The Paladin Saga - Book One: A Paladin's Training

Chapter Four: Elves

© Antidarius

CHAPTER FOUR: Elves

***ARAN – One Year Ago, Emerin Forest Chapel***

Aran's eyes shot open as his bedroom door slammed against the stone wall. Outside, the window showed a violet sky dotted with myriad stars; it was not yet dawn.

"Up!" Elaina roared. She was planted in the doorway, dressed in a simple coat and breeches with knee-high leather boots.

Aran's covers flew off as he leapt out of bed, his heart racing. What was happening? Was there some emergency? He even forgot to cover his privates with his hands. "What is it?" He asked frantically. "What's wrong?"

"You're training has begun!" She barked, her emerald eyes boring into him like augurs.

This was a different woman to the one he'd met yesterday, surely. Where was the feminine goddess that had entertained him with dinner and stories last evening?

"Get dressed and meet me in the practice yard," Elaina ordered. "Your lessons begin immediately." At that, she strode off down the hallway, her boot heels echoing on the stone floor.

Catching his breath, Aran stood frozen for a moment, wondering what in the world was happening, when a sharp, "NOW!" from Elaina launched him into action. Pulling his clothes on as fast as he could, he hurried downstairs, hoping he could find the practice yard quickly enough.

*

The first day had been something out of a nightmare. Elaina had worked him to exhaustion in just the first half-hour of teaching him how to swing a club. By sunrise, he'd been unable to lift his shield-arm to defend himself, let alone hold off Elaina's constant attacks. She'd punished every mistake he'd made, and he'd made plenty; he was a mass of bruises and aches and pains.

That was just the early morning. By mid-morning, Elaina had marched an already bone-weary Aran off into the woods to teach him to hunt. He'd been extremely unsuccessful, barely able to lift the short bow let alone draw it, and therefore missing every target he'd aimed at. Elaina, however, who looked as if she'd done nothing all morning, despite have worked as hard as Aran in the practice yard, took down a healthy boar, which she said would feed them for many days to come.

Then she'd made Aran drag the dead beast back to the Chapel, and it had taken him the rest of the day to lug the two-hundred-odd-pound carcass barely half a mile back home. Once back at the Chapel, Aran had collapsed face-first to the ground, only to have Elaina's boots appear in front of him, followed by a set of knives rolled up in a leather sleeve.

"Get up," Elaina had demanded quietly. "Pick up the knives, and follow my instructions."

The next few hours had been occupied by Aran learning how to butcher a pig. Nothing was wasted; even the bones were kept for soup in the colder months. Elaina was accustomed to living in a remote area, and knew how to make things last.

Aran had never been this tired in his life. Once finished storing the meat, Elaina had finally told Aran to clean up and head inside. When he went to open the rear door to the Chapel – the one that led out to the practice yard – Elaina barked at him; "not like that! You're covered in blood and offal! Strip down!"

Too tired to care, he'd removed his clothes and staggered inside. When he turned to close the door, his hand froze on the handle. Elaina was following her own advice and stripping off her clothes before coming inside. She was facing the doorway where Aran stood, but she was focused on what she was doing, and not looking his way. Aran's breath caught as she stood up after pulling her boots off and began to work on the buttons of her coat. He knew he shouldn't be watching, and wasn't sure what she would do if she caught him looking, but he was unable to tear his eyes away.