Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) Read online

  She just finished a successful practice duel with a boy from her group, but it surprised her when Solomon declared his decision in front of the panel. Slaves hardly ever got chosen for private training before their fifteenth year. Besides, Arianna thought it obvious that her dueling partner had let her win. After all, Liam always took it easy on her.

  As soon as the question spilled from her mouth, she regretted it. A hooded regulator hovered over her with his hand raised, ready to strike. Before his palm could reach the skin on her face, her reflexes took over, another thing she would soon regret. She jumped up and side-stepped his hand. The regulator faltered under her maneuver and tripped sideways. Her twelfth-year peers gasped at the scene, and her face paled in horror.

  More regulators closed in to drag her away, and sweat beaded on her forehead as they clutched at her arms. Before they could remove her, Solomon Bell raised his hand in an order of halt. The regulators gave their distance to Arianna, and she fell to her knees in shame and relief.

  “Let her be,” commanded the master swordsman. “She has made only a small offense. It’s nothing to get excited about. Besides, I will enjoy teaching her the hard lesson of respect in training tomorrow.” Arianna lowered her head, afraid to look him in the eyes for fear they would match the threat in his voice.

  “Please, forgive my offense. I meant no disrespect, Sir,” she said in a small, shaky sound. Her eyes studied the ground.

  “Look at me when you speak, girl,” he said in a menacing tenor, so she lifted her head in obedience.

  There was no hint of anger on his face like she anticipated. His eyes gave her a strange sense of reassurance and warmth. He strode down the stone steps from the evaluators’ stand, and, for a moment, Arianna thought him a king. His white, velvet cloak sparkled in the daylight; rubicund silk trimmed the edges and lined the inside. On the back, embroidered in the same shiny thread, the crest of the district completed his regal appearance. He lifted her to her feet by the elbow and whispered something in her ear.

  His words were quite unexpected and ones that she would never forget. “I chose you because you’re worth choosing,” he said. Immediately tears began to well in her eyes. She had never been worth anything to anyone in her life. “You are dismissed. Your lessons begin at dawn,” he said with finality.

  “Solomon, friend, it pains me that you worry so much. You know you’ve taught me well.” She sprung forward again. “You get so angry when only my mind has faltered, yet not the blade in hand.” She smiled. “Am I not match enough without adding my intellect to the battle?” Solomon stopped attacking, his black skin glimmering with sweat.

  Swords swinging at her side, her eyes steadied on her trainer. She tried to look brave, but he intimidated her. Could he tell? Although somewhat humbled by the bad knee gained during his time serving the King, his skill never faltered. He cleared Arianna by a full shaved head, so she looked up to meet his gaze.

  He could pass for forty, but his eyes gave him away. In Olleb-Yelfra, people could live a very long time. No slave knew the age of any of the elders that ran the district. Why, even King Devlindor had just celebrated his third century, and his portraits still looked youthful. For all she knew, Solomon could be one hundred and fifty. He claimed twenty-nine, but Arianna knew better. His wisdom far outreached such a small number.

  His dark eyes trained on her, calculating her next move. “If you were any match at all, dear girl, I might actually make an effort,” he said. “I would return us to the wooden blade for fear you might cut out my heart.” He returned her smile, and she paled. “But, alas, you’re neither match nor worthy opponent for an old cripple like me.”

  With no time to react to the sudden whip of his sword and rapid maneuver of his leg, bad or not, Arianna lay flat on her back once again. All traces of humor left her face as Solomon looked down upon her. His sword scratched at the fabric above her heart, and Arianna sucked in her chest.

  “Let me up you old fool!” she said. “Will you never give me credit for my skill?” She felt the heat rising in her face, her hands shaking.

  “I’ll give you credit for your skill once you win a battle over me.” He walked to the bench on the far side of the room and sat down. A barrel of weapons stood by his side, and he switched his sword for an axe.

  “I’m a warrior! I’m tired of these games,” she said. “What more could you want me to prove?” She looked away, balling her hands into fists.

  “Arianna Belvedor: a skilled slave of Warrior’s District.” He spoke slowly as if talking to a child. “Perhaps you are the most talented, disciplined fighter of all the children whom train within the city. But that is all you are and all you fight… children,” said Solomon, a fire growing in his eyes. He cupped her chin in his hand, demanding her gaze. His calloused palm felt rough on her skin, and she could see dark scars on his fingertips. “If you want to live longer than a day as a citizen of the Olleb, then you must learn to think outside of this childhood.”

  Arianna tried to pull away from his firm grasp, but he continued. “Master, I’m not a ch—” She stuttered as his voice drowned out her words.

  “Your eighteenth year is upon you. You must be prepared! Beyond these mountains is a land more vast and dangerous than you could possibly imagine. These dangers will not stop the tip of their swords at the nape of your neck. They will drive it through your skin until your blood stains their hands and your life leaves your eyes. They’ll show no mercy to a young woman who hasn’t had the chance to learn the trickery of the world, and that’s why I push you so hard!” He let go, staring her straight in the eyes. “You’re no warrior yet.”

  Arianna flinched at the harshness of his words. They painted a vivid picture. From the life she knew, she didn’t expect the outside world to be much different, but still… she hoped.

  “Master, I know all this,” she said in a small voice. This wasn’t the first time she heard this speech.

  Solomon scowled. “You know nothing! You’ve won many battles over your matched opponents but never killed more than a beetle under your feet. Heed my warning, child. You may be granted freedom for the skill you show in practice, but can you live long enough to enjoy it?” She hoped so. “The land beyond here, which you call freedom, is no kinder place than this children’s nightmare you’re locked in. It will demand the skill of both your body and mind if you’re to survive its battles.”

  Arianna could not help but feel weak and small in his presence as he turned his back on her. She stood frozen, his voice ringing in her ears.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a gentle voice. She stored his words in her heart for she knew her master truly wished for her survival. She trained hard for him, even if she didn’t know her destiny yet. Not knowing what else to say, she picked up a single sword and steadied it in his direction. Besides, he called for action, not words, and this she could deliver with spirit.

  Solomon turned to face her, taking her in. He let a familiar smile flitter across his lips. Before him stood the same young girl he first looked upon five years earlier, yet somehow she’d grown. Her short, chocolate curls now grew past her chest, and she tied them to the side at her neck. Her thin arms and legs were now lithely muscular after so much practice. Even her boyish features had curved and smoothed into an attractive young woman. Not quite, but almost there… almost a warrior. She looked fierce, her sword hand steady as a rock.

  “What I want is for you to show me what you’ve learned from all these years of practice,” said Solomon. He raised the axe, gripping tightly on the hilt. He matched her stance and beckoned for her to attack. “Show me that you’re a child no longer, and I’ll show you a warrior’s respect.”

  Arianna gave a smirk and nodded at his challenge. With that, they lunged forward, the explosion of metal deafening and sweet to their ears.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A UTOPIA

  “Arianna, can you hear me? For bloody sakes open your eyes, girl!” The voice seemed familiar, but it sounded muffle
d and distant like someone speaking to her through glass. Am I underwater? Someone tried to reach to her from the surface.

  She sprung her eyes open to analyze the situation but saw nothing more than the vast expanse of the cerulean sea around her. Yes, it was water or some sort of blue liquid. It encased her naked body and entangled her long, wild hair. It felt peaceful, warm even. Though, the calm made her feel alone.

  Is this freedom… death maybe? She couldn’t decide. In comparison to her caged life as a warrior-slave, she couldn’t help but think that maybe it might be better to just stay there in the depth of nothingness.

  She did stay. She floated for what seemed like hours, making no attempt to leave. As she waded through the liquid blue, she noticed the faintest of lights in the distance, so faint she wasn’t sure if it really existed. Then again, she wasn’t quite sure if she existed. As the nimble glow grew brighter, she couldn’t resist the temptation to find out where it came from and what it was.

  She swam, following the trail of golden glitter. Deeper she went until the liquid turned to a dark sapphire. Familiar chills started to creep under her skin and curl around her body. Still, she swam deeper. To her shock, the trail vanished before her eyes and left her with only darkness as a companion.

  “Arianna, come back!” The voice boomed in her ears, rippling the liquid about her skin. She felt her body reverberate like a shock of lightening burning straight through her bones, and she began to choke on the watery blackness. It poured into her lungs and burned her eyes and throat. She tried to scream for help, but her voice came in the form of bubbles as the liquid filled her body. No use to struggle. She just let go and closed her burning eyes, leaving the nothingness behind.

  “There’s my girl. Good as new, aren’t ya?” Arianna blinked open her eyes to find Solomon hovering over her looking relieved.

  She felt miserable. Pale lavender walls stung her eyes as she studied the room around her. A large cabinet situated in the corner and a couple of chairs lined the wall to her left. On the other side, she saw a small stove. Arianna recognized it as her Well Room connected to the sparring area. Shifting her eyes, she saw Solomon leaning over her with his hands on his hips. A triumphant smile formed on his face.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I won…” Of course he did. “But you sure did put up a Hell of a fight!” He patted her head, and she grimaced.

  “Surprise, surprise.” She raised her hand to her pounding head. To her horror, she felt a large lump growing above her eye.

  “You were out for a while this time, Ara. It’s nearly nightfall.”

  “Yeah, well I suppose after the hundredth concussion, I might stop waking up as fast. You’re lucky I even came back this time. I almost decided not to.” She smiled to hide the truth of her words.

  “Arianna, I’m not at all worried about your physical health, although maybe I will stop going for the head if I want you to remember anything I’ve ever taught you,” he said.

  Arianna almost chuckled, but it hurt too much to laugh.

  “To be quite honest, it’s your mental health that bothers me.” His tone grew serious, and Arianna knew he wanted to lecture her again. “I know you’ve been having strange dreams. I heard you just now, mumbling in your sleep.” He paused, lost in thought as a wry smile twisted on his face.

  “Solomon, why do you worry so much, really? It was just a dream. Lighten up.”

  “Never take a dream lightly,” he said, wagging his finger. “A mind is a mystery to both man and magic. Therefore, it must be respected.”

  Arianna’s eyes widened as the word ‘magic’ rolled off his tongue. The King forbade anyone, citizen or slave, to delve in fairytales such as these. Severe punishment answered to those caught with an imagination outside the law. “Master… what do you mean? That word is forb—” She tried to speak, but Solomon paid no mind, continuing his sermon.

  “Our minds are what make us unique,” he said. “It’s why we choose the paths that we do. Your mind knows more about you than you do yourself, and it holds the key to your past, present, and future. If you respect that, then you can open up doors you never deemed possible.”

  Arianna tried to speak up again, “But you said mag—” Solomon held his finger to her lips, and she swallowed her words once again.

  “Ara, listen to me,” he said. “Your mind never sleeps and that is why you dream. If you pay more attention to both worlds, rather than just the physical one, you may be in for a surprise.” Reassured that he answered all of her questions he relaxed in a nearby chair, sipping at a cup of tea.

  His words of wisdom always left Arianna dizzy, and sometimes she wondered where they came from. “Master Bell, your insight is very… refreshing,” she said with a sincere smile.

  “Good,” he said, returning her grin.

  “Well, if my mind really is giving me a vivid glimpse into my soul, then please stop giving me such terrible whippings. One of these days I’m going to stop working,” said Arianna, massaging her temples.

  “You’re probably right.” He threw his head back in laughter, startling Arianna into a fit of giggles.

  Lowering her voice to a whisper, she was determined to ask the question burning on her tongue. “Now, what is this about mag—?”

  “Welcome back,” said a woman. She waddled into the room and planted a routine kiss on Arianna’s sore head. Arianna pouted at the interruption. “It’s good to see you too,” said the woman, placing her hands on her hips.

  Solomon raised an eyebrow as he surveyed Arianna, and she caught his eye. After a moment he shook his head in warning, as if reading her mind. She decided to save it for another time. Knowing it unwise to divulge such a taboo word from her lips with her caretaker now in the room, she swallowed it for later.

  Caretaker Cyn came as one of the perks of having a private trainer like Solomon Bell. She dressed in long, silver robes that clung to her plump body. Stitched above her chest, a tiny, gold snake ensnared a red heart. As she bent over Arianna, examining her wounds with gloved hands, her hair waved in auburn locks to her shoulders, tickling Arianna’s cheeks. A soft smile spread across her lips at the sensation, and Cyn gave her a wink as she began to daub medicines onto her skin. The gashes burned at the contact, making her wince, but she could already see an improvement. “Ouch, that stings,” she said, clenching her fists.

  “It’s almost over, dear,” said Cyn. Arianna nodded for her to continue as she bit her lip, trying to take her mind off the pain. New pain she just never got accustomed to… no matter how familiar the sting was.

  “Solomon, I’ll not have you banging this girl around anymore. She’ll be dead before the Free Falls if you continue at this rate,” she said as she smeared a sticky green ointment over Arianna’s bruises.

  Arianna tried to suppress her smile, thinking it funny the way she spoke to Solomon Bell like a child.

  He frowned. “Alright, Cyn, I’ll let up a bit. I just want her to be ready for what’s coming.”

  “Well, she won’t be ready if she’s lying in a hospital bed bleeding out the side of her head, now will she?” she said, her shrill voice making them squirm.

  “Humph… I said I’ll lighten up. Now you lighten up, woman!”

  Solomon and Cyn continued like that for another hour until all of her wounds had healed. As they bickered, Arianna peeled away the dried ointment. The bruises vanished to perfection, the aching gone. She swung her feet to the floor, stretching her muscles. Under Cyn’s scrutiny, Solomon gave her the rest of the night free, so she had a couple of hours to kill before curfew. Pulling on her cloak, she rushed out of the Well Room. It was wishful thinking that Solomon would ease up on her training, and she knew she’d be back there soon enough.

  Having unscheduled breaks in her day didn’t happen very often, so she planned to take full advantage of it tonight. Deciding to head to her favorite spot in the city, she walked out of the sparring room. Standing in the Dueling Arena, a huge, open area covered with a
dirt floor spread out before her, and the smell of sweat filled her nose.

  Red-bricked walls rose high above her head, encircling the entire place, and lanterns glued to the walls. They flickered in the subtle wind, giving the space a soft glow under the clouded night. Behind Arianna, about sixty doors lined a wall that led to other private sparring rooms much like her own.

  As she walked away from the rooms and towards the barred gate on the far side of the arena, she passed many people in group training sessions. Masters yelled commands at the top of their lungs, and she could hear the battle cries and grunts of those dueling. Some slaves conducted drills and ran laps around the grounds; others battled with a myriad of weapons. They wielded swords, axes, flails, daggers, and bows, some using only their fists. Slaves of all ages littered the arena. They lay wounded, dead or fighting, just another day in the district.

  Arianna pushed open the tall gate. Her skin shivered as her fingers touched the cool steel, so she pulled on her leather gloves and slipped out. The Warrior’s District wound like a giant serpent that coiled into itself, the path to the right leading to the Square. She turned towards the left.

  Walking towards the west side of the city, Arianna passed the Well Center, which looked like a warped sphere pressed into the ground. She saw caretakers, like Cyn, running in and out of the graying-lilac building, caring for the injured. Further up the road she passed the Dining Hall, a long, rectangular structure made of a dull stone. The food they served there replicated the same lifeless color as its exterior, and Arianna scrunched up her nose as the scent of mush filled the air.

  She strode past more rundown buildings towards the edge of the city, and she walked by the underpass of the mountains. As they loomed above her, she lifted her eyes to their snow-topped peaks. Rumors declared it a dead man’s journey to try and trek over Blancoren, so people always went under.