Bastial Steel

by Narro, B. T.

  “Alright,” Cleve agreed.

  When Cleve came by later, Jessend’s door was locked, and his knocks went unanswered.

  Probably found her sister, he guessed.

  He sat on a velvet bench nearby, his thoughts wondering about home. It always made him nauseous to imagine a battle raging against the Academy’s walls with him not there to help defend it. Thousands of Kreps storming into the school, the students and teachers outnumbered and outmatched.

  Cleve’s fists clenched as if he felt it was happening right now.

  Why did he keep seeing Reela getting killed when he thought of her? It pained him every time, like a needle pricking his heart.

  But he did manage to realize that it hardened him as well, made him remember his priorities. He swallowed a thick stream of saliva that had built up in his nausea and pinched his leg to distract himself from the worsening pain in his chest.

  Cleve couldn’t sit any longer. He noticed a guard coming down the hall.

  “Do you know where Jessend is?” Cleve stood and asked.

  The guard glanced over his shoulder. “She’s in Lisanda’s room.”

  Cleve thanked the guard and started to leave before he realized he had no idea where her room was. “Can you tell me where it is?”

  The guard grunted dismissively. “Right there.” He pointed to the room next to Jessend’s and went back to his route.

  Cleve knocked.

  “Cleve?” Jessend asked from behind the door.

  “Yes.”

  She opened it just wide enough to slip through, closing it behind her and stepping out into the hall. Her eyes were red and her hair tangled.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier, but…Lisanda…” Jessend choked down her next words. “She was finally telling me about Jek. It’s really bad. I had no idea how close they really were—are, close they are,” she corrected herself twice, shaking her head as she took a breath. “I’m going to spend the night with her. Tomorrow you’re starting horseback training. I’ll send someone to get you in the morning.” Jessend turned and slipped back into the room.

  Alone in his bed, Cleve missed Jessend’s company more than he ever would’ve guessed.

  He tried to remember the last time he’d felt as lonely as he did that night.

  When I was in Welson’s castle, after he told me I had to kill Rek, Cleve realized. I didn’t even sleep that night.

  But in bed now, he did manage to drift off, awaking with the sun peeking in through his window.

  Soon after he was up. Gerace was knocking and slowly opening his door without waiting for his answer.

  “Cleve Polken, I’m bringing your breakfast,” she announced, keeping her head low as she entered. Cautiously looking up, she seemed to let out a breath of relief when she found Cleve dressed.

  She wheeled in a plate with a fancy silver lid atop it. “Eggs, bacon, cheese, bread, and juice,” she told him.

  “Thank you, Gerace.”

  She pushed her top lip toward her nose in a petulant manner. “It’s Jay-riss.”

  Cleve could tell she was saying her name slightly different than he was, but he couldn’t hear the difference. He felt himself squinting as he attempted to figure it out.

  “Jay-ress?” he tried.

  She rolled her eyes. “Jay-riss!”

  Cleve became disinterested, not wanting to try again, but she seemed to be waiting for him to say it. He sighed.

  “Jerr-iss?” Cleve knew it was wrong the moment he said it.

  She scoffed, her curly dark hair bouncing with her head. She turned on her heels and left.

  Cleve could hear her sit down on the bench outside. He waited, but she didn’t move. So he peered out curiously.

  “What?” Gerace asked, displaying her annoyance with lowered eyebrows.

  “Why are you just sitting there?”

  She rolled her eyes. “So I can take you to the horse range when you’re done, since you still don’t know your way around.”

  “You’re just going to sit there and wait for me to eat?”

  “Yes, so if you wouldn’t mind starting, I have a lot to do.”

  Cleve went back in and started eating. The food was hot and delicious, but he couldn’t enjoy it knowing Gerace was right outside waiting.

  After a few bites, he got back up and said, “Will you come in here while you wait?”

  “Do you need something?” Her anger had turned to curiosity.

  I just don’t want you sitting out here, isn’t that enough? “Do you want some food?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve already eaten.” The way her eyes drifted down to his feet made it clear her meal had not been nearly as good as his.

  Cleve heard someone walking down the hall. Before he turned, Gerace jumped up and bowed her head. “My lady.”

  Lisanda stopped to curtsy. Cleve hadn’t noticed before, but she was taller than Jessend by perhaps an inch. She had the same small head, with big brown eyes, but her nose and chin were more pronounced, giving her face a slightly less round shape than Jessend’s.

  “Cleve, are you not hungry?” Lisanda asked, noticing his nearly full plate inside the room on the table.

  “I am. I just felt awkward eating with Gerace sitting outside waiting for me.”

  With her hands on her hips, Lisanda turned to the pale young girl. “You’re making him uncomfortable. Please make yourself busy until he’s done.”

  “I didn’t mean—” Cleve started to say.

  “Yes, Lady Lisanda.” Gerace ran off before Cleve could correct his mistake.

  Now she’s going to hate me even more.

  Lisanda strolled into Cleve’s room and sat at the table with his food begging to be eaten. She eyed his empty seat until he sat.

  “Go ahead and eat,” she said. “I just want to get to know you better while I have this chance.”

  Cleve hesitantly scooped some food into his mouth as he waited for her to continue.

  “Are you a psychic like your Elven friend?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve never seen Jessend so confused. What have you done to her?”

  Cleve would’ve thought Lisanda was joking, but her tone was accusatory. She had the same noble accent and low voice as Jessend, though it felt far less playful, as she seemed to be blaming him for something.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” Cleve continued to eat, hoping this conversation would end when he was finished.

  “My sister has always been so sure of herself. But recently she questions her own desires, she weeps easily, and she’s even told me she’s not sure she knows what love is. So I ask again, what have you done to her?”

  Cleve was starting to get the feeling that Lisanda was just being protective in that moment. At least he hoped she wasn’t always like this, otherwise he’d soon find her more annoying than Captain Mmzaza.

  Interestingly enough, Cleve knew exactly how Jessend was feeling, at least weeping easily and questioning her own desires. The same things had happened to Cleve since their night together.

  “We’ve each suffered the loss of loved ones,” he told Lisanda. “We’re still healing, and the process of that makes us feel like we’re not ourselves.”

  Pain seemed to strike Lisanda’s previously tough face. Her tight lips loosened into a frown, and her eyes started to glisten.

  “Oh.” She let out a sigh. “I think I understand…I might be losing someone as well.”

  Might be? Her words made no sense to Cleve, but from the way she was glancing down at the table, he thought it was best not to pry.

  He finished his food quickly and stood. “Is Jessend waiting for me at the stables?”

  Lisanda shook her head. “Not yet. Sit back down.”

  Cleve didn’t obey at first, hoping he could change her mind. Yet, he thought of no excuse he could give…now that he didn’t have to be somewhere.

  He sat, finding Lisanda’s face had gone hard again as she stared at him intently.


  “What do you want from us?” Lisanda had a way of sounding extraordinarily accusatory, as if she’d already assumed Cleve was guilty of something.

  It made him think to ask, “What did Jessend tell you so far?”

  “I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me—if I could snap my fingers and everything you wanted could come true, what would it be?”

  The answer came easily. “I’d want to be able to return to Kyrro with Rek. I’d want Kasko Lage to be gone. And I’d want Jessend to be happy.” As soon as he said the three things aloud, his head felt five times heavier from guilt. He couldn’t look up. “I realize how impossible it is for all three of those to come true,” he muttered.

  “At least you’re not an idiot,” Lisanda said flatly. “Jessend won’t be happy if you leave, and Kasko has his eyes set on my sister like a hawk circling its prey.” Lisanda tapped the table to have him look up at her. “Jessend told me she wants to help you get back to Kyrro. She believes our father will help with the ship if you can help him with something. She’s planning to speak to him about this. I wanted to hear it from you. Is this what you’ve discussed? You’re fine with allowing her to help you so that you can leave her with Kasko?”

  I was before, but Lisanda’s right. “I need to get back as soon as I can. There’s a war in Ovira. But I won’t leave Jessend until Kasko has been taken care of.” Cleve felt pride lifting him from his chair. He stood with his chest out.

  But the way Lisanda rolled her eyes at him made him sink back down into it, ashamed, though he didn’t even know why.

  “You’re a skilled warrior,” Lisanda said, “but the fight between you and Kasko won’t be with arms. You have a lot to learn before you can even hope to scare him.” Lisanda stood. “Request a meeting with Micah Vail when you can. Speak to him about it. He’ll help you come up with a plan.” She slipped her arm around Cleve’s. “But for now, it’s time to start your horseback training. Jessend is waiting for you.”

  “You said she wasn’t.”

  “Would you have stayed and spoken with me as patiently if I hadn’t?”

  Cleve understood and let Lisanda lead him out without argument. Gerace walked by them to clean up after Cleve.

  “I’m sorry, Gerace,” he said to her back.

  She gave no reply, not even a look over her shoulder.

  After they turned the corner onto another hall, Lisanda said, “You’re saying her name wrong, you know.”

  Cleve sighed.

  Chapter 7

  The horse range, like other outdoor areas within the palace, was reached from the first floor. Cleve was starting to learn the layout of the enormous home to the Takarys and their staff and associates by then. There was actually a system, it seemed.

  The entire building was symmetrical, with the nobler residents living on the top floors while the servants and chefs and other workers lived in the basement. The horse range was in the back of the palace where just one last white wall was all that remained between the palace and the northern side of the city—The Nest, a name Cleve still wasn’t used to.

  Lisanda took him to the glass doors that opened onto a wide field where horses ranged.

  “Don’t act any differently toward Jessend now that we’ve spoken about her,” Lisanda warned him. “If you’re softer on her, she’ll take insult to that. She doesn’t need to be coddled.”

  “You don’t need to tell me that,” Cleve said.

  Lisanda nodded with a wry smile. “I’m going to go fetch Rek. I’ve been meaning to talk to him as well. I look forward to practicing my Elvish.”

  “He doesn’t speak Elvish,” Cleve warned her.

  Lisanda’s shoulders gave out. “What?”

  “He doesn’t know the language.”

  The Princess let out a long breath before turning and dragging her feet away.

  There were a few horses nibbling on grass nearby with someone attending to them. Cleve figured there were many more of the massive animals in the large wooden building off against the side wall.

  As he started toward it, he found Jessend talking with another young woman. They didn’t seem to notice him coming, and soon Jessend was wrapping her arms under the woman’s rear and hoisting her off the ground.

  “Shit!—oops.” The woman covered her mouth right after her accidental swearing, and Jessend burst into laughter, nearly dropping her. “Bastial hell,” the woman said. “You can lift me!”

  “I told you.” Jessend’s eyes found Cleve. “Finally!” She hopped over and dragged him to the woman. “This is Silvie.”

  Cleve held out his hand and gave his name. She shook it hard with a smile. He wondered if Silvie was a nickname, for she had hair so light it was nearly silver.

  She was tall, but lean and strong. Her height might’ve matched Reela’s, but Cleve already could tell they were nearly completely opposite. Just by the way she’d shaken his hand, he could feel a competitive edge emanating from her. She had the same physical confidence as Jessend, looking intently at Cleve as if she wanted to wrestle just to prove how strong she was.

  Silvie seemed older than Jessend, though, perhaps close to twenty or even a little older.

  “Now there’s no way you can lift him!” Silvie raised her eyebrow, gesturing her head toward Cleve.

  Jessend turned to study him, taking a hand to her chin and humming in thought.

  Cleve shook his palm at her and stepped back. “You can’t, and you’re going to hurt yourself if you try.”

  Silvie laughed. “Don’t tell her she can’t do something.”

  “Maybe later…after some wine,” Jessend said, her tone far too serious for Cleve’s taste. “We have work to do. Silvie, what horse would you recommend for Cleve besides one that’s strong enough to support his weight.”

  Silvie smiled at Jessend, taking a blade of grass out of her dark hair. “I bet you’re the only princess in all of Greenedge who regularly gets grass in her hair.”

  With a shy grin, Jessend looked down to her feet. Silvie let the blade of grass fall and turned to Cleve. The way her eyes had lingered on Jessend made the shift of focus to him seem reluctant.

  “You seem gentle for your size,” she said, going into the stables and waving him in after her. “Perhaps a horse of the same type would suit you well. Come meet Nulya.”

  Cleve followed Silvie inside. Jessend ran past him to lock arms with her. Silvie seemed to stiffen from Jessend’s touch. The Princess might’ve sensed it, for she unhooked her arm after just a few steps. They both seemed relieved that Nulya was right there, turning to the horse eagerly.

  “She’s generally a quiet horse, until someone gets on her bad side,” Silvie said. “She can be quite the beast when needed.”

  “That’s perfect for Cleve.” Jessend reached out a hand to pet the side of the horse’s head.

  “They don’t bite?” Cleve asked.

  “Not usually,” Silvie answered, opening the gate to let out the massive white horse. “You’re not going to be riding her yet. It’s best for her to learn to trust you first.”

  Jessend put her hand on Silvie’s arm. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of time. Cleve has to learn how to ride as soon as possible.”

  Silvie’s thin lips twisted. “If it must be done, then fine. But I insist he at least walk her around the range and feed her before getting on her back.”

  Silvie waited for Jessend to nod in agreement before handing Cleve the reins. “Lead her around while you talk to her in a friendly manner,” Silvie said. “Make sure to let her know who’s in charge. She might try to veer away from you or get too far into your space, pushing against you with her head. Don’t let her or she might think you’re weak, unfit to ride her. She usually behaves after she’s gotten to know her rider. I’ll get some apples ready for you to feed her when you get back. She’ll trust you more quickly knowing you have access to apples.”

  The range was so big it took him ten minutes to get halfway across it. Most of that was from Nuly
a wanting to stop or change directions every few steps.

  Cleve found himself talking to her as he did his best to maintain control. “Why do you let people ride you? You’re huge. Do you like people…is that why?”

  It seemed strange that a horse would let someone on its back unless it wanted to. Although she gave no sign of understanding him, he continued.

  “Or do you just not know how to get someone off your back? How fast can you run? You must be able to throw people off you. Are you going to throw me off?” The horse whinnied, and it startled Cleve.

  He laughed at himself. “You scared me.”

  The horse whinnied again, this time softer. Cleve laughed once more, wondering if he really was having a conversation with the animal or if it was just a coincidence.

  When he turned around, Jessend was riding toward him. Her horse was going impressively fast, bouncing through the air.

  She stopped it right beside Cleve and the horse reared up, letting out a loud whinny. “How’s Nulya?”

  “Um.” Cleve couldn’t tell if her question was serious or not. “She’s a horse.”

  Jessend giggled. “Obviously. How do you like her?”

  “I think I like her.”

  Jessend hopped off her horse to walk beside Cleve, dragging her mount along her other side. “Isn’t Silvie cute?” She shot a look back at the stables.

  Cleve shrugged. “I guess.”

  “She’s really good with the horses. Her father was the stable master, but he passed away recently from an illness. She didn’t take it well, but she’s even better at hiding it than we are. Sometimes I wonder if she’s incapable of crying.”

  “I thought I might have been that way,” Cleve said. “But now I don’t believe anyone is.”

  After about an hour of Silvie and Jessend coaching him, Cleve was able to trot around the range on his own, his commands to Nulya becoming well understood.

  He even thought he was making quick progress until Lisanda came with Rek and the Elf was doing things with his horse that apparently neither Takary sister nor Silvie had ever seen before.