Wrath Games

by B. T. Narro

I felt a deep sadness. There was no reason this gentle woman needed to be wasting away.

  “Are you the warden?” Laney asked him.

  “I am.”

  “I don’t want to thank you, but I suppose my life could’ve been worse if you hadn’t allowed those guards to speak to me.”

  “I’m not sure how to respond.”

  “I think I hate you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, but I also like you.”

  “I see.”

  “I hope I never see you again.” She scrunched her mouth and glanced at my face next. A smile slowly curled her lips. Her eyes squinted shut and a whimper squeezed out as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so happy!”

  “Come on,” Jaymes urged. “We’re going back to the castle.”

  Laney gasped. “I get to see the castle?”

  “As long as you follow my orders and prove you can fight, you’ll be living there while you train.”

  She broke into sobs again and couldn’t move for a long while.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It seemed to be a constant effort for Laney to hold in her tears. She clutched her chest and gasped at the sight of our horses, a smile lifting the corners of her gaping mouth. She reached out tentatively to pet mine.

  “Laney.” She jumped at the sound of the commander’s voice. “You’re riding with me.”

  “Can I use py?”

  “Not until I say so.”

  “But I only have one arm. How am I supposed to get up there with you?”

  He held out his hand, but she was even more nervous about touching him than the horse.

  “Let’s go, recruit!”

  She whimpered, shutting her eyes and putting her hand over her face. A wail followed. It reminded me of a child stubbing her toe.

  “Why are you yelling at me?”

  “You’re about to go back in that cell if you don’t stop crying and get on my horse!”

  Laney puddled to the ground, her loud wails drawing the gaze of everyone nearby.

  “She’s fragile,” I said. “Give her some time before you start yelling.”

  “That’s another five pits off your salary!” he screamed at me.

  I held in a scoff.

  Shara helped Laney up. Although the two women were nearly the same height and Shara was already thin, Laney made her look heavy in comparison. Shara wrapped her arms around Laney’s delicate body.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Laney muttered.

  “It’s all right,” Shara said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes the commander’s loud. Try to be brave.”

  Laney’s arm came around Shara’s back, clutching at her shirt. “I’ll try.”

  “Can she ride with me?” Shara asked Jaymes.

  But Laney shook her head and pointed at me. “I want to ride with him.”

  “I’m not as skilled of a—”

  “Just get her on your saddle, Neeko,” Jaymes demanded. “We’ve wasted enough time getting one recruit.”

  A big smile brightened her face as she hopped toward me with surprising excitement. She raised her one arm. I took hold of her hand from the saddle, then lifted her with ease as she jumped. She swung her leg around, fitting easily behind me and wrapping her arm around my stomach. But then she started to shake as she laughed, squeezing me hard and startling the horse.

  “Stop,” I said, pulling on the reins to keep Vkar from rearing up.

  “Sorry, I’m just so excited. I feel like I’m about to be married!”

  This woman is half mad. No wonder Effie and Terren didn’t take her.

  I felt a strange rubbing on my back as we rode. I asked her, “What are you doing?”

  “My forehead itches and I’m not allowed to use py to scratch it. You’re so strong.” She pushed her hand against my stomach. “I like you. Can I kiss you?”

  “Um.”

  “I’ve never kissed a boy. They don’t like girls with one arm.”

  I glanced over to see if Shara and the commander had overheard us. She smirked while he shook his head. Yes, they could hear us.

  “Not right now while I’m steering the horse.” I pitied Laney too much to deny her completely. What was one kiss?

  I felt her shifting in the saddle as she looked around. “There are so many people right outside the prison. It’s so sad I couldn’t speak to any of them. I don’t understand why I can’t use py. But I’m going to be able to again, right?” She gasped. Her voice fell to a whisper, “Am I going back to prison when this war is done?”

  Gods, I hadn’t thought of that. What would happen to her? Whatever it was, it likely would happen to me as well.

  “That’s a good question, Laney,” I admitted.

  We’d removed the neck protectors before getting on our mounts, which I soon regretted because she started kissing the back of my neck. Laney was a terrible kisser, practically biting me with her lips, not that I was in a mood to enjoy it if she’d been any better.

  “Stop,” I whispered.

  “It feels so good.” She let out a sigh as she pushed her cheek against my back. “I can’t wait until you kiss me.”

  Luckily, she seemed to forget about me the moment we arrived inside the castle and she saw the plates of meats, cheeses, fruits, and potatoes on the two long tables in the great hall.

  “So much food!” She looked terrified, like she was staring at a ghost.

  “Eat as much as you can,” Jaymes offered. “We need you healthy for battle, and you have a lot of weight to gain.”

  She ran to the nearest table and didn’t bother sitting or grabbing a plate. She went for the meat first, clawing at it to rip off a hunk. But it just slid across the table as she pulled it. “I can’t without py!” she complained, tears burgeoning.

  “No py. Neeko, help her. Keep her here until I get back. Shara, come with me.”

  The commander left without saying how long he’d be. Shara shrugged at me and hurried after him.

  I made Laney a plate of food that had a little of everything. She ate fistfuls of potatoes as I cut her meat. A few people were scattered about the tables, all of them taking turns staring at us until I stared back.

  I figured lunch was nearly over. Everything was cold and picked at but Laney didn’t mind, moaning with delight as she chewed like a drunken fool.

  Every now and again she’d grin at me and chuckle. Eventually, she tried to touch my face with her greasy hand. I leaned out of her reach.

  “I like looking at you,” she said.

  “Thank you.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

  Her smile slowly faded. She gazed down at her lap, then at her one arm, then her shoulders, and finally over to the gentle curve of her breasts. Her mouth opened in horror.

  “Oh my gods,” she whispered. “Oh my gods. Oh my gods!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so embarrassed. Look at me. No, don’t. I don’t want anyone to see me.” She threw a chair out of her way and broke into a sprint. I was right behind her.

  “Wait, Laney.”

  Her leg gave out after three steps, planting her knee into the stone floor. She hissed and grabbed it, then started to wail again like a child.

  “Take me out of here!” she pleaded, desperate and utterly incapable. “Please! Please! Please!”

  I could feel the glares of everyone in the great hall. Not knowing what else to do, I scooped her up and ran all the way to my room with her wailing in my arms.

  She didn’t stop crying when I got there, even when I closed my door and told her everything would be fine. That was all I had to offer and it had done nothing. Now I really began to panic.

  “I’m so embarrassed, so embarrassed!” she shrieked.

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t even think about the way I look until now…and I’m hideous.”

  She didn’t smell like flowers, either, but that was the last thing I’d mention. “You’re not.”

  She wasn’t convinced. Lan
ey found my mirror and started toward it. I reached out to grab her hand only to realize I was on her left side and there was no hand to grab. Figuring her threadbare shirt would rip in my grasp, I was too late getting my arm around her shoulder. She’d seen herself.

  A quick glimpse was all it took. She cried out and buried her head in my chest.

  My door unlocked and opened. Henry came through.

  “Not now!” I yelled to be heard over Laney’s weeps.

  He put up his hands apologetically, stepped in, and shut the door behind him.

  I tried to ignore Henry as I embraced Laney. “You’re not hideous. You just look as one would expect having been in that cell for three years. No one is going to pass judgment for that. You’ll eat, have your hair cut, take a warm bath, and look just like your old self—better than your old self,” I added.

  Her crying stopped but only until she unraveled from the hold of my arms and took another look at the mirror. After that she became inconsolable.

  Soon my door flew open to reveal the army commander. A plump woman with kind features came around from behind him.

  “Laney, can you come here?” she asked in a gentle tone.

  The young woman pushed her face against my chest, her one arm clutching my back tightly.

  “Neeko,” Jaymes said. “Bring her here.”

  “I’m going to kill myself if they’re taking me back,” she whispered, too quiet for anyone but me to hear.

  “They’re not taking you back. They want to help you.” I wasn’t sure of this, but I hoped with all I had that it was true.

  She twisted her neck just enough for a peek at the woman. “Are you nice?”

  “Very. Come here, dear. Let me give you a hug.”

  Laney bawled as she ran into the women’s open arms.

  She stroked Laney’s matted hair. “I want to show you to your own room, which you can leave whenever you want. No one is going to lock you anywhere. I’m going to make sure you’re well taken care of. How does that sound?”

  Laney sniffled. “Good.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  It was silent as we waited for them to leave, the commander showing me no expression.

  “Please don’t put her back in prison,” I said.

  “I heard what happened in the great hall. The woman’s troubled, more so than I first realized. We’re giving her a week with Mayla. That should be enough time for her to adjust.” He seemed reluctant to say more.

  “And if it isn’t?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  I’d begun to recognize when prying would get me nothing but a deduction from my salary. Now seemed like one of those times.

  “Eat a quick lunch,” Jaymes said. “Your training begins soon.”

  The commander brought me to the northern inner courtyard, where I could see the balcony of the king’s quarters and, more importantly, the balcony of Swenn’s quarters beside it, about fifteen feet from the ground. Eizle had found a way onto that balcony. I would as well.

  It turned out that Jaymes had meant “training” loosely. Instead, he tried to learn what my limits were with the energy. As we stood alone in the vast courtyard he indicated ten wooden blocks, which he told me weighed fifty pounds each, sitting in a perfect line against the castle wall.

  “Show me how much you can lift,” he said, giving no further instruction.

  I walked until I was close enough to touch the first block. I wrapped the clear energy around it and, in one motion, squeezed it tightly to get a firm grip. Then I braced myself and hoisted it up to about the height of my knees. It took about the same effort as a push-up. I slid the energy down beneath it, forming the py into an even bed so the block would remain steady, the feeling not much different than holding myself up by my arms in the push-up position.

  I moved the bed of py carrying the block of wood over atop the next nearest block, then carefully lowered it until the py was squeezed between the two. Then I let the energy be free and it scattered apart like a disrupted steam cloud, the blocks coming together with a soft thunk.

  I did the same with four more blocks, creating a tower of six in about a tenth of the time it would’ve taken any man to lift them with his back and arms. The top of the tallest block was a good foot higher than I could reach, but getting it there wasn’t nearly as difficult as what I had planned next.

  Jaymes had asked me to show him how much I could lift, and I would.

  I stood close to the corner of the small tower of blocks and took a few breaths, preparing my mind and body for the exertion.

  “You’ve done this before, I hope” Jaymes commented. He must’ve realized what I was about to do.

  “Yes.”

  In the span of a heartbeat, I pulled all the energy I would need into a sphere. It hovered between me and the tower, blurring the appearance of the wood. I broke it down the center, then stretched each piece into a long, thin line that was my height.

  I enclosed the energy around opposite sides of the tower, careful to press both firmly and at even force. Just holding so much energy against its will felt like I was sprinting. My breaths quickened and my chest started to burn, but the worst was yet to come.

  I pressed harder and harder, the blocks squeaking as py squeezed against them. I needed the movement of my hand for this, both actually. I raised them up, a groan escaping because of the terrible strain of lifting the tower as high as my waist. I held it there for the span of three short breaths until I couldn’t keep it afloat any longer. I used my last bit of strength to push the tower away from me, ensuring it wouldn’t topple my way and crack my skull. The blocks of wood crashed against each other with a grinding sound like a house collapsing.

  “Three hundred pounds—can’t lift more than that?”

  Was he serious? The commander had his arms folded, unimpressed. Just staying on my feet was an effort as I tried to regain my breath without appearing weak.

  “No, that’s it.”

  “How many blocks could you lift from where I’m standing?”

  I had a bad feeling he would tell me to show him as soon as I gave the answer. He was about ten yards from the scattered tower.

  “Two,” I said.

  “Show me.”

  “Damn.”

  After I did it, he told me to lift two blocks at the same time.

  I warned him, “I don’t have any practice lifting two heavy objects at once.”

  “Let me see you try.”

  I gave it three attempts but couldn’t keep two of them afloat without stacking them. It wasn’t that the strain was too much on my mind. It was the complexity of getting py around both blocks at once. The py surrounding one block would always shift over toward the one that took my focus. It felt like trying to move one toe without the others. I figured I could with practice.

  “I can lift three pebbles at once,” I told him. “But that’s because they’re light.”

  “If you can lift a stack of six blocks, and you can lift three pebbles at once, then you can lift two blocks at once. I want to see you do it by the end of the day tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jaymes grabbed the steel helmet at his feet and put it over his head. He attached vambraces to both his arms next. Last were his gloves. By the time he was done, no skin showed. He drew his sword from its sheath.

  “Disarm me.” His voice was muffled from behind the helmet.

  I didn’t have the strength Eizle had possessed. I vividly recalled him ripping swords out of enemies’ hands. One man had managed to hold on, yet the force of Eizle’s pull had dragged the man across the ground for a whole yard. I would have to be clever instead.

  Jaymes had both hands in a firm grip on his longsword. “Come on!” He waved it back and forth, making it even more difficult for me.

  I gathered a small cloud of pyforial energy and moved it close to his weapon. I was certain he couldn’t see it; he barely could see anything through the slit in his helmet. In one quick motion
, I wrapped the py around the tip of his sword and pulled with all my might.

  The sword fell sideways, the awkward and sudden force twisting the commander’s wrists as far as they could go. The weapon slipped from his grasp. Still in control of the energy, I willed the sword toward me. It hurried over, its hilt dragging on the grass.

  I let it rest by my feet and tried not to let my face show how smug I felt.

  Jaymes flipped up the covering of his helmet. “Can you pull the sword straight out of my hands without twisting it like that?”

  “Probably not when you’re using all of your strength to keep hold of it.”

  “Take me off my feet.” He crouched in a fighter’s stance. “Do it now.”

  I surprised him with a forceful sideways tug at his back leg, then wrapped the energy around his ankle and pulled while he was already off balance. He stumbled and fell, his armor banging.

  He got up, threw off his vambraces, his helmet, and even his breastplate, his face completely indifferent throughout the long process. “Again.”

  I took out the same leg in the exact same way.

  He jumped up. “Again.”

  I playfully pushed against his chest with the energy. He stumbled backward and swatted at it as if it were a wasp. I moved it around behind him as his hands wildly searched for it, then shoved him, not hard but with enough force to knock most people over. He stumbled forward and spun around, trying to grab the energy that he barely could see. But I’d already moved it toward his ankle, wrapped it around, and pulled. He fell.

  When he got up again, he moved a bit farther from me. “Now try.”

  He was about five yards this time, and it was only slightly more difficult to knock him off his feet three more times.

  I started to have trouble at ten yards, requiring much more strength to wrestle him down.

  At fifteen yards, I could only get him down once in ten attempts. I was exhausted by then, but Jaymes wasn’t done with me.

  “It’s been determined that the mage who tried to kill the king got into his room through the balcony. It’s assumed he used py to lift himself onto it from this very courtyard after first lifting himself over the outer wall. Can you do the same, recruit?”

  I wanted to tell the commander that Eizle wasn’t trying to kill the king. Swenn was the target—a man who had murdered my mother, tried to have me arrested, murdered his own brother, and probably had done countless other despicable acts. Somewhere locked in my memories was the image of Swenn stabbing Eizle over and over, blood splattering onto his clothes, a sickening sound as it splashed onto a nearby table. I pushed back the memory to the shuttered recesses of my mind.