Tested (The Life of Uktesh Book 1) Read online

  Birth page 2

  Uktesh: A Fight for Survival page 4

  Manori: A Simple Village page 21

  Rabbits Make Terrible Pets page 49

  The Pursuit of Money page 69

  Heathyr’s Story page 118

  Tournament of Murderers page 140

  Day One page 192

  Day Two page 227

  Final Day page 250

  Aftermath page 273

  Jubay page 302

  Isle de Tramonto page 322

  Beginning page 341

  Glossary of terms page 342

  Birth

  An uneasy truce existed between the Rauldary and the Beletarians, and for one hundred years it held. The jealousy the Rauldarians, however, had carried on for a century and had grown now that they knew the luxury of living on a land so plentiful in planting fields and wild animals. Thus on the anniversary of the truce, during the Time of Affliction, when strange beasts began to roam the land, the Rauldary found an ally, the Afflicted Necrolans, led by a group of death mages called the Voukidists. Once again they attacked and found that the Beletarians, superior in skill were now also superior in numbers. Even with the new allies, they only numbered about half of the Beletarians.

  Victory seemed assured for the Beletarians. However, when the fight started, the Beletarians and the Rauldary found to their horror that the dead from both lands turned and fought for the Necrolans. It was discovered that the only way to kill a Necrolan was to burn it because they didn’t die when mortally wounded. Severed limbs would continue to move and warriors with severed heads would continue fighting. A liquid that burns was given unto the Beletarians, some say by the gods, some say it was the tears of the Afflicted queen Adir, and at the same time a group of elite fighters, called the Beleshians, killed the Voukidists, ending the war instantly. The Rauldary tried to make a truce with their victors, but the Beletarians could still feel the sting of the Rauldary betrayal, and to the Rauldary people a choice was given, to be put to the sword, or to yield their lands and join the nation of Beletar. Thus it came to be that the Beletarians incorporated them into their land.

  Nearly forty years later, a baby was born. He was the descendant of Edih, the first to master the sword, and Elah, the first to master the bow. His father, a warrior of great esteem, one who had hunted the great cats of the plains, the giant insects of the Endevar hive, and had slayed the great drake was named Ekir, drake slayer. His mother a huntress who in her own right rivaled even the great Edih, Bela, died giving birth to him. The father in his grief dedicated his son unto Belesh the Formorian god of war, known as the god of the sword and Uketar the Chassian god of war, known as the god of the bow. So the father named his son Uktesh and branded the symbols of both gods on his wrists. This is where the tale of Uktesh begins.

  {From The Life of Uktesh Marrion - 55 RA – Rise of the Afflicted}

  Uktesh: A Fight for Survival

  “Run away you coward, it doesn’t look like either Uketar or Belesh blessed you!” screamed Belial.

  As he watched Beltin run, Uktesh knew that Belial was wrong, sometimes the bravest thing to do is to try when you know you would fail; at fifteen years old Uktesh was average height, at only five feet, average build, and the best fighter in his age class, and most of the other classes of warriors. He had just fought in another training match with Belario, the only person who was even close to being as good at forms as he was, and therefore the only person the teachers deemed good enough to fight Uktesh. Belario, who was taller than Uktesh by eight inches, was not his match though, and he enjoyed hurting people, every chance that he got, whether in the sparring ring, or just walking home. Uktesh only enjoyed hurting one type of person: bullies.

  Uktesh trained in everything that the Beletarians knew how to teach, and that was saying something. He knew all the forms of the sword, spear, axe, mace, flail, staff, halberd, and knife. He knew perfectly how to use one in each hand and how to perfectly interchange them, but knowing the forms and being able to fight with them were to different things. The truth that Uktesh had to admit to himself was that he was god touched, and it scared him. A popular saying among Beletarians was that it was better to live in times of peace, than interesting times, but doubly more so than becoming an interest of the gods.

  His teachers raved that he was the best they’d ever seen practicing the forms. The only thing that Uktesh was better at than melee combat was the bow and arrow and he was the youngest master in that. He slapped Belial in the back of his head and said, “Don’t pick on him, he’s still learning, and in two years, he’ll be a warrior.”

  Belial laughed and said, “I’m training him to be as good as me.”

  Uktesh raised an eyebrow and asked, “You want him to be that bad?”

  “Third best is better than wherever he’s ranked.”

  “Fifth,” Uktesh replied with steel in his voice.

  Belial swallowed, “Wow, I didn’t know there was that big a gap.”

  “You, Belario, and me, we’re all working in imperfect form, everyone else is still back in balanced, and some in our age group struggle to stay in balanced.”

  “Then we’ll need to beat up on them some more until they learn the forms!”

  “Agreed,” said the silky smooth voice behind Uktesh, and he felt hands reach around him and start to roam over his chest.

  He quickly disengaged from Essra, and said, “Stop Essra.”

  “Someday you’ll be mine,” she tossed her long jet black hair over her shoulder and walked away.

  “Wow, she wants you. Don’t you like her? She’s damned hot.”

  “Nah, plus she’s with Belario,” Uktesh said.

  “You know that she’d drop him for you in a second.”

  “Yeah, and maybe that’s why I’m not interested.”

  “You’re in trouble though, I heard for your test they’re going to have you fight one of the masters.”

  “What!” He felt his cheeks get hot when his voice came out a squeak, “where’d you hear that?”

  “Now who’s acting cowardly?”

  “Cowardly?” Uktesh asked as his heart began to beat back to a normal rate, and he brought his voice back under control, “That was excitement.”

  “Excitement young man,” said Grand Master Uktan. Uktesh turned to see the tiny old man who was more dangerous than anyone else in the village. He was stooped with old age, he’d gone mostly bald, and seemed to be made of winkles, but his eyes still held a fire in them. “Perhaps fighting a master is the type of excitement you will benefit from.”

  “Grand Master, I didn’t mean to show any disrespect-”

  “But, unfortunately you have child, I believe that Uketess will be an eye opening fight.”

  “But,” Uktesh stuttered, “I can’t fight a girl!”

  “I believe that in this case you’re right, you will be vastly outclassed.”

  “But she’s a Beleshian!” The Grand Master just looked at him and Uktesh knew it was better to agree than to argue with Uktan so he bowed his head and said, “Yes Grand Master.”

  As he walked away Belial laughed and threw his arm around Uktesh, “You’re going to be beaten silly by her. She’s second best only to the Grand Master.”

  They started to walk past the second year class that was attempting the unarmed balanced form Colt Springs into the Air, and mostly failing. “I know.”

  “She’s beaten your dad.”

  “I know,” Uktesh replied tightly.

  “If you beat her before you’re done with training it’ll reflect badly on anyone she’s ever beaten.

  “I know.”

  “That doesn’t matter though, because you know you have no chanc
e of winning, and she’s going to be out for your embarrassment.”

  “I know!” Uktesh shouted.

  Belial quickly backed away, “Whoa, sorry,” they stood in silence for a moment, “I didn’t think you got angry.”

  “I am human.”

  “Good to know. So seriously what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to fight with the courage of Beltin.”

  “You’re going to run away crying.”

  Uktesh realized that his analogy would only be a compliment if someone could read his mind, “No I’m going to fight someone I know is better than me, who I know is going to try to embarrass me, like someone else. I know.”

  “I wasn’t trying to embarrass him,” Belial said quietly.

  Uktesh looked at Belial and said in his best Grand Master impression, “Yet it seems that was the outcome, child.”

  “Yeah, well I’ve got a test tomorrow too you know, and with you out, I’m probably fighting Belario,” he sighed heavily, “I guess we’ll both be bruised. See you tomorrow.”

  “Bye,” Uktesh said, and walked towards his home following the familiar path from the training yard to his house. He couldn’t remember a time that he’d been so angry at himself, How could I not notice the Grand Master enough to watch my tongue, and now I can’t win. He slammed into his fathers’ hand crafted door that had been made specifically for this home as a wedding present to his wife and ran to his room where he jumped on his bed.

  After a while he heard his fathers’ footsteps as he came into his room and felt his father put his hand on his shoulder, “Son I know that you’re so very disappointed that you are not going to shine tomorrow the way you might want to. I want you to know that no matter what you are and no matter what you do, I will always love you, because you’re my son and that’s enough for me. There will come a time when you feel that I’m lying, it might be today, it may have been the last time I told you that, or the time before that, but don’t believe your feelings, they will lie to you.”

  “I love you and, Uketar, he took a hold of you, and I haven’t seen a better archer than you at any age in a long time. But Belesh,” he paused, “well, you’re going to have to wait a little bit longer before you shine in the eyes of the people there. With faith I know he’ll show you the path of a complete warrior.”

  “Why do we even practice? It’s not like anyone is stupid enough to attack us.”

  “Don’t pout at me boy, you know the first reason is to remain vigilant for the return of the Voukidists. The second is if we didn’t practice, if we didn’t have a powerful army, people would be much more willing to fight us.”

  “Like who? We’re surrounded by four countries; Croatoa, Arme, Ganger, and Sinia. If they combined their armies, they still wouldn’t have as many as we do.”

  “I’m sorry son, but that is who we are. We are warriors.” Ekir walked out of Uktesh’s room and over to the wall where he took down his sword and flipped it through a few series of moves. “Son, I have never had to use this on anyone, and by your namesakes, I pray that you will not have to either. But if you do I want you to know the best sword I have ever seen will be with you when you do.”

  He placed the sword in Uktesh’s hands and gently folded his hands around it. “Now, you know the noble lineage of those who used this sword, the sword of the First, a gift given to the first boy and girl to be born Beletarians and passed down from eldest son or daughter until it came to me. You know that this weapon carries with it a great responsibility to the men and women that were responsible for fighting to save this land. You also know that to use this sword places that responsibility on the user, until they give the sword to their son or daughter. That responsibility that I possessed I now pass on to you, I want you to use this sword in your trial tomorrow, so that you will be able to pass it with as high a standing as you can.

  “Thank you Dad!” Uktesh held the blade, he watched the lights play off the lines of the sword. He brought it closer and tried to memorize every facet of the sword, until his nose was touching the surface of the blade. Suddenly as he held this sword, the sword of his ancestors he felt that he would be able to conquer his fears and fight a fight that would be spoken of for years to come. He imagined the shock, awe, and fear his classmates would have of the first student to fight and beat his teacher. They would never again make fun of him, not with this blade in this hand.

  “I think you like it.”

  “Like it, Dad? I love it, can I go practice with it?”

  “Of course. It’s yours now. Just don’t stay out too late you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

  Uktesh ran out of the house and hastily tried to buckle the sword over is his shoulder, but while he ran he had a hard time of it. Dimly in the corner of his eye, to his right, he saw shadows that were running into the village. As he crashed through the woods and as he continued to try to situate the sword across his back, he continued to get it caught on his belt knife and his foot kicked out and snagged a hidden root. He tumbled to the ground he twisted to avoid hurting his ankle and landed flat on his back. He rolled his eyes in derision at his clumsiness and after he took a deep breath he jerked the strap in front of himself and buckled the sword in place.

  As he lay there sprawled on his back, sword now safely secured, he heard other sounds as more people crashed through the forest. Belial you won’t catch me, I was wise enough to strategically dive to find cover. He smiled and nodded to himself and found that he was happy now that he at least had a plausible reason for the fall. He tried to sit up, but the sword on his back would not allow him to get up, so he rolled on his stomach and with a half-grunt, half-moan he pushed himself to his feet, and checked his ankle to make sure he was really ok.

  After that Uktesh walked the rest of the way into the forest, until he found his favorite practice area. It was an open clearing in the trees that was nearly a perfect circle, where day or night it seemed to have a light of its own. He’d come to this place most of his life to practice, to imagine fighting off hordes of enemies, and to daydream about the day he would finally put his sword on the masters’ table.

  This was also the place where Uktesh practiced his archery, he had long since learned to hide his bow in the hidden roots of one of the trees that created the circle. It was completely dry and even in the rain it never got worse than moist. Uktesh walked into the circle, removed his shirt, grabbed the sword hilt, set his feet, and in one fluid motion flicked it out of its sheath so that it was pointed at his imaginary enemy. He was proud that it only wavered slightly. Then slowly he moved through the forms. He stayed in balanced form for a while as he knew that it was the most used form.

  He thought back on what his instructors had told him, Uktesh of the three forms balanced is the most widely used, and most often used even by those who can use the higher forms. This is the best form for the four most important elements in sword fighting: block, parry, evade, and strike. You’ll notice that three of the four are all about protecting yourself. That’s because we care, much more about you living than killing, that’s why everyone, male or female, is required to learn.

  You’ve already started to master imperfect form, and have begun to dabble in perfect form. You should’ve noticed by now that the imperfect form has several flaws. That is because it is for attack only. Only from imperfect can you move up to attack or defend in the perfect form. In the perfect form you only have one move attack or defend before you must go back to balanced form, or else you’ll hurt yourself. Perfect form puts so much strain on the body, as does imperfect form, that most people only attack once in imperfect, and then only once in perfect before moving back to balanced.

  I have heard of masters who can stay in imperfect form, for great periods of time, but no one has ever tried that in perfect form. I have heard of one man who was able to block and attack in perfect, but then he dislocated both of his arms and was killed before he could retreat and be fixed. Those who have mastered the perfect form claim that they c
an feel a fourth form, or not even form, but strike. A god like strike that is impossible to block. Uktesh thought about that as he moved from balanced, into imperfect form, he smoothly flowed from one to the other, and then tried a perfect form slice, cut, or block.

  Each time he could tell that he was close to the correct form of perfect, but slightly off, and after each try he reverted back to balanced so that he would not hurt himself. He moved faster and faster through the forms, back and forth across the clearing. In his mind he fought and defeated countless enemies, he saved the princess and killed a whole group of Voukidists and their undead minions.

  In his mind his sword split the Voukidist leaders’ skull in imperfect, he spun through the air, and kicked the body in perfect form, and sent it flying off the tower rooftop. He panted hard, as he tried to catch his breath, and he realized that the last perfect form kick had been just that! I did it! I performed a perfect move without any wobble, without being out of form, and it just flowed from me. If I can do that tomorrow, I might have a chance through surprise.

  He put his foot on the grass and felt the muscles of his leg contract, and tighten into a cramp. He was quick, but ginger as he stretched out his calf and foot until the tightness went away. He was sorely tempted to see if he could do it again, cramped or not, but instead he remembered the test tomorrow. He had started to move through the cool down exercises, when he noticed a man with a hard face and dangerous eyes at the edge of his clearing, Uktesh glanced quickly with his eyes and he noticed that he was surrounded.

  “Boy I have with me twelve of the most vicious, dangerous, and violent men I could find. Also the craziest. Who but the craziest would dare attack the Beletarians. While I’m pretty sure this is a mistake, I’m going to let you live. Now don’t get me wrong if we attacked, you would certainly kill some of us. But you’d have no chance at killing all of us. I’ll let you live only if you promise to leave and never go back to your village. What say you?”

  Uktesh felt himself grow cold, he looked around and wished that he had his bow with him, instead of in its hidden spot. As casually as he could, as his heart hammered in his chest, he took the hint from the man, and formally asked, “I would know the name of the man who forces me from my home.”