Halfblood Heritage

by Rheaume, Laura

  Scythe and Smoke headed for the door. They tried, like everyone else in the room, to give the couple as much of the illusion of privacy as they could. Regardless, they couldn’t avoid hearing the gentle sobbing and the soft, soothing voice of their friend.

  Once in the hall, they passed Pride. The Blades, in an unspoken agreement, took turns watching over the nursery; along with keeping the young ones safe, it kept away the curious and the unremorsefully rude and insensitive.

  “That reminds me,” mentioned Smoke, taking a right turn toward the main part of the infirmary. “You need to start taking your turn guarding the nursery.”

  Scythe stopped in his tracks and exclaimed, “Really?” He hadn’t been assigned any official duties, since his apprenticeship was supposed to last at least another year.

  “Yeah, how about tonight? This duty is off the schedule, so you’ll still have to report for training as usual. Think you can handle it?”

  “You know I can,” Scythe beamed at him, his chest bursting with pride and excitement.

  Smoke nodded. “Okay, it’s only a four hour shift, so you’ll still get some sleep. It will be good to have you in rotation. That means a little bit less for everyone else.”

  “Thanks,” Scythe said, pausing next to Smoke when he stopped.

  They both waited and watched the man who was striding down the hall towards them. Behind the governor, an advisor and four Red Guard followed.

  “My Lord,” Smoke and Scythe said together and bowed when he reached them. Instead of continuing on, he surprised them by stopping to talk.

  Talto of Poinsea nodded briefly, saying, “Ah, I came to check on our returned brethren, and you have brought me two halfbloods instead.”

  Smoke and Scythe stood silently; for Smoke, the silence was a show of uncommon restraint. Scythe was just unsure of what to do.

  The governor continued after only a brief pause, speaking unexpectedly to Scythe, “I can only imagine that you brought back no less than seven, soon to be eight, children like yourself to prove some kind of point. I’d like to hear what it is.”

  The governor’s manner was strikingly different from what it had been the last time Scythe had seen him. He seemed irritated and short tempered. The stout man behind him wore a smug grin.

  “I...could never leave Kin behind in a place like that, My Lord.”

  “You are more generous with the word ‘Kin’ than I am, halfblood. Perhaps you’ve been listening to the idealistic ramblings of my son, who knows? Let me see this one.” He leaned forward, careful not to touch the baby in Scythe’s arms. His look was neutral, in stark contrast to the advisor's just behind him. The silent man sneered and then pointedly averted his eyes.

  Scythe turned his body sideways, showing the babe’s face. He forced his body to relax, despite the tension building up inside him.

  Talto commented, “Now that is a handsome baby, aside from its obvious deformities.” He addressed Smoke, “And yours, Blade? I’ve been told a Blade has offered to take one as his own. Is this the child?”

  “This is, My Lord,” answered Smoke, perfectly appropriate, which, for Smoke, was patently rude. The man across from him didn’t take notice of it.

  “Are you the valiant father to be?”

  “I am not, My Lord; it is my brother.”

  “I’ve been told that you are all brothers, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “Come now, I won’t taunt you further; I know well that it is my own nephew’s deplorable lack of judgment and taste that soils our family name.” He waited, gauging their reaction to his words.

  “I assure you, My Lord, the lady is worthy of my brother’s affections, from long ago.”

  “No doubt, and no blame falls on her for the atrocity that has befallen her, only the poor recommendation of her choice to keep the child; he is a reminder of an evil deed.”

  “The child does not carry his father’s misdeed.” His face as calm as ever, Smoke’s fraying patience was only given away by the beating in his chest.

  “No, but he does carry his seed, his face and most likely, his evil depravity. How can he not? He is fully half Human, and, unlike our famous Scythe’s gentle if obtuse mother, this Human was clearly a monster, a rapist, a murderer of the Kin. Do you deny it, my nephew’s brother?”

  Smoke took a breath before answering, “My Lord, the child’s father was all of those things. However, I maintain that the child of my dear friend, however it was conceived and whoever its father was, has as much to offer our people as I do. How could he not, if my brother takes him to heart and home? Look to my brother Scythe if you seek proof of the loyalty a halfblood can offer the Kin.”

  “Well spoken, Smoke. You should join my son at the podium. You might gather unto him more worshippers with your pretty words, however self-delusional they may be.”

  Talto pushed past, dismissing them without another word. The frowning man behind him followed suit.

  Smoke moved to the side and stood silently with Scythe until they passed.

  When they continued down the hall, Scythe, still feeling the sting of the governor’s words, pulled Enera’s son Yureg up to his face, rubbing the soft cheek with his own. The boy's hands immediately reached up and clung to Scythe’s hair.

  “Hey now, that’s not nice, Yureg. Good grip though.” He glanced up at Smoke and commented, “He’s so strong.”

  Smoke continued to look forward thoughtfully. His mouth was drawn in the tight line that signaled his deep frustration or anger; it was so unusual that Scythe had only seen it perhaps four or five times before.

  He wondered if Smoke was particularly bothered by the governor’s comments because they were representative of what he and Lena would face if they somehow managed to marry. That made him wonder for the first time if the man had thought about having children with Lena. The idea shocked and appalled him. He hoped that it wasn’t something they would seriously consider. Who would purposely bring a halfblood into such a difficult life? It was good for Smoke to see the types of prejudice that their child would face. Scythe wanted to ask him what his thoughts were, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. For one, it was the type of discussion usually only held within the family, but, more importantly, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer.

  After a few moments, Smoke turned back toward the nursery. Scythe followed behind.

  When they got back, they noticed that Rend and Serena were absent.

  “They went out a short time ago,” said Pride. “I’m about done here. You taking over, Scythe?”

  “Yes,” said Scythe, not even attempting to hide his pleasure, at which Pride shook his head and smiled.

  The Blade gripped his arm companionably. “Good. Just remember this moment on your three hundredth watch.” He waved to Smoke and strode off.

  Scythe looked in and, seeing that Enera was asleep, took Yureg to the crib next to her bed. He laid him down on his side, rolling the blanket under his back and belly to keep him warm and secure, and patted his back a few times before returning to his place by the doorway.

  Smoke, taking his attention from the hall and looking down at the baby in his arms, said, “You little troublemaker, you’re going to keep your daddy busy, that’s for sure.”

  “You think Serena will accept him, then?” asked Scythe.

  “Eventually, sure, because Rend isn’t going to give up any time soon, if ever.”

  “He follows the old ways, too?”

  “He does. His family, and Serena’s for that matter, is even more traditional than mine, which is why this baby’s blood is such a problem for them. But, he has chosen Serena. I do not see him giving up on gaining her favor anytime soon. To begin with, he had chosen her from long ago, but also, things will be very difficult for her from now on. I believe he will stay by her even if she doesn’t agree to be his wife.”

  Scythe nodded, and felt his admiration for Rend deepen. He was the type of man that Scythe’s father would have gi
ven him as an example of someone to respect. It was almost as if, in that moment, Scythe’s father was standing next to him and guiding him like he used to do. He held on tightly to the precious feeling that had bloomed in his chest and concentrated on his watch.

  They stood there for a little longer in a comfortable silence. After a while, they heard the steps of Serena and Rend before they appeared around the corner holding hands easily. When they reached the door, Serena held out her arms for her baby and then hugged him closely.

  “Thank you, Smoke,” Serena said before turning to Rend. “Good night, Rend.”

  “May I visit you later, Serena?” he asked.

  “Not tonight. I’m tired. Maybe tomorrow?”

  “That would please me. Good night, son.” He leaned in and kissed the baby on the forehead, stroking his hair lightly. Then, he straightened and gave Serena an equally gentle kiss on the cheek. “Until tomorrow.”

  She nodded and turned, going to her bed with the tiny babe held tightly to her chest.

  Smoke stepped up to his friend, gripped Rend’s shoulder, and said to Scythe, “Okay, no sleeping, daydreaming, or nose picking.”

  Rend smiled faintly, but didn’t join in on the fun.

  Smoke continued, “Or, if you must pick, keep your fist down, like this...so it doesn’t block your line of sight.” He demonstrated, looking left and right with a finger in his nose, first with the fist up and then down.

  Rend grabbed him by the neck and steered him away.

  Smoke called back, “There is nothing more humiliating than getting killed with your finger in your nose, just remember that!”

  Rend said something quietly, and Smoke answered, loud enough for Scythe to hear, “Well, yeah, okay, but that’s hardly going to happen, now is it? I mean, where would he get the goat?”

  Chapter 17

  Twenty minutes later, the governor and his attendants passed the nursery on their way out of the infirmary. He stopped in front of Scythe, looking bemused.

  “You are on guard duty here, boy?”

  “Yes, My Lord,” Scythe bowed. His pride in his position had fled the moment he caught sight of the governor’s expression; it was replaced with a wary feeling that made his skin tingle.

  “So, are the Blades so lax in their duty that they’d let a trainee like yourself stand for one of them, or is this some ploy to encourage an attack of some kind? Frankly, I don’t see what can be gained by provoking an attack like that...unless you would like to the garner support of apathetic Kin by tossing a few babies to the wolves as martyrs?”

  Scythe's eyes widened in horror. “Never, My Lord.”

  “Then, you agree that it is negligence?”

  Scythe was silent, unsure of what to say.

  “You do not answer?” Talto’s voice hardened.

  “Um, no, My Lord, it is not negligence.”

  “So you believe yourself to be capable of defending these women and their bastard offspring?”

  “Yes, My Lord,” answered Scythe, after cringing at the offensive term. He had gone from being sure he could do it to hoping he could in half of a second.

  “I see.” He stepped back, and his advisor moved back with him. Talto made no sound, nor signaled in any way that Scythe could detect, and yet, he knew in an instant that he was going to be attacked. When the Red Guard came at him with a quick jab to the face, Scythe was already moving toward the man, past his arm, his hand striking up, under the chin, and knocking his head back. Twisting quickly in an extension of his initial move, he brought his elbow around and jabbed it into the guard’s solar plexus. The man stumbled back and into the governor. Twisting around again, Scythe stepped back to his original spot, fists ready, eyes soft focused to take in the movements of all five of them at once.

  “What is going on here?” asked Flame from behind him. Scythe didn’t turn, but kept himself ready. “My Lord?”

  “We are testing your security, to ensure your safety. Please stand back,” replied the governor smoothly.

  “That seems...”

  “Flame,” Scythe pulled up his deep voice, “move back.” He felt his blood start to heat up for the first time since his escape. A tiny bubble of something hot and exciting rose up his chest. It was followed by another.

  He heard her move, just as the guard that had attacked him first and a second man to the left rushed him. Scythe backed through the door, forcing them to come in one at a time. He feinted a strike to the face of the first guard, who shied back from it this time; this tipped his balance slightly and slowed the entrance of the second guard. Scythe spun around, hooked the guard’s leg and brought him down, exposing the second guard suddenly. From his low position, Scythe sprung up with his strong legs, grabbed the top of the doorjamb, and kicked the man’s upper body, knocking him back into the hall, before dropping heavily on the fallen man and stunning him. A buzzing he remembered grew in his head, along with a pleasurable anticipation. Yes. I like this.

  A baby started to cry somewhere behind him, and the sound of it was smooth liquor pouring energy into his arms and legs. He rose, ready to go. His attention was riveted on the three remaining men and the governor.

  “My Lord,” he said, despite the building urge to engage them. He already knew that the fight was inevitable; Talto’s face told him that. So, he didn’t have to placate his desires with promises like he had in the hospital. He just had to go through the motions a bit and then he’d get what he wanted. “I would not choose to fight the Red Guard.”

  The governor said, looking down at his fallen man, who had begun to cough uncontrollably and grab his chest, “I have yet to see anything resembling fighting. But then, you are not a Blade yet, are you?”

  “No.”

  “That is why I contend that you are not really here to protect them. To the contrary, I see you drawing your foe closer to those you are assigned to protect. Again, I don’t see the advantage in it. My son speaks so highly of you, how you fought for the Kin, how you killed. I have to say that I expected more.”

  “Excuse me, My Lord, but you are not our foe. You are the Protector of the Kin.”

  “Any one of these men could easily take a child from here, or kill it, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. Don’t you think that makes you a peculiar choice for a guard?”

  Scythe heard a gasp behind him as the tension in the room jumped. The heat that he had been holding in a tight ball started to spread through his body, and the buzzing matured into a satisfied purr.

  “My Lord,” a woman’s voice implored uneasily, “please, Scythe loves...”

  One look silenced her. The governor’s eyes cut into the woman, and his lip curled in disdain. “It is not enough for him to want to protect you; he must also have the skill to do it.” He continued, his eyes on Scythe, “Let him prove it, or let another stand.”

  “My Lord orders it?” asked Scythe, his pulse speeding up expectantly. Of course, he will say "Yes."

  The man nodded.

  Scythe sprung forward before Talto finished tipping his head, smashing his two knees into the upper torso of the man on the floor who was just then sitting up. The Red Guard was thrown back, his head banging onto the ground with a crack. Scythe jumped up smoothly, leaving a knife stuck harmlessly through the man’s collar into the ground.

  One dead.

  He moved to the door, his eyes still on the leader of the Kin. A low voice whispered, Let them see what they face. Teach them to fear.

  “Watch out, My Lord!” yelled the younger guard, rushing forward. The man dove in front of his liege with his arms reaching out toward Scythe. He was easily knocked sideways into the doorjamb when Scythe turned slightly, dipped down and then shot up, sending the force of his whole body through his shoulder and into the guard’s side. Scythe grabbed the man’s head and twisted it only slightly, before bringing it down onto his knee. He then stepped easily to the side to let him fall, his eyes on the next man surging forward.

  Two dead. They were underes
timating him, but that was okay. He liked the whole exercise. A lot.

  More.

  The guard grabbed Scythe’s uniform, and Scythe let him yank him into the hall, turn and pin him to the wall. By the time his back hit, another of Scythe’s blades was lying against the man’s throat. Scythe raised his eyebrows at the man, questioning. Gritting his teeth, but giving a short nod nonetheless, the guard pushed away from Scythe, letting him drop to the ground.

  Three dead.

  Scythe hooked one of the guard’s arms, yanking him off balance with his fall. Just as he reached the ground, he turned sideways towards the fourth guard. He wrapped his arms around the man’s legs, preventing him from stepping back, and, tucking his head, rushed forward. When he felt the man’s balance finally tip, another thrilling jolt surged through him. He let the force of the man’s fall and his own power merge as he followed the man down to the ground; Scythe's shoulder punched into his chest, just below the ribcage. The man’s breath exploded from his lungs and his eyes bulged; then his whole body went stiff and began to tremble as he tried to suck it back in.

  Not dead yet, but not a threat.

  Hearing the anticipated approach from behind him, Scythe rolled forward, turned and stood smoothly. All three remaining guards were up and moving towards him, their faces a mixture of anger, from the youngest, and cool assessment from the other two.

  Hm. Respawn. EVEN BETTER.

  Considering, Scythe stepped forward, placing his boot on Not Dead Yet’s neck.

  “This can go on all night, if neither side wants to truly hurt the other.” He was hoping it would. The bubbles that rose up were popping now like firecrackers and sending energy to every inch of his body.