by Abby Aaron
“Share what makes you so gleeful, wife,” Jael asked playfully. “We all could use a good laugh to ease the tension.
“Aras must be speaking the truth because my memories are quite ridiculous now that I think about them. In my haze, I thought I heard him demand the necessary seed to save me. Then I was sure Dalia insisted there was a price to pay, but he didn’t have any newborn female babes to offer up for the seed.” Clutching her stomach, Giannis tried to gasp for air.
Aras, too, was void of fresh oxygen as he held his breath, powerless to stop her as she shared a secret his family had guarded for cycles now. His blood sister’s life hung in the balance suddenly. Would his careless actions cost his childhood family unit to lose all hope of her return? Loinbard tensed beside him, anger taking hold of his expression as well.
“Then Aras gave Dalia some gray hound’s seed so the city women could have babies who excel at smelling, and she happily retrieved the seed from the Tree of Life for me,” Giannis finished saying. “What a ridiculous notion! We don’t even have hounds within the city’s limits.”
14
Back on Track
Anders covered Jemina’s lips with his callused hand and pulled her back out of view before the others in the meeting area could notice her presence. He whispered in her ear. “He will not forgive your interference, Jem. Allow him the honor of reclaiming his pride, or Giannis’ injury will weigh heavily on his heart for cycles to come.”
Loinbard stood beside his brother. Aras slowly removed his shirt and tossed it aside. Jael, Chaim and Moshe circled him, laying out the charges against him for him to respond to, so the punishment could proceed. “Do you alone take responsibility for our wife’s wound, son of Konrad?” Chaim, the rightful leader of the triad, asked.
“I do,” Aras replied, an expression of deep resolve taking over his face. “I agree to accept the consequences so I can know this sinful stain is released from my soul.”
“But you do not even know the number of strikes to be inflicted for your actions, yet do readily accept the price?” Moshe seemed incredulous by the calm the man they circled showed.
“Though my time in your village has been brief, I have learned a lot about your people and the honor they demonstrate. Jemina is a brave, skilled woman because of her childhood within these boundaries. Her fathers and mother are honest, faithful followers of Urijah’s code of ethics. As their son, I know Jael will share their tendencies. Since he claims you two as brothers in his triad, my trust extends to you as well. I gladly accept any number given as a just punishment to restore my honor and cleanse me of this sin.”
Jael passed judgment. “Three strikes are warranted, one for each of Giannis’ husbands.”
“I seek to take a share of my brother’s portion.” Loinbard made known his intent to accept at least one of the prescribed strikes in Aras’ stead.
“Before we consider your offer,” Moshe interrupted, “hear out the full sentence. Three strikes are required, but one has already been paid. By bringing our wife to the healer, you bore responsibility for your actions. The first strike is no longer needed.”
Chaim spoke next, “By leaving the challenge Leodon set forth, you gave up a chance to claim a victory to honor your responsibility for getting our wife needed aid. For this reason, the second strike is considered paid in full.”
“The final strike will wipe clean any lingering stain of regret you may harbor, brother.” Jael picked up a red, hot poker that rested in a nearby fire. “Are you still willing to pay the price, Aras, son of Konrad?”
He gave his back to Jemina’s twin in reply. Her scream of outrage was muffled by Anders’ hand as a solid blow caught Aras across the top of his shoulders. Tears poured down her face at the pain the man she loved endured. But Aras simply remained quiet, letting the blow dissipate through his body. Only then did he walk away, grabbing his shirt as he did so, for a moment alone to collect his thoughts.
Hendrix and Johan had watched the entire scene from their resting spot on the raised platform near the center of the meeting area. Satisfied to see one of their competitors suffer, they exchanged looks of approval. “I bet Aras will think twice before crossing any of you again now that he knows what follows such an insult,” Hendrix told Jael.
Instead of accepting the offhanded compliment, Jemina’s twin gave the Finn warrior a look of repulsion. “I count Aras and, therefore his triad, as my brothers now. It is human to make miscalculations. Owning up to errors, even unintentional ones, is part of being a man.”
Chaim moved toward the center of the area, Moshe with him, but the latter remained silent while their leader explained. “What we do find offensive, son of Finn, is a pompous group of outsiders daring to scatter their belongings along the hallowed ground used to celebrate the life and death of descendants of Urijah.
“Or the disrespect of strangers making their beds on sacred land…” Jael said. As one, his triad stepped forward to the base of the platform and waited. No further words were necessary. Moshe held one of the pokers that were stored near the fire pit. He slapped it against his hand, lowering his face to regard the men above with disdain. Johan and Hendrix reluctantly started collecting their belongings to relocate. They ordered a naïve Crosby to do the same.
A long time passed before Anders released his hold on Jemina. By then, her brother’s triad had departed and the other competitors were gaining their sleeping rolls to turn in. She wasted no time seeking out Aras where he stood twenty feet away. The soft glow of the fire hid his back in shadows, but she could still imagine the ugly scar that was left behind in the angry poker’s wake.
He must have heard her coming, because he turned in her direction and found her throwing herself into his arms. He stroked her back, trying to soothe her sobbing. “You do not belong here, Jem. I would have preferred you not witness my shame. But know you one thing, it pleases me that you did not intervene. It means you respect me as a warrior and mate. I am humbled to have earned such an honor.”
“My respect for you is deep, but I would have screamed my head off given the chance.” She wept into his warm, massive chest, which was still bare. Jemina inhaled his strong scent, his pleasant smell tinged with scorched flesh now. She found strength in the smooth, hard lines of his rib cage, tracing the area with her fingers. “Anders held me fast, not letting me rush to your side. Oh, Aras, it breaks my heart to see you suffer. I would rather face the punishment myself.”
“It was not your punishment to accept,” he scolded her. Anders and Loinbard appeared and the four walked a bit farther from the meeting area so they could be assured of privacy. “How did you manage to slip off into the night, village daughter? If your family unit is in any way as protective as mine, your fathers should have been able to intervene any escapes.”
“It is my family’s bonding night,” she explained, a shameful look tinging her cheeks a delightful red. Husbands and wives were afforded one night of guaranteed privacy each week. Any children were cared for by relatives to allow for procreation purposes. “My siblings are off at one of my fathers’ family member’s unit.”
“You were not expected to join them there?” Loinbard teased, taking a seat, and resting his back against a tall tree.
“I may have given the impression I was staying at a different family member’s dwelling so I could escape Finnegan’s pitiful attempts at blowing his horn.” She giggled and they all smiled at her mischievous glow. “My brother takes his duty to announce each challenge quite seriously. I would gladly make the awful instrument vanish otherwise.”
Aras helped her find a clean patch of grass to rest on before he and Anders sat down. “If you were one of my children, Jem, I would make sure the consequences for leaving your home made you second guess any future attempts. As it is, I am sure your own fathers will want to take up the issue with you come sunrise.”
She gave an impish grin. “Creator willing, they will never learn of my little act of disobedience. If necessary, I will sleep near
Smiley until night is over. When my brothers return home, I will rise and rejoin their number, my parents being none the wiser.”
“No less than three of your fathers’ friends are observing our every move right now, my sassy Jem.” Anders smiled, pulling her to rest on his lap. “Your parents will know of your transgressions. Even if the Urijah warriors do not tell, the three of us will.”
“You would knowingly cause me trouble?” she pouted, cuddling against his strong chest. “I only snuck out to make sure Aras was safe. My intentions were pure.”
The rumbling of his laughter sounded in her ear as Jemina relaxed. “I fear your husbands will have their hands full trying to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“But the three of you are up to the challenge,” she murmured back. Her eyes growing heavy. “Do try not to lose any more of the challenges,” she scolded Aras. “I cannot stomach another meal with those horrible men beside me.”
“None of us enjoyed the sight either,” Loinbard said, wanting his turn to share a few stolen touches with their chosen bride. He reached over to nudge her toward his firm legs. Removing his shirt, he covered her shoulders before starting to stroke her soft hair. “You wouldn’t have any hints to give us an advantage over the others regarding the next event?” he teased.
“Finnigan helped Papa Darnish come up with tomorrow’s game. He is positive Hendrix or Johan will disqualify themselves and be banished from the competition. How are you three with handling children?”
Aras, the warrior who had not flinched at a hot poker to the back, recoiled. “Children? What sort of challenge would involve sucklings? I have not changed a wee baby’s underpants in many cycles, Jemina. Feeding one is even more foreign to me because my second mother breastfed her babes.”
She giggled at his discomfort. “If you are going to be a father one day, you will need to help your devoted wife care for your children. But do not fret over such concerns at present. I speak of children a bit older than sucklings with dirty underpants or empty tummies. A new batch of fledglings is due to start training tomorrow. You will work with boys of twelve or fourteen cycles in age. Finnegan exposed my spying as they discussed the plan, and Darnish banned me from the ground level while they could finalize the rules. I believe he wishes to see what methods my potential mates would employ to prepare a new generation of warriors.”
The sound of an eagle interrupted any further discussion. Aras got to his feet, pulling Anders, Jemina and finally Loinbard up. “We have been signaled to return our village princess to her family unit.”
“Signaled by whom?” she demanded, not ready to part from their company.
“A tall, beast of a warrior with reddish gray hair and an impressive scar across his forehead.
“Grandfather Ian?” she paled. “That eagle’s caw was from him. He won’t tell my fathers about my behavior. He will see to my punishment himself. The leather belt which hangs across his waist is brutal.”
Loinbard smiled at her dismay. He turned her toward the direction of her home and gave her a loud smack across the backside to start her moving. “You will face the consequences of your rash decision to put yourself in danger tonight, be it from your fathers or grandfathers.”
“Or us,” Aras applied three swift blows to her small fanny, nodding with approval when she gasped at the pain they caused. “We may not have a thick strap of leather at hand, but I think one of the spare pokers near the fire would help stress the foolishness of impulsive choices.”
Jemina faced Anders, denying him access to her already throbbing bottom. “And to think I came here to support you three. Why would I even consider husbands who would dare to inflict pain upon a devoted, loving wife?”
Anders chuckled, dropping down to one knee and tugging her off balance. She ended up face down, his hand positioned above her ass. With a playful whisper, he suggested she project loud and clear so her grandfather would know she was paying the price for her poor judgment. As if she needed advice. His hard hand rained down on her poor, unprotected backside repeatedly.
Twenty of his unyielding blows had to equal the agony of the hot poker. She screeched and wiggled, trying to free herself. At one point, she looked up to beg Aras or Loinbard for assistance. She found them nodding with approval, even indicating Anders should not end the punishment too soon. Balling her hands, she pounded them into the ground. It would serve them right if she pulled the dagger from her thigh and cut a strip off their backsides.
A weary expression replaced her rebellious thoughts. She could never do lasting harm to any of these men, even the horrible brute bruising her ass. She adored each of them. Jemina took comfort in knowing they would never truly harm her, either. Even this correction, she had to admit, was not given in irritation. They sought to help her curb her more impulsive actions. Like Aras had said when he accepted the hot poker across his back, the punishment helped cleanse him of his sins. She melted against Anders, letting redemption wash over her.
Afterwards, Aras, Loinbard and Anders escorted her back to her grandfather Ian’s home. Leodon’s father thanked them for the courteous act before signaling for someone from inside to allow access to the first level. It was Aras who dared to push his luck. “In our villages, it is important to provide comfort after a correction is delivered to those under our care. May we kiss your granddaughter good night, sir? To ensure she knows this matter is done and will not be spoken of again?”
Blocking the entrance with his frame, the older warrior grunted, “Make it quick.”
Jemina thought to turn her back on the three men before her, but in the end, she could not deny herself a chance to enjoy their more pleasant attentions. She walked to stand by Aras first, since he had been bold enough to put the question to her grandfather. Standing on tiptoes she, reached up to allow him access to her lips. He roughly yanked her into his arms, nearly knocking her off balance. His steel arms locked around her waist as he lifted her up and took possession of her mouth. His tongue demanded access, and she tilted her head back and allowed her lips to part. A loud cough sounded by the entrance, suggesting her grandfather’s patience was wearing thin. She was back on her own feet again, but they were shaky at best.
Anders pulled her to him, bending her head up so he could get better access. His tongue did not merely explore her mouth, it sought to duel with her own. Light-headed now, she savored the thrill of his taste, different from Aras, but still intoxicating.
Loinbard came forward once she was freed again. He stared in her eyes as his lips moved down to cover her own. Her lids began closing but he ordered her to keep them wide. “I want to watch your reaction to my kiss, Jem. It pleases me to see your steel blue eyes go dark and wide with passion. You will be a wild lover when wed. I torture myself with that notion as I try to sleep.”
She was shoved inside moments later, and Jemina’s hand reached up to examine her swollen lips. Her grandfather, Ian frowned down at her, but she was too far lost in the glory of her lovers’ kisses to notice. Her underclothes were damp, and she wished Aras was available to help change them.
15
Darnish’s Challenge
Konrad-Finn Triad: 1 win
Finn Triad: 1 win
The anarchy taking place below them give Aras, Loinbard and Anders pause. Adolescents of varying ages and sizes ran about the training field unsupervised and feral. Taller, arrogant boys pushed younger counterparts down to the lower level, mocking their slight stature or weaker fighting skills. Wooden daggers and swords swung wildly around, without the least concern for accidently hitting an unsuspecting neighbor. A fair amount of fresh blood littered the ground.
Loinbard was the first to speak. “I would rather change suckling’s underpants than waste time on this undisciplined lot.”
“Are you so old that you have forgotten the thrill of finally being allowed to train as a fledgling, my new brother. I wager we all were as wild as these young boys when we took the field that first, official training season.” Anders grimaced as a
chubby child tripped over his own feet, falling over the edge of one level and landing on a smaller child below. He held his breath until the smaller child freed himself and extracted revenge with a mighty blow of his wooden sword. The sight filled him with pride for the young boy’s courage.
The Finn warrior smiled with amusement suddenly. “Now I understand why mothers are not allowed to observe the training process. My orderly, tiny mother would be unable to stop herself from marching out there and taking away all the practice weapons being shoved around carelessly. Then she’d have all the boys sit in quiet, lined rows to await proper instruction.”
“I prefer watching these future fighters in their own natural environment,” Aras said as he glanced over the viewing stands at the mock battles taking place below. “It gives us a clean measure of each child we might have to deal with.”
Hendrix and Johan were bored. Apparently, they assumed the challenge had nothing to do with the children, and the triads where merely waiting for the ground to become available for their task. The Finn warriors did not bother to waste time watching children play. Crosby took the time to catch up on his sleep in a shady corner of the viewing platform.
The other triad for Konrad observed the events going on below. They chuckled at some of the antics taking place on the field, discussing a few memories of their own first day of training. Aras heard them take bets on which of the boys would end up vanquished to the lowest level in the battle the children waged.
Tyler, the oldest of their group, saw great promise in some scruffy looking teenagers. The boys were not yet paired off, but he suggested the three of them would make an excellent team. Aras agreed with his observations, knowing he would no longer consider those children since the other triad had noticed them first.
Jemina came to stand close by, but her back was to them so as not to attract too much attention. “I spent more years on the training hills than any other fledgling,” she said in a casual tone. “Every cycle, a new set of fledglings appear, ready to begin their training. It was fun to watch them exhaust themselves showing off for their trainers. After a few cycles, I grew tired of watching the fresh recruits make fools of themselves. They were finally allowed to join the sessions but were unorganized and comical. It was more insightful to note what the warriors who would train them concentrated on as they watched the new recruits.” She slanted her head to the right where a few strong warriors watched and discussed the events going on below.