Warrior of the Wild

by Tricia Levenseller

  I beam at him, proud of my student. “How did he do?” I ask, turning to Soren.

  Soren is looking at me so strangely, the smile falls from my face. “What?”

  “I’ve never seen you smile like that before. You have a lovely smile.”

  Lovely.

  That word has my throat tightening, bile threatening to come up.

  Even with the cut, you’re still lovely. How do you manage that?

  Another boy once called me lovely. A boy who regarded me as an insect, offering me food to draw me in with one hand while preparing to squash me with the other.

  “That’s enough swimming for the day,” I say, the words coming out flat. I haul myself out of the water, grab my things, and plunge into the wild.

  * * *

  WHEN THE BOYS RETURN from the lake, I’ve already changed and braided my hair out of my face. I open the door in the floor, staring down at the two boys that are still very wet. I wonder if Iric pushed Soren in.

  “Stay where you are,” I say as Iric tries to grab a branch.

  “Why?” he asks.

  I’ve thought about this the whole time I walked back alone to the tree house. I had to think of something to keep my thoughts away from Torrin.

  “We’re going to complete our mattugrs,” I start, but Soren butts in.

  “We are?”

  “Yes, you missed that conversation. But we are. And if we’re going to help each other, we need to trust each other. Right now, Iric, you don’t trust Soren. Or at least you’re still holding too much against him.”

  Iric shoots an incredulous look up at me. “Of course I’m holding things against him! He is the reason I’m banished!”

  “No,” I argue. “You got yourself banished. You should have trusted Aros and taken the trial for the profession you wanted.”

  Iric’s glare is murderous. “Just like you trusted your friend?”

  Oh, that one hurts. I trusted Iric with what happened at my trial, and now he’s throwing it in my face.

  I slam the trapdoor shut and sit on it.

  “What are you doing?” Soren asks.

  “Neither of you is coming up here until you talk through your problems!” I shout.

  “She can’t be serious,” Iric says.

  I’m dead serious. Earlier today, Iric needed a gentler hand to help and encourage him while swimming. But this? This is something he needs to face head-on. And I don’t care if he’s angry about it.

  There’s pressure against the trapdoor as someone tries pushing against it. Probably Iric.

  At the angle he has to shove, he’s not moving the door anywhere.

  “Dammit, Rasmira! Move it!”

  “No!”

  “Get out of the way or I swear on your goddess that I won’t make you new armor!”

  “Iric, you idiot! I’m doing this for you. You want to go home. We all do. You’re not going to accomplish that if you keep holding so much over Soren’s head.”

  “You expect me to suddenly forgive him because you won’t let me inside my own house?”

  “No, I expect you to talk. What happens after that is up to you. But I won’t let your problems stand in the way of us going home.”

  He growls up at me, but I don’t move. Eventually, I hear the sounds of Iric climbing back down.

  “Soren, make her let us in!” Iric screams.

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Flash that winning smile or bat those long lashes or something.”

  “First, she wouldn’t see me bat my lashes from here, and second—”

  “This is your fault! You brought her here, and now she’s stolen our home!”

  They quiet as they hear me moving about the house, hauling things around.

  “Is she—” Soren starts.

  “She’s moving the mattress over the top of the trapdoor! You are not keeping us out here all night long, Rasmira.”

  “That’s entirely up to you,” I say, plumping up my pillow before finding a comfy position.

  “What do we do?” Iric asks. “Shatter the window? Or we could wait her out. There’s not that much food up there. She’s got to piss sometime.”

  A beat of silence. “Is the idea of talking to me really so unbearable that you’re suggesting we lay siege to our tree house?” Soren says gruffly.

  “You know what? Fine. FINE! Soren, I forgive you. There. Happy, Rasmira? I said I forgive him. Now let us up.”

  I don’t bother responding to that pathetic attempt.

  “That’s not enough for you?” Iric demands. “You need me to mean it, too? I can’t force that. That’s not how it works!”

  I don’t know why Iric thinks he can reason with me at this point, but he keeps trying.

  “I told you what he did! He made me think I could be a warrior! He made me believe I could have Aros forever if I took the trial with him. He promised he’d have my back during the trial, and you know what? He didn’t. How do I forgive that?”

  I can imagine Soren wincing after every accusation. After a beat of silence, he says softly, “Iric, I’m so sorry. I can’t fix it. I did what I did. I was confident. Too confident, and I got us both stuck out here. I did the best I could after the fact. I failed my trial on purpose so you wouldn’t be left alone out here. You’re my brother, and from now on, I swear to always have your back.”

  “How can I believe that? How can I trust you?”

  “Because I’ve changed. Because I’ve spent every day in the wild looking after you, excluding the fact that I now owe a life debt to Rasmira. But she’s our friend now. She’s on our side. And she’s changing things. She’s helping us go home. Is a whole year of penance on my part not enough for you? What more can I do?”

  More silence, and I find that I’m holding my breath.

  “I want it to go away. All of it,” Iric says. “No more struggling to stay alive. I miss the village. I miss our family. I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

  “I do, too,” Soren says.

  “I’ve spent so much time being angry.”

  “You don’t have to be angry. Not anymore. Now we have hope.”

  Iric is quiet for so long, I wonder if perhaps he left. Then quietly, so quietly I can barely hear it, Iric says, “I’m sorry, Soren. I’m sorry I’ve spent so much time hating you instead of being your brother and helping us go home.”

  And with those words, I move the mattress back to its former position. The boys come up top. Iric starts shucking his wet clothes and throwing them at me. I’m torn between averting my eyes and catching the heavy garments before they strike my head.

  When Iric is turned, Soren mouths, Thank you.

  I fall asleep with the most profound sense of contentment. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a good leader.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Iric’s swimming lessons take precedence over all else. We still have to feed ourselves, of course. The wood gets chopped, the traps get checked, the berries are picked—but with that done, it’s off to the pools. Day after day after day.

  Soren continues to come with, though he mostly serves as a silent guard off to the side.

  “You know,” Iric says, “I can’t tell if Soren comes to watch me or to watch you.”

  We’re both in the water. Iric is flat on his back, and I’ve got my arms held out in front of me, tucked under him, helping him float.

  “You, of course,” I say. “He wants you to succeed. He’s here to support you.”

  “Or to see you in sopping wet clothes every day.”

  “Iric, I will drop you.”

  “Come on, Raz. You know I’m kidding.” He reaches up a hand and ruffles my hair with it, sending droplets down my face. “I think he comes because he likes seeing you in your element.”

  “My element?”

  “You know, bossing people around? Kidding again! I mean, leading. Teaching. You’re a born leader. Didn’t you say that’s what you were training to be? The nex
t leader of Seravin? It shows.”

  “Yes, but I was never any good at it. Nobody ever listened to me. I never had the respect of the trainees back home.”

  “Did you treat them the way you treat us?”

  We reach the end of the small pool, so I turn Iric in a half circle and start walking toward the other end. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, did you encourage them? Offer to help them in the areas they were lacking? Did you give out quick and efficient orders whenever you were in a crisis? Like we were with the gunda.”

  I try to swallow past a sudden knot in my throat.

  No, I didn’t do any of those things. When the boys made mistakes, I pointed them out. When they were horrible to me, I put them in their places. During training exercises, they never listened to my instructions, so I stopped giving them. Instead, I took the lead and expected them to follow my example.

  “I didn’t treat them the way I treat you and Soren. They weren’t ever kind to me the way you are.”

  Iric tries to turn his body toward me before he remembers he’s supposed to be holding still and floating. “Maybe they needed you to be the bigger person and make the first move to change things.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Could we talk about something else?”

  Iric looks up at the cloud-covered sky. “Sure. Oh! Want to get a reaction out of Soren?”

  “What?”

  “Pull me closer.”

  I bend my elbows, tugging Iric near my chest. He gives me a devilish grin before reaching forward and tucking a strand of my hair behind one ear.

  At first, the motion sends goose bumps along my skin—and not pleasant ones. Torrin would touch my hair this way and—

  But then there’s a sound, and Iric and I both turn our heads. Soren has dropped his whetstone onto the rocks. He bends down to retrieve it, and when he looks back up, he’s got a glare fixed on Iric.

  Iric lets out a low laugh. “Priceless.”

  “That’s not funny,” I snap. I take my arms back and cross them over my chest.

  “Just because Soren and I are working on things, that doesn’t mean I don’t get to provoke him. Besides, he knows you’re not my type, so the fact that he’s getting worked up only makes it funnier!”

  “You are a horrible person and—” I break off as I realize Iric is drifting away from me. “You’re floating.”

  “What do you think we’ve been doing for the last half hour?”

  “No, you’re floating on your own!”

  “I am? I am!” Iric fumbles for a moment, as though knowing I’m not there suddenly throws him off balance, but he quickly rights himself, and continues floating. “Soren! I’m floating! Look!”

  But shouting seems to have been too much for Iric, for he goes under in the next second. I step through the water as quickly as possible to reach him, but Iric gets his feet under him before I get there.

  When he breaches the surface, it’s to hear Soren laughing at him.

  Iric pulls himself out of the water and flies at Soren, tackling him with his soaking body. Then he’s pulling on him, trying to force him into one of the pools.

  “Raz, I could use some help!”

  We’re supposed to be learning how to swim, but what the hell.

  I get myself behind Soren and push.

  “No!” Soren shrieks.

  Too late. We fling him into one of the midsized pools, armor and skins and all. He was smart enough to drop his ax before it got too close to the pool.

  Iric was able to let go in time, but me? Soren clamps a hand down on my arm and pulls me in with him.

  I kick to the surface and glare at Iric. “This is what I get for helping you? You abandon me?”

  “I have swimming to practice,” he says innocently before taking off for the pool we’d been using.

  Soren stands next to me, the water reaching up to our shoulders. Good thing, since he still has all his armor on. A calculated decision on Iric’s part, I’m sure. He didn’t want to drown his friend, only drench him.

  “Traitor,” Soren says to me.

  “I don’t owe you any loyalty.”

  “I saved you from Peruxolo! That doesn’t earn me any loyalty?”

  “No.” I raise my arm and send a wave of water crashing onto his head.

  He glares at me for a moment, before watching Iric try to float in the far-off pool some more. I’m amazed and proud of Iric’s confidence in the water alone.

  “I’ve never seen him like this,” Soren says. “It’s a nice change.” With a smile on his lips, Soren turns from Iric to me.

  With Soren standing so close to me, I remember just how close in height we are. Our eyes are on par with each other. Our noses.

  Our mouths.

  I’m startled by the thought. Where in the world did it come from? Soren has always had a mouth, obviously. But now I’m noticing it as an individual entity.

  His lips look so soft, a stark contrast to the rest of his muscled body.

  If Soren notices a change in my demeanor, he doesn’t show it. No, he sucks in a big gulp of air and goes under the water. I watch his body closely, trying to figure out what he’s doing. A hand darts in my direction, and I realize too late—

  I’m sucked under.

  I send a punch Soren’s way. It doesn’t gather much force underwater, but it’s enough to make him release me.

  We both breach the surface.

  “You ass.”

  He laughs again.

  I jump, get my hands on either side of his shoulders, and push back. He might have been stable enough to withstand me without the armor, but with?

  His armor drags him down.

  He sinks rapidly to the bottom. It takes him some time to get his feet under him to drag the extra weight to the surface. He rubs water from his eyes, which are no longer filled with mischief.

  The smallest of smiles rests at the corner of his lips, and I realize then that I’d almost forgotten what it was to have fun. Strange that Soren, a boy from the wild, should help me to remember.

  “Truce?” he asks.

  “For today.” I return to Iric and monitor his progress.

  * * *

  IN ANOTHER WEEK, Iric is swimming. He’s by no means a strong swimmer, but he knows how to float both on his back and stomach. He can paddle himself through the water and even manage big strokes above it. The most important improvement, however, is his confidence.

  That lack of fear, his ability to put his head under the water and hold his breath without worry, it bolsters him. Gives him a sense of freedom he didn’t have before.

  Despite the improvement, I don’t let up on our practices. Swimming muscles need to be exercised regularly, until they’re strong. Iric gets tired out far too soon, but I will make a strong swimmer of him yet.

  My wound is essentially healed, but I’ve made no plans to return to my little fort in the wild. There seems to be little point when I spend my days helping Iric and Soren, especially when there’s room for all of us in the tree house.

  It surprises me how much I’ve come to trust them, but I remind myself not to get too attached. We’re exchanging services. I teach Iric to swim, and he helps me with new armor so I can enter the god’s lair. It’s a trade-off, and when all is said and done, Iric and Soren will return to Restin, while I will go home to Seravin. Assuming the villages really do welcome us back home and don’t treat us as forever outcasts.

  When Iric insists that he needs to start spending more time in his forge, I let him. There are traps that need mending, and Iric needs to work on my armor.

  So as not to be a distraction, I spend the time with Soren. The summer months won’t last forever, so we need to start stocking up on firewood for winter—just in case we’re not returned home by then.

  “Don’t dull your weapon by using your own ax on the firewood,” Soren insists.

  “But the other axes have wooden shafts,” I say, staring at the tools Iric designed. I’m still not used to the
idea of long-lasting wood, despite having lived in the tree house for the last few weeks.

  “They won’t break,” Soren says. “I promise.” He grabs a piece of wood, places it on the stump in front of him, and takes a hearty swing.

  I sling my ax on my back and stare warily at the axes Iric has made for chopping. Eventually, I decide to give them a try. Even so, I start off by making kindling, grabbing smaller pieces of wood and placing the ax carefully to cut the pieces lengthwise into even thinner segments.

  “Coward,” Soren says playfully. “What do you think is going to happen? The ax head will go flying?”

  “Yes!”

  He rolls his eyes at me. “Sounds like an excuse to get out of doing work.”

  “I am not afraid of work.”

  “Says the privileged village leader’s daughter.”

  “You know what? I’m going to outchop you,” I say. I grab a large round of wood, chop it in half, then cut those halves into quarters.

  “Fat chance,” Soren says. He throws down his ax to grab a heavy piece of wood and place it on his stump.

  I focus on my own wood pile for the next minute, cutting through segment after segment.

  After a while, Soren says, “I think we need to place some wagers. Make this more interesting. Whoever gets through their pile last has to wash the winner’s clothes for the next week.”

  I drop my ax to the ground, place my hands on my knees.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  Is there anything that won’t remind me of Torrin?

  The trial blazes behind my eyes. Our competition to see who could kill the most ziken. And after that—

  He—

  I shut my eyes as tightly as they will go, as though I can will the memories away. I don’t want to think of it. Torrin won that day at the trial, and he keeps winning every time I think of him in the wild. Every time I feel like I can’t do something because it reminds me of him.

  I will not let him win anymore.

  “Rasmira, are you all right?”

  I open my eyes, focus them on Soren’s face.

  I’m with Soren.

  Not Torrin.

  Soren is banished with me, and he will help me because he also wants to go home. He’s not setting me up. He’s not going to betray me.