Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1)

by CW Thomas

  Broderick looked to his right at Brayden and Preston, then left toward Dana, Nash and Ty. He wouldn’t have made it through the night without any of them.

  Khalous was right. They had no country anymore. They had nothing except each other. Broderick realized that he had been living as though he were still within the safety of Aberdour, well protected behind its stone walls. He felt with an icy chill through his core that it had come time for that to change.

  The months passed. Another summer came and went, followed by another bitter winter. The group continued to bond under the leadership of Khalous, who never wavered in his seriousness or discipline.

  He had begun inviting Dana with them on their training exercises and even forged her a new bow more powerful than the one she’d had before. She could launch an arrow into the dead center of a target from even the longest distances, a feat that none of the others could replicate. She was getting faster, stronger, and more tactical.

  Khalous had the monastery’s blacksmith forge for the boys new swords of folded steel, which he charged them with sharpening on their own whetstones. The swords were heavier, but only at first. Their arms grew stronger, their attacks faster, and before long they were holding their own against Pick and Stoneman in dueling matches high atop the eastern fields.

  Broderick found that he rarely thought about life in Aberdour anymore. His long lost sisters Lia, Brynlee, and Scarlett, were a mere memory that he chose not to think about. All he had was a growing fire in his chest that burned against the Black King. For Broderick, the day they returned to Edhen could not come soon enough.

  DANA

  Dana thought the game had a simple enough objective: retrieve the trophy and bring it back to the top of the hill. Complicating matters was the fact that the trophy was hidden in a padlocked box somewhere in the monastery.

  Also hiding was Pick, Stoneman, and Khalous—the Old Warhorse, as the boys had come to call him. All three of them were ready to sack anyone not clever enough to tread quietly.

  “You all hid your weapons inside the monastery right?” Brayden asked. He was crouched low in the tall grass on a slope facing Halus Gis, dressed in light leather armor and pants designed to make less noise when he moved.

  “I put mine behind the barn,” Dana said. She missed the comfort of her bow in her hands and the rattle of quivered arrows at her hip, but she knew this was all part of the exercise.

  She glanced at her two teammates.

  Clint just yawned, not seeming to care.

  Broderick folded his arms, frowned, and said, “I still don’t see why we had to hide our weapons.”

  “Because we’ll have to scale the walls,” Brayden said. “I don’t want the clatter of weapons giving away our positions.”

  “Remember last time Khalous had us sneak into the monastery?” Dana added. “He stationed Ariella at the gate to confiscate any weapons.”

  “That’s what they do in some towns,” Brayden said.

  Broderick’s nature in recent months was to argue at every possible instance, most notably with Brayden, so it came as no surprise to Dana when he said, “But I can scale the wall with my weapons.”

  “I know you can,” Brayden said, keeping his cool. “That’s not the point.”

  “That wall is fifteen feet high,” Clint argued. “How do you expect us to scale it?”

  Broderick poked Clint in his gut. “Told you to stop stealing tarts from the kitchen.”

  Clint shoved him. “Go piss.”

  Dana tried to hide her smirk. She knew that Clint’s weight wasn’t solely the fault of his love for food. Over the last two years he had received several growth spurts that had not only given him noteworthy girth, but considerable height. Underneath his portly build, however, was well-formed muscle fully capable of pushing that weight around.

  Brayden scratched an outline of the monastery walls in the dirt with a short stick. “Trees grow close to the walls here and here.” He poked the ground twice, once in the northeast corner, and once in the middle of the southern wall. “Their limbs should get us close enough to hop over.”

  “They do,” Dana said.

  “How do you know?” Clint asked.

  “Remember last year when the duktori heard there were black vipers in the west, and he ordered the gates shut for a whole moon?”

  The boys nodded.

  Dana shrugged. “I used to sneak out at night to practice with my bow.”

  “You? Break the rules?” Clint said, and his tone was fringed with sarcasm.

  Broderick shook his head. “Bad sister.”

  “All right,” Brayden began. “We need to sweep the grounds in sections. If we split up we can each search one area. We’ll meet behind the barn when the dinner bell chimes.”

  Broderick started toward the monastery, throwing a terse, “Got it,” over his shoulder.

  Clint hurried after him.

  “Wait,” Brayden said. “If you find the box, don’t touch it. Come find me first. All right?”

  Broderick and Clint kept walking, both of them ignoring Brayden.

  “All right?” he called again.

  Still, they didn’t respond.

  Brayden stood, sighed, and looked at Dana, his eyes begging for help. She shrugged, not knowing what to tell him.

  “Looks like they’re headed south,” she said. “North for us?”

  “North it is,” Brayden answered.

  He took off at a quick jog down the hill.

  Dana was more than content to be alone with Brayden. The two of them worked well together, she thought. Her natural attention to detail coupled with his careful thought process made them a formidable pair during Khalous’ many war games. Too often she felt that Brayden’s cautious nature stemmed from fear, but at least it worked to his advantage, unlike Broderick who too often acted before he thought.

  Brayden had become a respected combatant as well. His coordination with his sword and shield, his perfect balance, and acute focus, made him a sharp warrior. He wasn’t as fast as Broderick, or as stylish as Nash, but he managed to coalesce the best bits of Khalous’ teachings to become a well-rounded fighter. He was relentless with his training. He never stopped perfecting his body. If Khalous demanded one hundred pushups, Brayden did one hundred, twenty-five. If the boys were challenged to sprint one league, he would run two. If he did this to better improve himself or stay in competition with Broderick, Dana couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t think it mattered.

  Unlike her brothers and Clint, who had all grown considerably over the years, Dana hadn’t grown much at all, at least not in height. Though still short and small waisted, her features had become more refined. Where once a young girl’s round cheeks and soft jaw sloped into a scrawny neck, now appeared a woman’s face that gave way to a graceful collar and other attributes more akin to womanhood.

  She followed Brayden north toward the ravine that divided the eastern hills from Halus Gis. They traversed a fallen tree to cross the precipice and hurried up the slope behind the eastern wall of the monastery.

  “They’re never going to respect you unless you win their approval,” she said.

  Brayden cast a curious glance over his shoulder. “What?”

  “Clint and Broderick. The others too.”

  Brayden created a notch with his hands to hoist Dana up into a tree. The rough bark tugged at her slacks as she climbed up.

  “I shouldn’t have to win their approval,” Brayden said. “Like Stoneman and Pick respect Khalous. He doesn’t have to earn their respect. They respect him because he’s their superior.”

  Dana crouched on a limb and looked down at her brother. “So you think you’re superior to the others.”

  “Everyone keeps expecting me to be a leader, so, yes.”

  Brayden climbed up into the tree.

  “I just wish they would trust me,” Brayden continued. “Things would be so much easier if Clint wasn’t fighting me all the time. Broderick too.”

  “Clint is lik
e a dog trying to lead the pack, but he’s got no idea where he’s going and he’s too dumb to realize that most of the others don’t respect his leadership anyway. Worry less about him and more about our brother.”

  He followed Dana out onto a thick limb and dropped down onto the wall.

  “They need to understand the chain of command,” Brayden said.

  “Khalous might have us living like we’re soldiers, but we’re not soldiers,” Dana said. “There’s no chain of command here. And the boys are, um…” Dana paused, unsure of how much she should tell him. If she were to be honest, she’d have to admit that the others found Brayden too timid. “They need a reason to follow you,” she concluded.

  Brayden looked hurt. “What are you saying?”

  Dana winced, worried she’d said too much. “Remember how father used to dine with the soldiers every few days? He’d go out to the barracks, sit with the men, learn about them, talk and joke with them. And maybe he had their respect by default, but he earned it nonetheless.”

  Dana led the way, sidling out along a thick bough toward the monastery’s outer wall. She hopped down onto the stone, traversed across the top of the wall, and lowered herself down the other side.

  Brayden followed suit, landing next to her on the soft grass.

  “Any suggestions?” he asked, his voice quieter.

  “I don’t know.” Dana poked her finger into his chest. “That’s privileged information for leaders like you to figure out.”

  She looked around, making sure the way was clear. “So why did you tell them not to open the box without you?”

  “Because I know how to get it open.”

  Her brows lifted. “Really? How?”

  He smirked. “That’s privileged information for leaders like me.” He took off at a slight jog south toward the main road.

  Dana headed west along the inner skirt of the northern wall.

  As she moved deeper into the monastery, she grew nervous. She recalled what had happened to Preston, Nash, and Ty when they attempted to retrieve the box the day before. When the boys had returned, Preston bore a bruised cheek courtesy of Pick, and Nash’s bloody nose and Ty’s bruised ribs were the result of an encounter with Stoneman. She wondered what would happen to her if she were caught.

  Dana came across the blacksmith’s workshop first. The man who worked as the monastery’s smithy, a big-armed criminal named Lorne, had been reformed through the ministry of Duktori Bendrosi. He worked in the shop twice a week making tools and fixing broken metal objects. The man had intimidated Dana when she’d first met him, but Lorne, despite his wild eyes and toothless grin, was nothing but a big teddy bear inside.

  Dana looked around the workshop, but didn’t see the locked box.

  She continued west through the grounds, keeping a sharp eye out for Khalous, Pick, and Stoneman. She eyed the monastery denizens going about their duties—lay servants tending to the communal garden and hanging laundry, widows with their children, orphans playing in the street.

  After searching the outbuildings, including the lay servants’ dormitory, Dana concluded that her quarter of the grounds did not contain the hidden trophy. She slunk toward the barn to meet the others out back.

  When she rounded the corner of the stable building she saw Clint prying aside one of the barn’s clapboards. He wedged his wide frame through the opening, snagging his brown pants for a moment, before disappearing inside.

  Curious, Dana crept into the barn through the same gap. Inside she saw Broderick and Clint conspiring near a small brown wooden box secured with a padlock. The two boys had found the trophy.

  To Dana’s horror, the box hung suspended above the floor by four ropes. Each rope was attached to a cowbell. The whole contraption was one giant alarm waiting to go off if anyone touched it.

  Clint went to reach for the box when Brayden appeared in an open window at the rear of the barn. He signaled for Clint to stop.

  “What?” Clint snapped, his voice rising.

  Brayden pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head.

  Broderick, ignoring his brother, slapped Clint on the arm, and gestured to the box. “Just do it,” he whispered.

  Dana remained crouched in the dark corner of the barn, gritting her teeth in frustration at Broderick and Clint. Her legs tensed, half wanting to spring out into the open and stop them, but she knew that if she moved she risked giving away her position.

  “Just listen to Brayden,” Dana whispered to herself. “Trust him.”

  “You ready?” Clint asked.

  Broderick crouched low in preparation to sprint. “Ready.”

  “Stop!” Brayden said.

  Clint charged up to the box. He took one mighty swing with his sword, splintering the wood into a hundred pieces. All four bells blared. The trophy tumbled out—a silver chalice. Broderick sprinted for the trophy, grabbed it, and dashed for the open window where Brayden was watching, infuriated.

  “You idiots!” he shouted.

  “Run!” Clint said. “I’ll draw them off.” He swung his sword at one of the ropes, rattling one of the bells again.

  The barn door burst open with Pick and Khalous barging inside.

  “Run, Broderick!” Clint yelled. He twirled his sword and set his eyes on Pick, who was unarmed.

  The young soldier was dressed in leather-padded slacks and a close-fitting armored vest, spry and quick. He shot forward into a low sweep kick that blew Clint’s knees out from underneath him.

  Dana never ceased to be amazed at how fast Pick could move.

  “Bloody bloody,” Pick chirped. He proceeded to disarm Clint and pin him to the ground.

  Dana turned her head to see if Broderick had made it out the window. Instead she saw Stoneman slip out from his hiding place in one of the horse stalls. He slammed Broderick in the chest with the pole of a spear. The boy fell to the floor like a sack of grain, sending the trophy clattering across the floor.

  “Incredible effort, you two,” Khalous said. “What a big, dumb, incredible effort.”

  Broderick shoved Stoneman’s spear out of his face. “Get off me,” he said, rising to his feet.

  Brayden vaulted through the window into the barn. “I had the key, you halfwits!” he shouted.

  “What?” Broderick said.

  “What?” echoed Khalous.

  Brayden tossed the Old Warhorse the key. “I saw Lorne cutting it for you yesterday,” he said. “I saw you hide it in the pocket of your tunic, so I figured I’d take it in case it had anything to do with the challenge.”

  “That’s quite an assumption, master Brayden.”

  “But genius,” Pick added.

  Dana emerged from her hiding spot and walked out into the main room to watch the inevitable argument between Brayden and Broderick unfold. Their bickering was becoming so common that even predicting their spats was a bore.

  “You had the key and you didn’t tell me?” Broderick said. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “What’s the matter with you?” Brayden shot back. “Do you understand nothing that we’re doing here?”

  “Yeah, trying to win.”

  “Once again completely missed the point of this exercise.”

  “Oh, do tell.” Broderick’s tone reeked with sarcasm.

  “Teamwork,” Brayden said. “Trust. Silence. Stealth. Not everything needs to be solved by smashing and running like some barbarian jackdaw. Do you ever just stop to think for two bloody seconds?”

  “You just like to solve everything on your own,” Broderick said. “Have to have all the glory, don’t you?”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? You kept that key a secret so you could be the one to open the case. Always have to be the big hero.”

  “All right,” Khalous said. “That’s enough.”

  “But you don’t have the courage to become a hero, do you?” Broderick continued.

  “What?”

  “You’re a coward, Brayden. Always have bee
n.”

  Dana looked at her brother’s face and saw the toll of Broderick’s words.

  “You blame me for smashing and running, acting before I think,” Broderick said, “but the fact is you never act at all because you’re just too scared.”

  “That’s enough,” Khalous said again.

  “You’re a self-centered jerk, you know that?” Brayden said.

  “And you’re every bit the spoiled prince that—”

  “I SAID ENOUGH!” Khalous bellowed. He pointed a finger at Broderick and then waved it over toward Brayden. “You’re both a couple of stubborn asses.”

  Dana sniggered. The Old Warhorse wasn’t wrong.

  Broderick folded his arms. He started to protest, but Khalous continued.

  “Brayden, there is a leader in you somewhere. You want your team to trust you? Then you need to trust your team, and sometimes that means working with whatever decisions they make whether you agree with them or not.”

  He wheeled on Broderick. “And you! You criticize your brother for wanting all the glory, but that’s only because you’re so obsessed with getting it yourself.”

  Broderick stormed out of the barn, slamming his fist into the door as he went and splitting the wood of one of the boards.

  Khalous inhaled a deep breath, shaking his head. He lifted a hand to his whitening beard and paced away in deep contemplation.

  Pick let Clint off the floor. Dana watched him rise to his feet, snarling as he brushed himself off. He threw an impudent glance at the others and then thumped out of the barn.

  Khalous walked up to Brayden. Lowering his voice, he said, “I like the way you use your head. You’re a careful thinker. You’ve a mind for strategy. But you need the trust of your team. You need to make a stand, boy. Learn to take control. Find a way to bring them together or you’re going to lose them all.” He motioned toward the floor and the shattered box. “Get things cleaned up, then join us in the dining hall.”