pretend to be a Centurion never lives long."

"But... I want to be a Centurion." "Jason... you are a Legatio. One day you will begin having wives

and dozens of Centurion children of your own. You can't get caught up in this play acting you have taken on."

"I understand." Jason nodded, but left feeling heart broken. Not since the tower had someone told him what he could not do. It was hard to admit, but he had become spoiled, not to the extent that most Legatio were... but spoiled all the same. "I am sorry if my behavior has been dishonorable."

"Don't worry about honor Jason... I know you have a good heart and a clever mind so put them to good use. Now hurry on... I don't want to make you late for your arithmetic class." "Yes Commandant." Jason nodded as he stood up to leave.

"Goodbye, Jason." Oktor waved, turning his attention to a letter from the Senate. For days now they had demanded that Jason be brought under control, with threats of a trial of expulsion if his behavior did not improve. Such interference in the management of the Academy so enraged Oktor that, once Jason was gone, he tore up the letter, including the Imperial Senate seal, a crime in and of itself.

"Damn if I let those bastards have the boy!"

At lunch Jason met up with Alex and Gideon at their regular spot on the Centurion side of the mess hall. "Can you fail out of the Academy?" Jason sighed. In history and arithmetic he had received barely passing marks.

"Only if you fail every course... which means you have nothing to fear." Alex laughed.

"Why?"

"Do you really think Varrus or Oktor will fail you... you're their best student." Gideon grinned. "I, on the other hand, am barely passing any of my courses but fencing."

"What about you, Alex?"

"I earned top marks in all my classes but the one that counts," Alex pouted.

"Dueling?" Gideon laughed.

"Yes... can you believe that Instructor Lorin took three points off my marks for winning too often?"

Jason... now aware of Alex's obsession to win, was not so

surprised... in fact it worried him. "Did you hurt anyone?"

"If I did it was their fault... I mean am I to blame if they can't defend themselves," Alex said a little too arrogantly.

"But you never have hurt me."

"Of course... you are a Legatio."

"That does not make it right," Jason said, becoming more upset.

"What's not right?" Alex asked confused, while Gideon looked embarrassed.

"I don't like you hurting people!" Jason shouted at the top of his voice, before running the away from the table.

"Well now you've done it," Gideon groaned.

"Done what?" Alex asked, now mad himself.

"Oktor told me he was going to talk to Jason about his dueling..."

"And?"

"Well, don't you think Jason has been a little too aggressive... like you are?"

"Not our fault."

"You might feel that way, but I am not sure Jason does," Gideon said before standing up and leaving. Before Alex knew it, he was sitting all alone, his anger fuming.

Chapter Thirteen:

Trouble Comes in Threes

Out of all the students in his staff class, Jason was the only one to whom Varrus gave top marks. He loved his Legatio student. Jason always listened, was eager to learn, and was a natural with the staff. In a matter of weeks Varrus was able to move Jason from his wooden practice staff to using the iron-shod dueling staff all the time. Since none of the Legatio students ever caught up to Jason, the only person he sparred with was Varrus, which suited both just fine.

"Very good, Jason!" Varrus grinned as he was forced close to the edge of the ring.

"You are only letting me win!" Jason laughed as he stepped back to give Varrus more room.

"I am giving you a challenging opponent for someone of your skill!" Varrus grinned.

"Well, make him more challenging!" Jason dared.

"You asked for it," Varrus replied, right before making a series of overwhelming attacks forcing Jason out of the ring. "Challenging enough for you?"

"Yes!" Jason said, eagerly jumping back in. "Alright... let me just lower it a notch. I want you to stand a chance." Varrus snickered. Soon the two were sparring again, Varrus throwing a series of heavy attacks, which he was sure would push Jason back. They didn't. Jason was able to hold on... if only barely, and made a few attacks of his own. It was all going well, until they tried to attack at the same time,

their staves slamming against each other to the sound of cracking wood with Jason falling down, holding the broken staff.

"Jason, are you alright!" Varrus asked worried, afraid that the sound was of the breaking of bone.

"Yes..." Jason said as he let go of the cracked staff. "I guess I

used too much force." "Hahahahaha... you really did," Varrus agreed. "If you can swing hard enough to break a staff I think we need to move you up to

a heavier one." Varrus grinned, holding his own custom-made steel-

plated staff. "He has one!" Philip's voice boomed from the third floor balcony.

"He does?" Varrus said, surprised, over the shouting of his other students.

"It's here?" Jason asked eagerly, remembering the special staff Logan the weapons smith promised to make for him.

"Yes... weapons master Logan finally finished it. It came with today's supply train," Philip replied.

"Yes!" Jason shouted.

"You have a Logan-made staff?" Varrus said, impressed. "We went to his shop just before coming to school here," Jason explained as he headed toward the stairs to meet Philip.

Meeting on the second floor, Philip handed Jason a long, dark, polished wood case. Jason opened it to find a six-foot-long steel-plated staff, leafed in gold. It was carved to look like a well-lined oak branch. When Jason took it out and held it in his hands he was amazed that he was able to grab it firmly. He then moved his hands to the middle of the staff finding that it had perfect balance.

"It is beautiful workmanship." Philip smiled, his eyes sparkling from the reflection of the gold. "It's perfect," Jason agreed.

"Want to bring it down and give it a try?" Varrus yelled from below them.

"I want to do the hundred exercises with it first!" Jason called back. He had learned all one hundred exercises of a staff master... he just had not done them all at once as required to earn the rank of master.

"Class is almost over and I don't want to earn Academic Melkior's wrath. How about after dinner? Then the commandant and the other Centurion teachers can watch," Varrus recommended. "Alright," Jason said... he felt nervous knowing that the

Centurion teachers would watch his attempt at finishing the one hundred exercises.

It was a nervousness that lasted into his class with Melkior.

"What is wrong, lad... you've not said a word all day." "I'm going to try and earn my staff mark today," Jason said agitated.

"And you were not going to tell me?" Melkior laughed.

"..." Jason only blushed.

"Oh, I see you are afraid of embarrassing yourself. Well, let me show you something," Melkior said as he got up from his chair, tossing off his cloak. He then slowly took off his shirt revealing a pale and frail body. When he turned his back to Jason, Jason saw that his back was covered with tattoos, including the mark of a staff master.

"You never told me you also had Centurion marks," Jason said amazed as he got up from his chair and moved closer so he could see

the marks better. "I thought I was the only one." "You never asked." Melkior chuckled. "You didn't think you were the only Legatio to have earned the marks, did you?"

"From what everyone's been telling me, I thought so." "Well you're not. All the first Legatio earnedmarks, but

eventually accidents became too common. Too many Legatio wanted to master the sword... something that resulted in many of them dying. Then many of the older Legatio began to feel they were superior to their Centurion cousins... They saw the tattoos as something to be

embarrassed about. When the Centurion father dies, the Legatio child

moves into an old Legatio's household, just like Felix did. The Legatio guardians put pressure on their charges not to get the marks even if they earned them. Within a few centuries no Legatio child allowed himself to be marked."

"I see. Things are changing now though."

"Yes, and you're the one responsible for a lot of it," Melkior said in a warning tone.

"I know, the Legatio don't like what I am doing, but it makes the Centurions happy."

"Yes it does... you have become very special to them, but it has also earned you enemies. You do know that?"

"I know the teachers give me a lot of extra work because I have Centurion friends."

"That's nothing... it is the senators you have to worry about. With your popularity I would not be surprised if the Centurions don't try to elect you as head of the Senate. There are many senators who would not like that."

"I know someone wants to kill me."

"Yes, I've talked to Caleb about it," Melkior sighed. "I don't

know who wants you dead, but I am sure it has to be a Legatio Senator

and a powerful one."

"There can only be a few that powerful," Jason realized.

"Yes." Melkior grinned, happy that Jason could see that.

"You don't know, but you have a guess?" "I do," Melkior replied, returning to his seat without putting his robe back on.

"Who?" Jason asked, wanting to put a name to his foe.

"Who would want you dead and has enough power and influence to get away with it? The only person I know who fits that

description is Senator Perils." "But why?"

"Well, you did beat Felix... Perils is the boy's guardian and had big hopes for him. Your humiliating Felix damaged those plans. You are also good friends with Alex... the boy who made his son Gideon a cripple. Finally, there are only two things Legatio senators respect, money and influence. Perils is rich in both. In fact, there is only one person who can threaten him in those areas. Do you know who that person is?" Melkior said, pointing a finger as he gave each reason.

"Me..." Jason whispered, his heat pounding in his chest.

"Yes... you."

"How is he going to kill me?" Jason asked, afraid of the answer.

"Well, right now Perils believes Caleb will do the deed... triggering a war with the Eastern Confederation," Melkior said,stopping when he saw Jason's worry. "Don't worry Jason, Caleb will not kill you. He has his own goals, goals that require that you live, at least for now."

"What does he want of me?"

The ancient academic leaned forward on his desk. "He wants to help you rule Qul Tos and bring it to new glory... that is what he wants."

"Will I ever go back to Qul Tos?" Jason asked, nervously.

"One day you will... you are the king," Melkior pointed out.

"I don't know if I ever want to go back there," Jason stammered before continuing. "I don't have any happy memories of my home. Domus is my home now."

"That only means you need to go back. You need to face those memories and conquer them. In the last message Caleb received from the master of the Legatio baths, he has been told to hold off killing you, at least for now. With a third of the Western Army trapped on the island of Eb, Horace's employer is not eager to start another war. Still, Field Marshal Darius is keeping a close eye eastward and is very busy trying to seal a peace agreement with the Confederacy. If he is successful, he and the Eastern Army will return to Domus where they can influence the government. I am sure Senator Perils would not like that."

Jason did not understand why the senator would not want Darius in Domus. "Why would that be bad?"

"Because the Eastern Army follows the old traditions while the Home Guard is more loyal to their pockets and the Senate than the empire. They and Field Marshal Xavier are nothing more than puppets of Perils. My guess is that Perils wanted both the Eastern and Western Field Marshals out of the capital fighting wars. That would make the Senate and Xavier supreme, able to pass any laws they wanted, including closing the Gate to Domus. They could even order the deaths of the other two Field Marshals on some trumped up charge of treason."

"But their men would never allow that?"

"Yes it would mean civil war," Melkior agreed. "With control of the mountains on Domus' border, the Home Guard can withstand any siege. Perils knows he only has to survive a dozen years for the Eastern and Western armies to die out. He would then be supreme."

"How can we stop him?" Jason asked.

"What is this about ‘we'?" Melkior laughed. "You are already in enough trouble as it is, my boy."

"But I want to help."

"The best way you can do that is to keep your nose clean." Melkior then leaned over his desk to whisper. "No one but the teachers know this so I don't want you to go tell your partners in crime..."

"Partners in crime?" Jason asked as he leaned forward to hearbetter.

"Alex and Gideon of course. I think you would get into a lot

less trouble if those two clowns were not putting ideas into your head."

Melkior chuckled.

"They are my friends," Jason pouted.

"Yes I know. Still, they get you into enough trouble as is. Do I have to remind you of your last two duals?"

"They told me that those two Legatio were beating up one of my friends."

"And now both of them are with the healer."

"They are getting better."

"Like Felix?" Jason gulped guiltily.