TALENT BEYOND LIMIT: Stacking Many Talents

Joe noticed the road before he noticed the town.

For most of the journey south, the route from Green Hollow had remained familiar enough: packed earth, wagon ruts, scattered farms, wooded hills and the occasional roadside shrine or rest house. Traffic increased steadily as they moved farther south, but the land still felt like the same world he had known for fourteen years.

Then the road widened.

Two loaded grain wagons passed them going north. A covered carriage followed not long afterward, its polished wooden body swaying on iron-rimmed wheels. Behind Joe’s group came a merchant convoy six carts long, accompanied by men carrying bows and short spears.

The farms have changed too. Family plots gave way to larger fenced fields, orchards and clusters of buildings that looked more like businesses than homes. Joe saw a lumber yard with stacks of cut timber taller than a man, then a roadside inn with an actual painted sign swinging above the door.

By late afternoon, dark paving stones began appearing beneath their feet.

At first they covered only a bridge.

Then came patches near larger buildings.

Finally, the packed-earth road disappeared almost completely beneath fitted black stone.

Joe looked down.

The stones had been worn smooth where generations of wheels followed the same tracks, but they were fitted closely enough that rainwater had not carved deep channels through the road.

Blackstone.

Theodere noticed him looking.

”Road came before most of the town,” he said.

”Is that why it’s called Blackwood?”

”Partly. The old Black family likes to claim the other half.”

That gave Joe another question, but the town arrived before he asked it.

Buildings crowded closer to the road. Timber-framed houses appeared first, followed by rows of brick structures whose lower floors opened directly onto the street as shops. Some had painted shutters. Others had actual glass set into wooden frames.

Joe slowed slightly.

Glass.

He had seen windows made from it before. The village elder owned two.

Here, entire rows of merchants apparently considered transparent windows normal.

A carriage rattled past.

Then another.

Men pushed handcarts loaded with grain, pottery and bolts of cloth. A woman carried a tray of steaming buns through the crowd while shouting prices without slowing. Somewhere nearby, iron rang against iron with such regularity that several smithies had to be working at once.

The smell changed with every few steps.

Horse dung.

Charcoal.

Hot oil.

Fresh bread.

Sweat.

Medicinal herbs.

Something sweet roasting in syrup.

Two children darted through the crowd chasing one another until a merchant shouted at them.

Neither child seemed related to him.

Joe found that strangely impressive.

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In Green Hollow, an adult shouting at a child almost certainly knew the parents, grandparents and probably what the family had eaten the night before.

A broad lane opened on their right, packed with permanent stalls beneath colored awnings.

”Main market?” Joe asked.

”One of them,” Theodere said.

One of them.

Green Hollow held a market when merchants bothered to visit.

Blackwood possessed enough people to support several every day.

A butcher’s shop displayed hanging cuts of meat behind a screened window. An eating house had tables visible through wide shutters. A medicine shop had dried roots and leaves bundled under its awning. Farther ahead stood three smithies within sight of one another, dark smoke streaming from their chimneys.

The town was not beautiful in the way Green Hollow was beautiful.

There were no broad fields running toward wooded slopes, no river flashing blue beneath an open sky.

Blackwood was beautiful because it moved.

People moved.

Goods moved.

Money moved.

News moved.

Everything seemed connected to somewhere else.

Joe remembered the map in Theodere’s library.

Blackwood had barely mattered on it.

A minor town.

He watched a two-story brick residence pass on his left and wondered what the state capital looked like.

Then he wondered what the kingdom’s capital looked like.

That thought pleased him more than he expected.

For the first time since leaving home the road ahead felt larger than the road behind.

They continued through the busier central streets before turning toward the forest-facing side of town.

The change was gradual.

Brick gave way to timber more often. Houses stood closer together. Painted walls became patched walls. Narrow lanes branched away between cheap eating houses, workshops and crowded residences.

The blackstone road remained, but some side streets were packed earth.

Beyond the roofs Joe could see the forest.

It rose dark and thick along the edge of town, much closer than the northern woods had ever felt from the center of Green Hollow.

The guard compound stood near that side behind a tall timber wall reinforced with stone.

Two uniformed guards watched the gate.

Inside lay a broad training yard, long barracks, stables, equipment sheds and a larger administrative building with the magistrate’s mark carved above one entrance.

Theodere had barely crossed the yard when a broad-shouldered man in a dark uniform stepped down from the administrative building.

Conversations nearby softened.

Joe noticed that before anything else.

The man was probably in his forties. His hair had begun graying near the temples, and unlike most guards Joe had seen, he carried no weapon openly.

He did not need one to draw attention.

Theodere smiled.

”Tomas.”

”Theodere.”

They clasped forearms.

Joe’s eyebrows rose slightly.

So, the village rumors had understated things for once.

Theodere really did know Blackwood’s Guard Commander.

Green Hollow usually called the man the Guard Captain. Apparently that was not his formal title.

The Commander’s gaze moved toward Joe.

”Another one?”

”Mike’s younger boy.”

”The second?”

”The clever one.”

Joe looked at Theodere.

Theodere ignored him.

Commander Tomas looked Joe over once, neither dismissive nor particularly impressed.

”Fourteen?”

”Yes.”

”Hall says Middle Skin?”

Joe nodded.

That was what Hall’s records said.

It was also what Joe intended Blackwood to believe.

”Selection starts tomorrow,” Tomas said. ”If you embarrass Theodere, I’ll enjoy telling him.”

Joe answered, ”I’ll try not to deprive you of the opportunity.”

The Commander’s mouth moved slightly.

Theodere sighed.

”He’s been like that since he could speak.”

A voice called from across the yard.

”Joe!”

Simon came toward him at a near run.

Joe smiled before he could stop himself.

His brother looked older.

Not dramatically, but enough.

Simon was broader through the shoulders than when he left Green Hollow. His guard tunic fit him properly, good leather boots had replaced village-made ones, and a short sword hung comfortably at his hip rather than looking like borrowed equipment.

He also looked extremely pleased with himself.

Simon grabbed Joe’s shoulder.

”You actually came.”

”I said I would.”

”You also said you’d write more often.”

”I wrote.”

”You sent three letters.”

”That is more than zero.”

Simon opened his mouth.

A young guard crossing the yard interrupted them.

”Captain Simon.”

Simon straightened unconsciously.

Joe slowly turned his head.

Simon tried to keep his face neutral.

He failed.

”Captain?” Joe asked.

”Team captain.”

”You?”

”Some people recognize talent.”

Joe looked past Simon toward Theodere.

Theodere’s mouth twitched.

That was enough.

Joe became immediately suspicious.

Then somebody else crossed the far end of the yard.

Joe recognized him even before Simon spoke.

Alex.

He no longer looked like the fifteen-year-old who had left Green Hollow at Late Skin Tempering.

His uniform was better fitted than Simon’s, a narrow dark sash marked him as attached directly to the commander’s household, and the way he moved had changed. His steps carried more weight without appearing heavy, the kind of controlled solidity Joe associated with deeper body tempering.

Muscle Tempering. At least.

Alex glanced toward them. Simon raised his hand. ”Alex.”

Alex paused just long enough to acknowledge him.

”Simon.”

His gaze moved to Joe.

”You made it.”

”I did.”

”Good.”

Then Commander Tomas called his name.

Alex left immediately.

Joe watched him cross the yard and fell into steps behind the Commander.

”Squire?” he asked.

Simon nodded.

”And team captain when the Commander sends him on normal duty.”

Joe looked at Simon.

”So, there are different kinds of captains.”

Simon frowned. ”Don’t start.”

Joe had been in Blackwood less than an hour.

Already, Green Hollow felt very far away.