Gifted

by JoMarie DeGioia

  “Kelwin, your gift will help keep Rosemont safe,” he said at last. “I promise you’ll be able to keep your people fed and warm this winter without hurting anybody. But your gift can also help end the king’s tyranny and the Pageants for good.”

  “Okay, tell me what the hell the Pageants are already.”

  Malcolm sat down on the low wall, but Kelwin kept standing. He felt a wave of disgust come from Malcolm and knew in his gut he wasn’t going to like what he learned about the Pageants.

  “King Jerrus collects gifted children, Kelwin. The mentally and physically talented. Brains and Brawns, they’re called. Every month they’re pitted against each other in matches until one champion is declared. It’s painful and ugly and sometimes the kids die.”

  Kelwin felt a wave of nausea. “Every month?”

  “On the full moon. That means there’ll be another one in less than two weeks.”

  Kelwin sank down on the wall next to Malcolm. “That can’t be true. Every month?”

  “It is. It’s been going on for over fifteen years. I don’t even know how many children have been forced to participate over the years.” His eyes grew dark. “Or how many have died.”

  Kelwin was quiet for a minute. “You and my father protested these Pageants?”

  “Yes. In fact, on your father’s last trip to Lotherin he’d finally had enough.”

  “His last trip.” Kelwin breathed slowly through his mouth as the truth struck him. He’d suspected his father was silenced for his complaints about the high tariffs paid every harvest, but this was so much worse. “He was killed, wasn’t he?”

  Malcolm’s eyes told the truth even as he shook his head at him. “Kelwin, this isn’t the time to—”

  “He was killed, wasn’t he?” he asked again.

  “Yes.” Malcolm rubbed his eyes, then faced Kelwin again. “The king wanted to put you in the Pageants. He knew how gifted your father was and he wanted his son.”

  “They use noble kids, too?”

  “Not many, but even nobility doesn’t matter. Once a child is brought to the Pageants, they belong to the king.”

  Kelwin took a breath. “My father refused.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes. Needless to say, the king wasn’t pleased.”

  “So, the king had my father killed?” Remembered anguish struck him hard in the chest and he sucked in a breath. “Just because he wanted to keep me safe?”

  Malcolm nodded. “The king couldn’t let your father’s defiance stand. He’s a pompous ass who acts like a spoiled child himself. The court wants their entertainment and the Pageants are a monthly event the king will never give up.”

  Kelwin’s eyes burned and he wiped away his tears. “My father died because of me.”

  “No.”

  Malcolm touched his shoulder and instead of pain Kelwin felt a wave of warmth and comfort. It was like when his father had touched him. He’d gone without that feeling for so long. His throat tightened.

  “He died because of the king,” Malcolm finished.

  Kelwin nodded, then shook off Malcolm’s hand to stand again. “Where do they get the gifted kids? I can’t believe other parents would just give their kids to the king.”

  “They don’t. There are two men who work for Jerrus. They find challengers to compete. Children are bought or stolen, and they live beneath the castle like pets.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  Malcolm nodded. “They’re fed and clothed and treated well, except for what they go through in the Pageants.”

  “You said there are two guys who work for him.”

  “Yes. Lord Gregory, a big guy and former Pageant champion, finds the physically gifted kids. The other guy brings the Brains.”

  Kelwin knew then. He knew just what was after Alyssa and how horrible things could get for her in a minute. “Dalton.”

  Malcolm nodded again. “Dalton was in the pageants from the beginning, and now he brings kids to the king.”

  “And he wants Alyssa.”

  “She’s gifted,” Malcolm said. “I sensed it when we met tonight. She’s not aware of it though, is she?”

  Kelwin shook his head. “No. So that’s what you meant when you asked if she knew?”

  “Yes.”

  Kelwin considered what little he now knew about Lord Malcolm, and realized it outweighed any possible negatives he didn’t know at the moment. Taken with the comfort his touch gave, he believed he might be able to trust him.

  “She heard my thoughts,” he told him.

  Malcolm’s eyes were bright, even by the meager light of the half-moon. “When?”

  Kelwin flushed hot and looked away. “After we kissed.”

  “You’re connected to her.”

  Images flashed in his mind, memories of everything he’d experienced with Alyssa. From that first night at the harvest festival, when he’d felt her fear even when he didn’t know what it was. To that night in her room when he’d seen the source of her fear and tasted her lips with his own.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It feels like it, though.”

  It was Malcolm’s turn to be quiet. “Do you think she’d let me train her?” he finally asked.

  “No way. She won’t even think about being gifted, Malcolm. She gets pissed if I even suggest it. There’s no way she’d ever agree to train.”

  “Her gift must be very strong if Dalton wants her, Kelwin. He and Lord Gregory constantly try to up the other in the eyes of the king. She would be a very valuable find.”

  Kelwin’s hands fisted as hot anger filled his chest. “Well, I won’t let him have her!”

  Malcolm smiled. “Good.” He stood. “We’ll let the subject of her training drop for now. I just want to know that you’ll do everything to keep your family safe. To keep Alyssa safe.”

  Kelwin let Malcolm’s conviction fill him now. “I will.”

  Chapter 12

  The walls closed in on Dalton, but it wasn’t completely distasteful. He’d spent five long years here, closed away from court except for his participation in the Pageants. The hallways were narrow, lit by many electric lights set high in the walls. Whitewashed walls, thick carpets and paintings on the walls made the place seem like the hall of a fine estate in many ways. And in just as many it seemed like the prison it was.

  There were no windows down here. He squinted at the artificial light, remembering clearly the first night he’d spent with the other gifted kids. If Jerrus knew what went on among the kids, he’d consider bringing the nobles down to watch. The posturing, the shuffling for domination. It could get as brutal as it was in the Pageant ring itself.

  He’d been fifteen and as ready for a challenge as any of the rest of them then. He smiled to himself. On more than one occasion he’d been lucky enough to meet Gregory or some other cocky bastard in the next Pageant. He was always careful to keep his true talents a secret down here in the cells, though.

  During the daytime hours, doors were allowed to be kept open. After lights-out, it was a different matter. There was to be no fraternizing among the Brains or the Brawns, although that rule was broken often enough.

  “Lord Dalton!” a little girl called weakly.

  He put a smile on his face. This was the child Gregory’s Brawn had decimated in the last Pageant. He rounded the corner and stopped in her open door. The room, decorated in a riot of colors, was full of dolls and stuffed animals. He made arrangements for another doll to be delivered, this one looking a lot like her with blond braids and big blue eyes. She clutched it in her arms.

  “Hello, dear girl.” He couldn’t remember her name and didn’t really care to.

  “Hello, Baron.” She was a little thing, and looked even smaller in her plush bed.

  “I trust you’re feeling better?”

  Her face was pale but her eyes sparkled. “I’m getting better.”

  He ran his eyes over her. Her arms looked small on the thick quilt and her legs were like sticks. Her lounging clothes were yell
ow, the colors always wore by the Brains in the Pageants. Her Pageant wear didn’t bear any Champion patches yet, though. If she didn’t recover, they never would.

  “You’re eating?” he asked her.

  She nodded, her eyes drifting closed. “I’m not very hungry, though.”

  He stepped into her room and sat on a bright pink cushioned chair near the bed. “You have to eat. I know I stress the mind when we train but you have to take care of the body, too.” He leaned closer. “Don’t let the Brawns eat everything.”

  She giggled softly and opened her eyes again. “I’ll try.”

  He stood. “Very well. I’ll check on you again before I leave Lotherin.”

  “Do you live very far from court, Lord Dalton?”

  He smiled. “Far enough.”

  Her brows drew together. “Oh.”

  He easily deflected her disappointment. He didn’t foster emotional attachment between his Brains and himself. It made for messy entanglements and undue dependence. He needed their loyalty, not their love.

  “Take care of yourself.” He patted her hand, then withdrew. “I’ll stop by soon.”

  He left her room quickly, ignoring the pleading in her eyes. Why did the children think he was looking to be their father, for God’s sake? He did just fine without a parent before coming to court and he was fine while living in the cells. He didn’t need the children for more than what they could do for him in the Pageants.

  “Lord Dalton!” a boy called as he ran from his room.

  This child was thirteen years old, dark-skinned and one of his most promising. He wasn’t a large child but Dalton had high hopes for his mental acuity. He also wore yellow. Dalton knew his Pageant garb boasted several Champion patches. He planned on adding another soon. He needed one of his children to win and win stunningly.

  You look well. His thoughts went to the child, sliding easily into his mind.

  I’m ready for the next Pageant. The boy was secure in his victory. Dalton took that as a good sign.

  “Very good,” he said out loud. “We’ll train more this evening.”

  The boy beamed at him. He ruffled the boy’s curling brown hair and continued on his way. He passed through several cells, sliding his mind into every room to gauge the emotional energy there. There were several he’d have to train in the coming week, and he relished it. They had to learn to merge their talent with his if they were to be successful. While there were a few who had powers approaching Alyssa’s there were none as strong as himself. He thought of delaying training of the little hurt girl. There was no way around it. She was too fragile to withstand the prodding and probing he employed in training.

  Pain was a natural result of his work in the training rooms set in the middle of the children’s quarters. His children’s pain, not his own. He pushed them until they were very close to their breaking point. Then he flooded their heads with relief, earning the gratitude and loyalty he needed for them to succeed.

  Every hall led to the fitness and conference rooms and each child spent some part of their day working on their talents. He’d been remiss in his work since getting rid of Alyssa’s father and taking over Merrickwood. He saw that now. He would have to be much more attentive to his duties at court. Gregory’s victory at the last Pageant taught him that.

  Brawns were quartered nearby too, of course. Three of them lounged about in a common room he passed, their large bodies and small brains taking their ease as they absently tossed a small leather ball around. When they saw him that ceased their play. Two of them hauled their hulking frames out of their chairs and bowed.

  “Lord Dalton,” the two said, almost in unison.

  Dalton eyed one of them, a very large boy who didn’t rise and bow to him.

  “Hello, Baron,” he said.

  There was an edge of something other than respect in his voice. Gregory must not have impressed upon this dolt that he was to be shown as much deference as the Brawn’s master.

  “What’s your name, boy?” he asked.

  The boy didn’t stand in his presence, either. “Dolph.”

  Dalton stared into his eyes, sending a sensation of icy cold into his mind. Dolph’s dark eyes opened wide, then he began to blink rapidly. Soon tears welled in his eyes. Loneliness grabbed at him with sharp, cold claws, just as Dalton had planned. Dalton wanted him to feel desolation in the cells. He knew that would curb Dolph’s bravado and make him an easy competitor should Gregory put him against his Brains in the next Pageant.

  “You okay, Dolph?” another boy asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice thick. He slowly came to his feet, his head bowed. “I’m gonna go to my room.”

  Dalton stood in his way, forcing him to stop. He raised his head to meet Dalton’s gaze. He saw that the cocky boy was deeply sad now. Dalton hid a smile.

  “Have a pleasant evening, Dolph,” he said.

  He nodded. “Thank you, Baron.”

  He stumbled down the hall toward a cell several open doors away. Throwing a nod at the other two Brawns, Dalton left the cells and headed toward the staircase that would bring him out of the suffocating rooms below and back up to the great hall. He shook off his own memories of his confinement and looked toward an evening of drinking the king’s fine wine and eating the king’s fine food gained through the tariffs from the other barons.

  All but him, of course. Merrickwood was allowed to keep all it reaped this year. And when he brought Alyssa back to court with him?

  There was nothing King Jerrus would refuse him.

  ***

  “It hurts,” Kelwin muttered, his eyes squeezed shut.

  This was his first training session with Lord Malcolm, and he couldn’t fight off the nausea and pain the effort caused him. The hall faded from his notice, and the table was a fleeting impression beneath his fisted hands.

  “Relax your shoulders,” Lord Malcolm said. “The release of tension will aid your gift and ease the pain.”

  Kelwin struggled to follow his orders. He felt like he was being pulled as tight as his crossbow’s string. “I…can’t.”

  Pain radiated from the top of his head down his neck and over his shoulders. His breath hissed out through his clenched teeth as his heart began to pound.

  “Breathe, Kelwin,” Malcolm said. Breathe. Nice and easy.

  Kelwin heard his advice in his head and forced himself to breathe slowly. Immediately the pain eased a little, which encouraged him to increase his focus on relaxing. His neck muscles seemed to unknot and his stomach soon settled.

  Can you hear me? Malcolm’s thoughts felt cautious and tentative. Kelwin knew the man didn’t want to hurt him. That certainty went a long way toward earning his trust.

  I can. The family no longer sat at the table. They’d surrendered the space to Lord Malcolm. Kelwin ignored the curious looks from both Donnic and Alyssa. He put the two of them out of his head for the moment, focusing on Malcolm’s thoughts. The breathing helped.

  Your gift shouldn’t cause you pain. Once you master your talent, you’ll be able to control when you use it.

  This shocked him. “What?”

  Malcolm was smiling. “We’re talking now?”

  Kelwin managed a smile. All right, I’ll play along.

  Good. There was the impression of a smile in Malcolm’s thoughts. Do you feel any pain right now?

  Kelwin took a mental inventory of his muscles. The pain in his head was a dull ache and his neck wasn’t tight anymore. His stomach was settled, too. No pain now.

  Very good. So what’s going on between you and the Merrick girl?

  Kelwin knew he was testing his reaction. Well, what he felt for Alyssa was confusing but he wouldn’t let that distract him from his training. If Malcolm could help him like he promised, he had to focus.

  What’s with you flirting with my mother?

  “What?”

  Kelwin laughed. “Made you lose your focus, didn’t I?”

  Malcolm smiled, placing his hands on the table. “
I suppose that’s enough for now.”

  Kelwin rubbed the back of his neck. “You really think I can stop the raids?”

  “Your gift is very strong, Kelwin. I felt it from the first time I met you.”

  Kelwin had no choice but to take him at his word. His father had never tried to train him. Maybe he didn’t know there was a way to prevent the pain Kelwin always seemed to feel when his gift acted up.

  “I appreciate your help.”

  “It’s not completely altruistic, you know.”

  Kelwin nodded. “Yeah. You want to stop the Pageants.”

  “And you will, too. You haven’t seen them, Kelwin. Trust me, you’re very fortunate in that regard.” Malcolm rose. “I believe I’ll go join the ladies at the hearth.”

  Kelwin watched him go. His mother smiled up at him as he sat across from her. He didn’t really think Malcolm was flirting with his mother but it felt good to joke with his mind. It hadn’t hurt, either.

  Alyssa sat on one of the benches near the hearth, holding Thomas in her lap as she read to him. The little boy leaned back against her, his eyelids heavy. She must have been reading him a bedtime story. Love radiated off of the two of them. She raised her head and met Kelwin’s gaze.

  Once again he felt her curiosity. How could he explain what was going on with him and Malcolm? He wasn’t even sure himself, but it was very important.

  It felt like everything relied on his learning to properly use his gift. If his talent was as strong as Malcolm insisted it was, it would be a valuable weapon when the raids came.

  He doubted anything he could do could help end the Pageants, though. That was Malcolm’s mission, not his. He wanted just one thing.

  He looked over at Alyssa and his mother and sister. He wanted to keep the people he cared about safe.

  Chapter 13

  “What’s he want with Kelwin anyway?”

  Alyssa shrugged at Donnic’s question. They both watched Kelwin in deep conversation with Lord Malcolm at the family table. Again. Over the past week they’d had their heads together often, at pretty much any time of the day. Chelsey and Lady Jayne seemed confused by it too, but Alyssa didn’t want to open up the subject with them. It really wasn’t her business, was it?