sword, but Senke would have none of it. His student would learn to control his instincts, otherwise they would control him. Again and again the sword cracked against his shoulders, his head, and his hands. Whenever he tried to raise his sword, Senke’s other blade would shoot out, parry it away, and then slap him across the face.
Aaron rubbed his shoulder, part of him wanting to ask a servant to massage it for him. But massages meant pain, and pain meant failure, at least when it came to training with Senke. So he put it out of his mind as best he could, wiped more sweat from his face onto his sleeve, and stepped into Robert Haern’s room.
The furnishings were few but expensive. The chairs were padded and comfortable, the walls painted a soft red, and the carpet a luxurious green. Robert sat on the bed, piles of books on either side of him. Aaron wondered how he could possibly sleep on it, then wondered if the old men even slept in the first place.
“You’re here,” Robert said, smiling when he looked up. “I had begun to worry that Senke would knock all reason and wisdom out of you.”
“My ears are clogged,” Aaron said. “The wisdom stays in.”
The old man chuckled.
“Good for you, then. Sit. We have old matters to attend to.”
Aaron sat down, wondering what he could mean. Over the past week Robert had gone to great lengths describing the various guilds and their guildmasters. This went beyond recent times and into the past, beating into Aaron’s head why their colors were what they were, why each symbol had been chosen, what they looked like, how they were drawn, and every other possible fact that seemed totally irrelevant. No matter how obscure, Robert would frown deeply and reprimand whenever Aaron missed an answer.
“In the darkness I might have taken away a light,” Robert said. “But here I have nothing to take from you, so instead I do this; for every error you make, I will treat you like a child. I will tell you tales instead of truth. I will dismiss your questions like foolish inquiry, instead discussing matters that only a boy would be interested in.”
The threat had worked.
“What old matters?” Aaron asked as he sat cross-legged on the carpet.
“Do you remember that first day? I was to have an answer from you, but since forgot after my…brief stay in the dungeons. I asked you why the Trifect would declare war on your father after he had built up an alliance of guilds over the course of three years. Do you have an answer?”
Aaron had not given the matter much thought. He went with his initial guess, hoping it would be right. Robert always insisted that he would know the answer to all questions he asked, yet no other answer seemed to pop out at him.
“Thren became too powerful,” Aaron said. “He was stealing too much gold, so the Trifect forced this war with him and the guilds.”
Robert chuckled.
“A child’s answer,” he said. “Coupled with a child’s trust in his father. You couldn’t be more wrong, boy. Perhaps we should read the story about Parson and the Lion instead of discussing such adult matters.”
“Wait,” Aaron said, his voice rising above a whisper. Robert noticed this and was pleased.
“Do you have a better answer?” he asked. “Do you know why your first one is wrong?”
Aaron’s mind raced. He had to know. Anything was better than the fairy tales.
“Thren didn’t grow too strong,” he ventured, each sentence coming out as if stepping on ice to test its strength. “If he had, then the Trifect wouldn’t have openly opposed him. The Trifect weighs all options, and this war has cost them greatly. Thren would not have stolen as much in ten years as they have spent in the past five.”
“Now you’re making sense,” Robert said. “The Trifect does not take on strong foes. They weaken them, poison their insides and rot their hearts. Once their target is desperate and fearful, then they strike.”
“But the Trifect forced this war,” Aaron said. He rubbed his thumbs together, as if trying to coax the truth out from an invisible coin. “But clearly Thren was not weak. He was still getting stronger. The Trifect acted outside their normal behavior.”
“Did they really? You say Thren was clearly not weak. How do you know?”
Aaron paused, and his head leaned back a little as if he had smelled a bad smell.