Chương 197: Vaelheall Week

"What is it?" I asked hurriedly as I stepped into Abacus' office.

"What's wrong? Did we make a horrible miscalculation? Are we going to run out of Sceats in a few weeks?"

"You are very quick to doubt, Sir Levi," Abacus said. He sat up straight at his desk, eyes locked on a sheet of parchment on the table.

"It's a wonder you've made it this far if this is how you buckle at the slightest setback." I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Yeah, but no matter how much I doubt, I haven't given up yet. I don't think you can make me give up now. Don't be afraid. Lay it on me. How screwed are we?" Abacus snorted.

"Like I was saying, you are quick to doubt, and for no good reason. No, your calculations here were mostly correct. A few minor inconsistencies, but it is nothing that will ruin you, especially now that your guild secured a payment so soon. Please, close the door and take a seat." I did as I was asked, then set my elbows down on the table, trying to read his report while it lay upside down in front of me.

"So…there's nothing wrong?"

"I wouldn't say that. What concerns me isn't your financial stability. I traced the records of the region's finances, in a bid to see if you had any lingering debts to pay off. I followed the transfer payments and distribution funds that your region had to pay." I raised my eyebrows.

"We don't have debts, do we?"

"Tunmod, in fact, settled most of them with the high taxes. What concerned me is where those sceats were going. Traditionally, in Lord Hinlaw's Domain, the transfer payments go from wealthy regions to poor regions, flattening everything out." I shrugged.

"Alright…I'm not seeing the trouble."

"Economics aside, they were not being sent to poor regions. They were going to Steelshore as the redistribution hub, yes, but there, they disappeared. On the same year they began disappearing, a branch of Subtle Men miraculously appeared in Steelshore. They bought up expensive shoreside land to build an intelligence bureau, and somehow, they still found enough sceats to pay Beneficence Organizational Funds, which I traced to the various branches of cultists that sprang up across the Domain.

Conveniently, at the exact same time."

"Well, we know Tunmod was helping to fund the cultists…" I said.

"And now you know the Subtle Men are involved. Someone far above his head was giving him orders. Whoever Lord Hinlaw is subservient to likely has something to do with the Subtle Men. Be very careful, Sir Levi. They will have lost a large chunk of their funding from your actions, and they won't take that lightly."

"Why haven't they done anything yet?"

"Bold of you to assume they haven't." Abacus tapped the form.

"Just last week, Lord Hinlaw's law preventing criticism of the cults went into effect. His minstrels are already singing in the streets of Steelshore about how terrible you are, about how you're mistreating a valid faith of the Path, and how you aren't fit to be thegn." I hung my head.

"And what about the transfer payments? I assume those have ended?"

"At last, a correct assumption. Lord Ceonwin doesn't levy such payments, so you will not have to worry about paying those."

"I'll keep it in mind," I said.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome, Sir Levi." I was about to stand up, but I paused.

"You don't plan to spread the word—""I wouldn't go assuming anything of you, Sir Levi. I do not care what you do about Lord Hinlaw or the Subtle Men, so long as you don't involve me and don't get me in trouble. Let me keep my separation, and my lips are sealed."

"Thank you." I bowed my head.

"You'll get your potions soon. It's greatly appreciated."

"Potions?"

"I figured I could get you two. Maybe even three, given how much you've done for us." Abacus gaped for a second.

"Sir Levi, that is too—""I help those who help me. Besides, people are less likely to betray me if I treat them well."

"I wouldn't be too confident on that point, sir."

"We'll see." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ~ ~ ~ I wasn't sure what to expect from the next morning—it was the start of Vaelheall Week. But when Lieutenant Owl marched through the barracks earlier than normal, banging the pommel of a sword on his pauldron, it set the tone for the morning well enough. We jumped out of our beds, donned our equipment, then rushed down to our usual meeting places.

The sun had barely risen yet, and the sky was glowing orange—making the trees' yellowing leaves glow golden.

"It begins," Owl said.

"Do not think. Follow instructions, meet the standards. This is not the week to apply reason or logic to any of the coming exercises, and trying to do so will drive you mad. You are simply required to succeed. Do not fail us here." The day began with an obstacle course. We had a time limit to complete it, and it was shorter than it had been in all the previous weeks. No one spoke. We just pushed to reach the end. When I reached the end of the course, I was the first, but Habit and Yesman stayed close behind.

"How are our rankings doing, Lieutenant?" I asked Owl while we waited for the others.

"Yesman is top, again," Owl told me.

"You are second." I sighed. I still hadn't reached the top of the class, after all I'd done? Would I ever.

"Am I doing something…wrong?" I asked.

"That's a question for the Drillmaster," Owl said, glancing up at the top of the outer wall, where the Drillmaster paced along the ramparts. He was watching everything.

"But it's not important right now." That just meant I would have to push even harder. After the obstacle course, we ran a few laps around the castle wall, then ate breakfast. Expecting us to all be unusually hungry this week, they supplemented our meals with extra helpings of regular food, which I eagerly scarfed down. I didn't smell it, and I barely tasted it. I just ate what I could. After breakfast, we continued our conditioning out in the fields.

We ran far out past the standing stones, taking intermittent breaks for pushups and situps, and other varied combat exercises like thrusts and weapon swipes. When we returned, it was lunch time, and just the same, I scarfed down as much as I could. Sure, my stomach felt like it was about to burst now, but after the way it'd been gnawing in the morning, I wanted to fill up on as much as I could. After lunch, we continued. I was hoping for sparring, but they weren't that kind to us.

We descended to the bottom of the artificial pond on the castle grounds, where we carried riftrocks under water, deprived of oxygen for as long as we could last. I was hoping we'd be done, but it was only halfway through the afternoon. It was back out to the fields with us, except this time, we had to chase down a pack of wild slip-boars the castle purposely released.

Even if they weren't as strong as we were, they were better at navigating the hills than us, and their fur slicked into the wind just the right way, turning them into darts. I had to wrangle at least two of them with my bare hands, so that was what I would do. I took Owl's advice: no thinking. Just attacking. Rationality and strategy could come later. I snarled, and sometimes, I pushed myself to run so quickly that I fell to all fours. When I caught a boar, I pounced, dragging it into the mud.

Rain began falling, and the wind turned it into hammers. I didn't register what happened next, but I dragged the beast back to a pen it got released from and set off to collect a second. After that was dinner. We only had fifteen minutes to eat as much as we could before we rushed back out into training. We ran two more loops of an obstacle course, scaled the wall without any ropes or other assistance.

They let us jump as high as we wanted, so I launched off, kicked a few steps up to the top, then jumped over and landed on the other side. Then back. Then back again. On its own, it wasn't difficult. With riftrocks, it became slightly more challenging. Doing it a hundred times in a row made it far worse. We worked late into the evening. Welkinmere and a few of the other white moons rose, and the stars glimmered. Once we completed our courses and our jumps, they made us continue basic tasks within the walls.

It was true, then, that we'd only be getting four hours of sleep a night for the entire week. Near midnight, the Drillmaster signalled for us to stop. He dismissed us and sent us back to our barracks, but I caught him on the way back, as he was turning away.

"Do you have a moment?" I asked.

"What is it, Sir Levi?" he replied.

"I can't hold you for long; you need to catch as much sleep as you can get."

"I finished first in every course today. Yet, for some reason, I'm still in second place." I didn't want to sound whiney, though I knew it probably came across that way, so I added, "If I'm doing something wrong, then—""You are doing nothing wrong." I waited, hoping for a reply. Nothing came.

"Is it because I'm an Atoning?" I whispered. The Drillmaster rose his eyebrows and scoffed.

"With that attitude, I'm surprised you're not farther behind. You still have that chip on your shoulder?" He leaned forward and whispered, "No, sir. Consider this: the top-ranked candidate is always subject to the highest scrutiny. While you may have a choice of where you are placed after you finish your training, you are expected to join the Warlord's guard." I was silent. He stared intently at me." Something tells me you're not interested in that," he continued.

"So I would reconsider who you accuse of being unfair to you. They might just be trying to do you a favour." I lowered my head. While I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention, I couldn't stop a pang of guilt from swirling in my stomach. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think—""Just don't let it happen again," the Drillmaster said.

"You intrigue me, but my interest in you could run out quite quickly."

"Is there something you want?" I asked.

"I want you to graduate soon, and I want the Subtle Men off my back. I don't want any trouble. But if you make things too difficult for me, I will take the easy way out. This is your first and final warning, Levi. You may have a title, but don't let it go to your head."