“Will you please stop moving!” Shera-Mar scolded Skel as she
stood on the boy’s shoulders to peer over the wall into the training
ground of the renowned legion.
Skel grunted unintelligibly as he shifted his large frame to
support his friend. But the balls of her feet dig painfully into his
shoulders, and he was seriously considering just dropping her. He
took a deep breath and tried to hold still, but Shera-Mar’s fidgeting
didn’t help.
“That’s better!” she said, her toes pushing into Skel’s bony
shoulders like cattle prods.
“Just hurry up!” Skel gasped with a red face, thinking that the
gold sovereign Shera-Mar had promised him wasn’t worth the pain.
He knew they shouldn’t be here anyway. The training ground was
forbidden to children and, well, if they got caught, there would be
no beef hotpot for his tea. His mama would not be pleased, and the
punishment of goat’s milk, dry bread, stale cheese, and an early bed
was uppermost in his mind.
Shera-Mar just giggled at his obvious discomfort. She’d chosen
Skel for her plan because he was big and strong. He’d been enticed
easily enough by the reward of the sovereign, and when school let
out she had skipped towards the training ground with Skel nervously
in tow.
With her eyes now just peering over the high wall, she watched
a group of legionnaires practising with battle-axes. She could hear
the cries of the seras shouting orders at the recruits. This place
thrilled her—it was where she wanted to be, just as soon as she was
old enough to join the ranks of the legendary Topazian Legion.
“You know . . . if your . . . father . . . finds out about this,” Skel
Paul J. Ward
426
gasped through gritted teeth, his shoulders burning in pain, “you
will be in . . . so much . . . trouble.”
She ignored him as she readjusted her feet, causing new pain to
bite into Skel’s shoulders.
Suddenly Skel heard footsteps, and he twisted his head
awkwardly to see around Shera-Mar’s leg. “Uh oh,” he said as he
saw a figure dressed in formal kingdom attire approaching them.
“Stop moving!” Shera-Mar scolded again.
“Someone’s coming!” Skel said fearfully, thinking that the goat’s
milk, dry bread, and stale cheese were now inevitable. “Get down!
Get down!” he ordered her.
“What?” Shera-Mar said with little interest, watching as the
recruits changed to spears, throwing the weapons low but hard
towards bales of hay.
“I’m off!” Skel suddenly declared, and Shera-Mar felt her feet
being shoved off his shoulders. She screamed and grabbed onto the
top of the wall, her nails racking across the dusty stone. She kicked
her feet desperately to find purchase, but could find none.
She dropped to the ground, landing as squarely as she could and
tucking into a sideways roll, just as father had taught her. She was
unhurt, but furious with Skel and looked up to see his large frame
scampering away. “Urik!” she yelled after him as she dusted her legs
off, deciding there was no way she was giving him that gold sovereign
now.
As she watched Skel disappear from view, she felt a presence
behind her. Shera-Mar turned her head tentatively, hoping it was
just her imagination. A figure stood there, and as she shielded her
eyes against the sun with her hand, she saw legs. They were a
woman’s, muscular and sun-bronzed. With one eye closed and the
other squinting against the harsh glare, she looked up.
The woman’s muscular arms were folded across her chest. But
Shera-Mar’s eyes focused on the red sash tied at her waist, the
insignia of a warrior in the Royal Topazian Legion. The woman
stared at her, not unkindly, but curiously. Shera-Mar gasped as her
eyes then focused on the woman’s gold headband, which identified
her as no less than a Quatra of the Legion.
Shera-Mar scrambled to her feet, pushing the long red locks of
hair from her dirty face. She stared open-mouthed at the quatra,
knowing that her father was not going to be pleased.
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427
“I suppose they must be yours,” the quatra said with a
suppressed smile, looking at Shera-Mar’s bare feet while pointing at
the small brown sandals lying against the stone wall. Shera-Mar’s
head turned to glance at her sandals and nodded as an admission of
guilt. “Well, you’d better run along and put them on,” the quatra told
her, her face now quite stern.
Shera-Mar nodded obediently and hurried over to grab the
sandals and put them on. She was going to be in so much trouble
with her father, and she silently cursed Skel for leaving her. She
looked down at her feet and realised that in her haste she’d put
them on the wrong feet.
“Now,” the quatra said, placing her hands on her hips as the
sun’s rays reflected off the gold headband, “what were you and your
accomplice doing?” The quatra glanced in the direction of where
Skel had scarpered.
Shera-Mar’s mouth moved, but no words came out. Only the
lecture she was going to get from her father was going around and
around her head.
The quatra looked thoughtful, only her eyes giving away her
amusement. “Well, I certainly hope that you are not spies for the
Analay’Sai Kingdom.”
Shera-Mar looked aghast. “No, no!” she exclaimed, finding her
tongue. “We were just”—she paused, thinking that she didn’t want
to get Skel into any more trouble—“I mean, I just wanted to see the
new recruits training. I’ve been writing about the adventures of the
legion in school, and thought I could write something about how
they trained, too.”
The quatra looked at Shera-Mar and nodded, as if what she had
said was perfectly plausible. “You do know that this area is out of
bounds for little ones? Even a citizen risks the lash if they are caught
around here. You do know there are Analay’Sai spies everywhere?”
“Yes, yes!” Shera-Mar now exclaimed. “My father tells me
everything! He’s a member of the Tarshish and tells me all sorts of
stories.” The quatra’s eyebrows rise in surprise.
“Really?” the quatra said, folding her arms across her chest once
more. “I think we may need to have a word with your father.”
Shera-Mar looked mortified as she realised that her mouth had
just got her deeper into trouble, a trait that she also shared with her
father.
“But now that you are here,” the quatra said, giving her a broad
smile, unable to tease her any longer, “how about I give you a tour of
the training ground?”
“Really?” Shera-Mar asked incredulously.
“Really,” the quatra answered with another smile.
“That would be wonderful!” Shera-Mar exclaimed and hurriedly
pulled off her sandals to place them onto the right feet.
“What is your name?” the quatra asked, kneeling down to look
into the little girl’s determined face and fiery eyes. “And what is
your father’s name?”
“I’m Shera-Mar,” she replied proudly, standing straight. “My
father is Ca’leb.”
“Of course!” the quatra exclaimed, seeing a resemblance. “I
know your father well. He is a good man.”
“Yes he is,” Shera-Mar agreed simply.
“So, do you know who I am?” the quatra asked.
Shera-Mar beamed. “You are the quatra!” she exclaimed
excitedly, as if it was the highest office in the land.
The quatra nodded. “Yes,” she acknowledged, gently pressing
her finger on this bold girl’s button nose. “But you can call me
Starzia, because I think we are going to be good friends.”
“That would be wonderful!” Shera-Mar exclaimed again. But
then her face turned sad. “Am I going to be in trouble with my
father?”
Starzia repressed a smile. “Well, I think we can say to your
father that I agreed to you visit,” she said with a wink.
“Thank you, Starzia,” Shera-Mar replied, sounding much older
than her tender years.
Starzia stood up and pulled off her gold headband. She pushed it
across the top of Shera-Mar’s head, hoping it would not fall off.
Shera-Mar beamed, touching the headband proudly before
taking Starzia’s offered hand. They walked towards the entrance of
the training grounds as sutra-guards watched curiously.
“I’m going to be the quatra one sun!” Shera-Mar exclaimed,
pushing the gold headband back onto her head as it slid down.
Starzia looked down at the determined little girl and smiled.
“Yes, I’m sure you will be, Shera-Mar,” she agreed. “I’m sure you will
be.
