Jean Lorrah - Sorcerers of the Frozen Isles

“Torio!”

Melissa grasped his hand and pulled him out of the way. “You were going to walk right into that wagon!

What thought is so important to keep hidden?”

Of course he resumed Reading immediately, and found Maldek’s face saying, “I told you so,” even though he did not broadcast the thought. There was something else in the Master Sorcerer’s eyes, too-some speculation that made Torio wince in anticipation. But how could he be more vigilant than he already was?

In the middle of the night, Torio woke with a start in a cold sweat, absolute terror clutching his gut.

Gray came and licked his face, and he clung to the dog, taking comfort in the warm, unquestioning reality of the creature.

The dream was gone. He could not remember anything but mindless terror. All he knew was that it was a dream he had had often as a child-a dream laden with guilt, as if all the horrors of the world were to be laid at his door.

But he could never remember it, and as he grew up it came less frequently, and only at times of stress.

He had dreamed it after the battle at Adigia, in which Decius lost his leg, and again after the earthquake at Gaeta and the fall of Tiberium.

Each time he had dreamed it when something he had said or done had ended in harm. But yesterday-he could not remember anything he had said or done that had hurt anyone. Was he afraid of having antagonized Maldek? Perhaps that was it. Whether the Master Sorcerer’s attempts to reform were sincere or for some ulterior purpose, what did it matter as long as people were healed and none were turned orbu-at least for a time? He should put aside his skepticism, and allow Maldek’s people whatever benefits the Lord of their Land might give them, however temporary.

Three days later, Bryen’s hand was the size of a half-grown child’s, and he could move it freely. “It will simply grow now, until it reaches normal size in a few weeks,” Maldek told him.

“So now what?” Bryen asked, looking from the hand up at Maldek. “I can’t believe you done this just for my sake.”

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t do it for you at all,” Maldek explained. “Come with me, Bryen. There is someone I want you to meet.”

Zanos was with Torio in the courtyard, practicing with broadswords-and winning easily because Torio’s attention was divided.

“What’s the matter with you today?” the gladiator asked. “You’re giving me no more challenge than Gray could, trying to wield a sword with his teeth!”

At the mention of his name, Gray woofed and wagged his tail. The first time he had seen Zanos apparently attack Torio he had come between them, growling and threatening-but Torio had finally made him understand that it was a game, so now he sat and watched, waiting for his turn to play.

Knowing that Maldek and Melissa were bringing Bryen to the courtyard, Torio let himself concentrate on the match and began to give Zanos a bit of competition. The broadsword was a much better weapon for the gladiator’s strength than for Torio’s speed, but Zanos insisted every man ought to know how to fight with whatever weapon was at hand, so Torio swung and ducked, and almost caught Zanos off guard with a feint, drawing a delighted laugh from the gladiator.

“That’s the way! But a good broadswordsman would-” He came in under Torio’s guard-but the younger man jumped back and pivoted, swinging sideways at Zanos’ exposed biceps.

The gladiator whirled just in time and took the bl blow on his heavy chest padding, bringing him within reach of Torio’s neck.

The practice sword merely stung, but Torio protested, “That move would work in the arena, or any time you’re wearing armor-but if you weren’t shielded, my strike would have killed you.”

“If I weren’t shielded, I wouldn’t have allowed you so close,” Zanos replied. “But I concede-we hadn’t defined whether we were supposedly wearIing armor or not.”

“I’ve never worn armor,” said Torio. “You have two sets of reflexes, Zanos-one for arena-style combat and one for other fighting. How do you keep them apart?”

“Reflexes aren’t enough. You know that,” laughed Zanos, with a stabbing blow that Torio easily parried.

“You’re thinking all the time, Torio-but at the same time you act without deliberating. You have a natural talent-I could have made a gladiator out of you!”

Zanos thrust. Torio deflected his sword and swung again-but his arms were growing tired after a long exercise with the weighted practice broadsword. Zanos could probably go on all day.

He Read Zanos Read his fatigue and start to lay on, driving Torio back toward the wall. The Reader retreated, merely keeping up his guard and trying to let his muscles revive for-

One last flurry of blows!

Zanos grinned as Torio turned on him. “Good! Very good! / would have you, with my strength- but unless you came up against another gladiator, you’d win with that strategy, Torio.” And he dropped the tip of his sword to the ground, as a sign that the match was over.

“And what would you two do in an even match?” a voice asked, and Bryen strode across the courtyard.

“Maldek, is this what you had to show me- the perfect match for the victory games?”

The gambler circled the two panting men, saying, “I want to see you with light swords-or do either of you know how to use a pikestaff? What about wrestling? The local farmers like that-they’ll bet everything that’s left from their last harvest!”

Zanos stared at the intruder. “Who are you?” he asked, a warning tone in his voice.

Bryen ignored it. “They’ll all bet on the big one, of course. You, son,” he said to Torio, “you one of Maldek’s servants? You got talent there-quick moves. Think you can take this big fellow with a lighter weapon?”

“I’m not a gladiator,” Torio replied. “I’m a Reader,” he added, thinking that that unfair advantage would surely make him ineligible for whatever the gambler had in mind.

“All the better! Inner sight against brute strength — the crowd will love it! Maldek, can I take these men with me, to supervise their training? There’s only a few days left-I have to decide how to use them to best advantage before I put out the word-”

“Stop!” ordered Zanos. “I spent most of my life fighting in the arena-and I’m not going back to it to line the pockets of another gambler!”

“Oh, you’ll be paid!” said Bryen. “Both of you- you just do what I tell you, and we’ll line all our pockets!”

He started to turn back to Maldek, assuming that everything was settled with Zanos and Torio, but Zanos had fought too long for the right to control his own life. He grasped the man’s arm and pulled him back around, saying, “Maldek is not our master. No man is. I told you I will never again kill as an exhibit for other people’s pleasure! Torio?”

“I certainly won’t,” the Reader said.

“So we are agreed,” said Zanos, squeezing Bryen’s arm for emphasis-and lifting it enough that his eyes fell on the half-grown hand.

Torio felt astonishment stab through Zanos as he looked from the hand to Bryen’s face-to the fiery red hair with a sprinkling of white at the temples, the blue eyes. Torio could see the resemblance in the square jaw and the shape of the nose, but Bryen’s face had a hardness Zanos’ lacked, even though both men had known a lifetime of harsh survival.

For a long moment, Zanos only stared. Then, “Bryen?” he whispered. The gambler only stared at him.

“Bryen-don’t you know me? I’ve come all the way from Tiberium looking for you… my brother.”

NonReader, nonAdept, Bryen had no disciplines at all to hide his feelings. His utter amazement washed over Torio in a chill wave. “Zanos? Little brother?”