TALENT BEYOND LIMIT: Stacking Many Talents

The greyhorn stag entered Blackwood before Simon did.

A forestry wagon carried the carcass through the western gate while Simon followed on a litter, which offended him considerably.

“This is backwards.”

Joe walked beside him.

“What is?”

“The deer is riding better than I am.”

“It is dead.”

“That makes it worse.”

Daren, walking behind them, said, “It complained less.”

Simon tried to turn far enough to glare at him, discovered that twisting hurt his ribs, and immediately faced forward again.

Joe hid a smile.

The gate guards stopped joking when they saw the antlers.

A mature greyhorn was not extraordinary enough to empty the street, but it was large enough that workers nearby paused to look. The antlers spread almost as wide as the wagon, scarred along several tines, and dried mud still covered part of the animal’s flank.

Joe looked at it again.

For years, one childhood memory had bothered him precisely because he had never resolved it.

Ben had called the animal in the river a deer.

Joe had doubted him.

Ben, annoyingly, had probably been right.

--------------

Mira reached the guard medical room less than an hour later.

Joe was examining Simon’s ribs again when the door opened hard enough to strike the wall.

Simon looked up. Mira stopped.

Her face had gone pale.

Simon immediately smiled.

“I’m fine.”

Joe pressed one bruised rib.

Simon hissed. Mira looked at him.

Joe said, “He is mostly fine.”

Simon frowned. “Whose side are you on?”

“Medicine.”

She crossed the room.

“What happened?”

“Large deer.”

Mira stared.

Simon added, “Very large deer.”

“That does not improve the explanation.”

“It attacked a worker.”

“And you?”

Simon hesitated.

Joe answered for him.

“He moved the worker.”

Mira closed her eyes briefly.

Simon looked oddly pleased with himself.

Joe noticed.

Apparently almost being crushed by a forest beast became impressive if the correct woman heard about it.

Mira sat beside the examination bench.

“You could have moved away.”

Simon looked offended.

“And let it hit him?”

“That was not what I meant.”

“It sounded like it.”

Mira stared at him.

Simon realized, several seconds late, that arguing with the person worried about him was probably unwise.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m glad I moved him.”

Mira’s expression softened.

“So am I.”

Simon smiled.

Then ruined it.

“You should have seen Joe.”

Joe stopped wrapping the ribs.

Simon continued.

“He killed the thing almost immediately.”

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Mira looked toward Joe.

Wonderful.

“How?”

“Good timing.”

Simon laughed once and regretted it instantly.

“That is not what happened.”

Joe tightened the wrap slightly.

Simon stopped laughing.

Mira’s eyes narrowed.

Joe said, “The stag charged. I had a spear. It committed to a direction, and I moved before it corrected.”

All true.

Daren had seen more than Joe preferred, but the explanation was plausible. A charging animal carried tremendous momentum. Against a properly placed weapon, its own mass could become part of the injury.

Mira looked toward Simon again.

“You are both becoming troublesome.”

Simon smiled.

Joe finished the wrap.

“One of us more than the other.”

Simon pointed at him.

“He says that because he knows you like me.”

The room became silent.

Mira stared at Simon.

Simon’s face changed.

Joe picked up the medicine tray.

“I should check the physician’s stock.”

“You are not leaving,” Simon said immediately.

Joe left.

------------

The stag belonged partly to the guard, partly to the forestry authority, and partly to the patrol under Blackwood’s standard recovery rules.

Joe had never paid much attention to those rules because most patrol kills involved animals too ordinary to create significant value.

Greyhorns were different.

The hide was thick enough for reinforced leather.

The antlers went to craftsmen and medicine buyers.

Tendons had uses in bowmaking.

Several organs were purchased by medicinal processors.

Even selected bones had value.

Joe watched the butchering because medical staff were permitted to examine the carcass before material distribution.

The animal looked even more impressive opened for study.

Not mystical.

Adapted.

Its leg bones were thick relative to body size, joints heavily reinforced, tendon attachments broad enough to support the violent acceleration Joe had witnessed.

One of the forestry men noticed him examining a severed lower leg.

“Thinking of eating it?”

Joe looked up.

“No.”

“Good. Tastes terrible.”

Joe returned to the bone.

The stag’s muscles had been powerful.

Its frame had been built to tolerate those muscles.

That relationship interested him.

During his own later Muscle temperings, Joe had begun feeling the opposite problem. His muscles were approaching forces his ordinary skeleton would eventually struggle to carry.

The greyhorn was not a cultivator.

Its anatomy could not teach him Bone Tempering.

But it demonstrated the principle beautifully.

An engine without a suitable frame eventually destroyed the frame.

Joe ran one thumb along the dense outer bone.

Bone was coming.

Sooner or later.

The official questions came that afternoon.

Garrick attended.

Joe had expected that.

Simon sat because standing too long hurt. Daren and Cole gave their accounts first.

The route.

Bret leaving.

The extended section.

The stag.

The charge.

Simon protecting the forestry worker.

Then Joe.

Garrick looked at the written report.

“You killed a mature greyhorn with one engagement.”

“Yes.”

“You are officially Skin Completion.”

Joe met his eyes.

“My last formal assessment is Skin Completion.”

That wording mattered.

Everyone in the room already knew Joe was training Muscle.

Garrick knew too.

“How far into Muscle?”

Joe smiled faintly.

“I haven’t tested formally.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“No.”

Garrick’s expression hardened slightly.

Joe remained polite.

“I am progressing well.”

Daren looked down.

Probably hiding amusement.

Garrick tapped the report.

“Daren says you moved faster than expected.”

Joe glanced toward Daren.

Daren did not look apologetic.

Good.

Lying badly would be worse.

“The animal was committed to Simon.”

“And the strike?”

“Timing.”

Garrick studied him for several seconds.

Joe could almost see the calculation.

Talented village boy.

Theodere connection.

Medical income.

Known Muscle training.

Exceptional Foundations.

Nothing individually impossible.

Garrick finally looked away.

“Next time, wait for support if you can.”

Joe nodded.

“If I can.”

Garrick heard the qualification.

So did everyone else.

Nothing more was said.

But when Joe left the room, he knew something had changed.

Garrick no longer regarded him merely as Simon’s unusually useful younger brother.

That was acceptable.

Eventually concealment had to evolve from weak to talented but understandable.

Joe had known that for years.

-------------

Simon remained off full patrol for nearly three weeks.

Mira visited often enough that Cole began inventing reasons to enter the medical room whenever she appeared.

Simon finally threatened to assign him permanently to livestock duty.

Cole stopped.

For two days.

Joe found the whole situation entertaining from a safe distance.

Simon became noticeably less intelligent whenever Mira worried about him, while Mira appeared to understand this and occasionally exploited it.

“Joe said you shouldn’t carry anything heavy.”

“I’m almost recovered.”

Mira handed him a medicine box.

Simon instinctively reached for it.

She pulled it back.

Simon stared.

Mira smiled.

Joe looked away before his expression betrayed him.

-----------

The next shift in Blackwood came from Alex.

He reached Bone.

The news spread through the guard compound in less than a day.

Joe heard when Cole entered the medical room despite not being injured.

“Alex broke a training post.”

Joe continued sorting medicine.

“Replace it.”

“With one strike.”

Joe looked up.

Cole smiled.

“Bone.”

That mattered.

Two mornings later, Joe saw Alex demonstrate during senior training.

The difference was obvious now that Joe knew what to watch.

Alex did not suddenly possess miraculous technique.

His body simply transmitted force more efficiently.

The feet accepted load.

The legs drove.

The pelvis carried it.

The spine and shoulder remained connected.

The strike entered the reinforced post without the small structural collapses Joe saw in strong Muscle practitioners.

Wood cracked.

Alex stepped back smiling while several guards congratulated him.

Joe felt no envy.

Mostly.

He felt curiosity.

At lunch, he asked directly.

“Who gave you the method?”

Alex looked at him.

Simon, still on lighter duty, looked interested too.

“Theodere.”

Joe had suspected as much.

“Family?”

“Distantly.”

Alex leaned back.

“Close enough that he considered me. Not close enough that I got anything for free.”

“What did it require?”

Alex’s smile faded into something more serious.

“Years of proving I wouldn’t waste it. Money. Reaching Muscle Completion young enough to matter. Tomas supporting me.”

He touched one wrist unconsciously.

“And an agreement.”

Joe noticed the narrow band beneath his sleeve.

Contract.

Interesting.

Simon asked, “So Theo just had a Bone method this entire time?”

Alex laughed.

“Of course he has methods you’ve never seen.”

That answer irritated Simon.

Joe found it more useful than offensive.

Theodere had taught publicly accessible material through the Hall.

That did not mean every inheritance he possessed belonged to the Hall.

Alex continued, “The guard will teach you enough to understand Bone. It won’t hand you every private method senior officers brought from families and teachers.”

Simon frowned.

“So, you need connections.”

“You need a road.”

Alex stood.

“I had one.”

He left with the quiet confidence of someone whose position had just improved substantially.

Joe watched him go.

A road.

That was the correct word.

Alex had talent.

Money.

A sponsor.

Kinship.

Trust.

A contract.

Together, those things became Bone.

Joe looked toward Simon.

His brother was still staring after Alex.

“That bothers you.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

Joe thought about the greyhorn’s skeleton.

The guard archives.

Theodere.

Garrick.

Edwin.

The larger cities beyond Blackwood.

“No.”

Simon looked surprised.

Joe continued.

“It tells us how the world works.”

“That is the part that bothers me.”

Joe smiled faintly.

That was probably the difference between them.

Simon wanted the road to be fair.

Joe wanted to know where it actually went.