Sword and Mind

1

"Concentrate, Pallu," Nimshi admonished his daughter.

For the hundredth time.

The flames of candles that ringed her flickered as if wind blew at them. There, however, was no wind in this dungeon of a room in the cellar of Nimshi's home. "I'm trying, Father. I have only done it once."

"And you must do it again and again 'til you are proficient."

"Why must you push me so?"

"Because you are so gifted, child, that you have begun the work of masters and you are not yet out of your teens. I have only..." He closed his mouth, not wanting to give fuel to the girl's pride though she never mentioned or boasted her uncanny abilities.

Her green eyes flashed over to him. "I am not worthy of such praise. I'm just a girl."

The anger in her voice softened him as he recalled seeing her with the smithy's apprentice. Just a girl. He sighed and waved his hand. Four candles blew out. The smoke tendrils from the wicks filled his nostrils as he stepped over them and stood before his daughter. With his hands placed gently on her shoulders he smirked. "Does this have anything to do with that boy?"

"No. I am just saying that I'm not all that great. I think you think too highly of me."

He laughed from the bottom of his stomach. "I should like to meet a father who does not. And you are only what you think you are. No wonder you can not think straight with these thoughts in your head." He laughed a little and punched her playfully on the arm. Then seriousness came over his face like a dark cloud. "Do you not want to do this? If not, speak, Pallu. You should not do what you do not want to. Especially concerning something as serious as you are doing."

"Holding the flames still is not so serious."

"No but leading a life you don't want to is."

She sighed and looked up at him as if he were some hero of old. Pallu usually looked at him like that, especially during her training. "I love this, Papa. I just wish sometimes to be like everyone else. I have lived my life among the adults, and I do not know how to act around those my own age."

"Why have you not spoken sooner?" His voice sounded truly stunned by her answer.

"Because I didn't want you to think that I don't enjoy what I do. I love it. This unhappiness of sorts is something newly discovered. I just recently am able to put words to my thoughts."

Nimshi was silent as he pondered his daughter's words. "What you need is a holiday."

"A what?"

"A holiday. A break. Time off."

She stood hesitantly. "I'm allowed that?"

"Of course you are. Even the king and queen take time out from their ruling."

"Truly, Papa? I've never heard of that."

"Why do you think they go to the hunting lodge or to other places? You have worked hard for so many years, Pallu. I think that a holiday is in store. Put the stuff away. I'll wait for you by the stairs."

Dumbstruck, Pallu watched her father move to the dark doorway and regard her. With a wave of her hand, half the flames died. The other half floated into the air and found their places on the chandler made of a wagon wheel. With the light filling the dark places of the room, Pallu turned to the unlit candles, and they flew into a nearby crate, and the cushion she sat upon floated to cover the boxed candles. Then the cushion-covered crate lifted into the air and found its home atop a cabinet. As she walked to the door, she winked at Nimshi, and the chandler went out.