by C. Ellsworth
Traizen snorted. “Yeah, but it was just a cub and it thought you were its mama. Ha ha! You haven’t faced a canth until you’ve stared a hungry one in the eyes! Oh, they don’t eat you right away, though. They like to play with you for a while.”
A sick pit formed in Addy’s stomach. If the others didn’t change the subject soon, she might lose her breakfast. What had happened in Old Town was best forgotten. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and concentrated on the soothing heat that enveloped her. Be calm. Focus on the now. You’re safe.
Ryan cleared his throat and sat forward with his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes narrowed at Traizen. “Tell us about the Waste, Traizen.” His voice was challenging. Maybe even provoking. “What happened the last time you went? You’ve been pretty sparse with the details. How is it you survived to make it home for the second time, when none of the others did?”
Traizen’s expression turned dark, his deep-set eyes narrowing. The room fell deathly quiet, with only the occasional hissing of steam over the fire making any sound at all. “Don’t poke a beehive unless you’re looking to get stung.” His voice was a low growl.
“I’m not afraid of a few bugs.”
Traizen bolted from his seat, square face contorted in anger. Ryan leaped to his feet to meet him, and the two came nose-to-nose, chests nearly touching. Standing there as they were, nothing was left to the imagination.
Heat flooded into Addy’s cheeks. Should she look away? Yes. Yes, she should. Papa would expect that in such a situation. But the others were looking, and she had to make an effort to fit in, right?
Neither of the men came to blows, however; they just glared threateningly at one another until Sorsia began clapping slowly, an amused chuckle escaping through her thin lips. “Calm yourselves, boys. Save it for the practice yard.”
Curiously, it was the larger man who took a step back first, but his eyes retained that threatening glare as he returned to his place beside Sorsia. His eyes met Addy’s, and his face reddened. Was he embarrassed for backing down first, or did he feel foolish for bending to Sorsia’s command?
After a moment, Ryan snatched up his towel, covered himself, and took his own seat again on the bench. Addy breathed a sigh of relief, but it wasn’t because the view had been displeasing.
Liah muttered, but her words were clearly meant to carry. “Those two have been testing each other since Ryan got here six months ago.” She watched the men passively. “And Sorsia has always stopped them. I say let them go at it. Let them pound each other to a pulp and get it out of their systems. They’re like canth battling for territory.”
Karine hummed, eyes lingering on Ryan. “I’ve always found it entertaining watching men fight.”
Addy raised an eyebrow at the golden-haired woman.
A small, barely-perceptible smile curled the ends of Karine’s pouty lips. Then she shook her head as if waking from a daydream. “Would you like me to brush out your hair, Addy?” She picked up a brush from the bench beside her. “If you’re not mindful in this place, you’ll end up with a headful of snarls.”
With a smile and a nod, Addy undid the blue ribbon from her hair and shook it out. “I would love that. Thank you.” She turned her back to Karine.
There was a brief pause before Karine let out an audible breath. Oh, yes, the scar. Addy pursed her lips, cheeks flushing again. It’s no big deal. It’s just a skeg mark that means you bloody belong to one of them!
Karine’s finger gently traced the bird-shaped scar. Her voice was pained. “It . . . must have hurt a great deal.” She snatched her hand away. “I—I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. Mother always says ‘Thoughts, the cow. Words, the cart.’ Forgive me, Addy.”
Addy shrugged. “Please don’t apologize, Karine. It’s a part of me now. I have to learn to be all right with it.” But could she be all right with it? She was marked! And was she really safe from them here?
Before her, Liah’s short-cropped hair framed a thoughtful expression, but when their eyes met she simply gave a small, brief smile.
Karine began combing the brush through Addy’s hair, the long strands already damp from the steam. “Still, I should learn to guard my tongue better.” Then after a pause, she added, “You really do have beautiful hair.”
“Oh, please,” Addy sighed. “It must look a hay stack compared to yours. How do you find the time to keep it so beautiful?”
Liah let out a snort, eye’s rolling upward.
Karine breathed a sigh. “I suppose being the mayor’s daughter has a few benefits.” Her tone somehow sounded both amused and disgusted at the same time. “I have dyes and oils brought in from time to time. The Guard Captain does not approve, but so far he has not done anything to stop it. The poor man likely feels stuck between rock and stone. The mayor and I have had . . . numerous . . . differences of opinion.”
The brush combed through her hair from root to end in smooth motions, snagging only occasionally. Damp as it was, it fell mostly straight down, two finger widths past her shoulder, but Addy rarely kept it loose. Done up and out of the face was preferable when doing chores.
Addy paused. How could she phrase it delicately? “Is that why you were so . . . upset last night?” Her voice was low enough that it couldn’t have carried beyond the three of them.
Karine heaved a sigh, but didn’t respond.
Liah’s eyes turned to Karine. “The mayor doesn’t want her here.” At the sound of a frustrated sigh from Karine, she quickly added, “She has a lot of courage staying, though. I’m not sure I could muster as much, was I in her shoes. But I’m also not quite so stubborn as she is either.” She ended with a wry smile.
A sharp tug at Addy’s hair said Karine had not appreciated the woman’s last comment. She blurted a quick “sorry” and then continued. “It is true that I can be somewhat . . . stubborn when it comes to my—the mayor—but at least I have not tried to kill him over it.”
Addy cringed, but Liah merely breathed a soft sigh, her face becoming like stone.
Karine drew another breath, as if preparing to continue, but Traizen stood to pour water from a bucket onto the hot stones. The water burst into a cloud of steam that filled the room again in a damp haze. Good, a distraction! There was far too much tension all of a sudden.
Addy looked around the steamy room. These people . . . her very life would depend on them when they traveled to the Tower and back. But a group could not build a shed if each acted alone. They had to work together. But how could they when there was so much spite between them?
Chapter 14
Morning dawned on the fourth week, and Addy was again in the training yard with her company. The early sunlight had yet to reach where she and her companions stood patiently on the sand. It was going to be a hot day. The air was already muggy and stale.
Sweat was starting to bead on Addy’s forehead, and the exercises hadn’t even begun yet. The others seemed to notice the heat as well, some of them tugging uncomfortably at their hot, woolen, and still heavily weighted vests.
There had been a lot to learn during those weeks. Every day brought lessons on everything from moving stealthily to scavenging for food. Even Erabelle got involved, giving instruction on emergency life-saving measures. The old woman had no patience for fools, as Traizen experienced repeatedly, but she seemed eager to pass on what she knew. For the others, most of those lessons were simply review, having been at the barracks for some time, but Addy soaked it all in. She would make it back from the Tower alive. Papa and Gevin were counting on her!
Aeric entered the yard shortly after their arrival and greeted them all flatly before the warm-up exercises commenced. He set them to running in place vigorously for a few minutes, and any who did not make enough effort to satisfy him would go another two. That had happened to Addy only once, and after she had vomited from the effort, it wasn’t going happen again.
Then it was time for the rope again, the thing that set her stomach clenching every morning. She was maki
ng progress, but it was much too slowly. And with the promise of ridicule from Traizen and Sorsia when she could not make it to the top, she could barely suppress a groan before she was clutching the rope again and straining with all her might.
Karine cheered softly. “You can do it, Addy!” It was a small thing, but it seemed to give Addy just a little more strength, and she managed to progress farther than she had the day before, if only by a hand’s width. Sorsia was out of view, but she was probably glaring at Karine for the encouragement. When Addy descended back to the ground, Liah and Karine smiled and clapped her on the shoulder.
Sorsia stood with her weight on one leg and a hand on her hip. “Out there—” She nodded her head toward the blue light that pierced the sky. “—past the wall, there is no halfway. If you can’t even make it up a rope, how the bloody Faege are you going to survive in the Waste?”
Karine sniffed. “There’s no need to be mean, Sorsia.”
Aeric cut in abruptly, his eyes narrowed and his whiskered jaw clenching. “Sorsia is right. The Twisted Lands and the Waste should not be taken lightly. There are things out there that are straight out of the story books. They’ll give you nightmares for the rest of your life.”
Addy had read about those things: giant lizards called dragons; creatures, half man and half bear; carnivorous plants. None of them had ever frightened her. Not really. How could they, when they had just been stories in a book? But would it be different if she saw them with her own eyes?
Aeric looked at each of them in turn. “One mistake could be your last. Ask Traizen. I’m sure he can tell you a tale or two.”
Traizen flinched, but he regained his composure, clenching his fists at his sides. He did not volunteer to share anything, though. What had happened out there two Cycles ago?
Aeric then set the companions—those yet to have their turn—to doing their own rope-climbs, and then all of them twice more after that. Addy was breathing heavily by the time they were done, but not as much as she had that first week. A small victory. The others wore sweat on their brows, but they didn’t seem out of breath at all. One day she would climb that rope without nearly passing out! One day.
As Addy was recovering her breath, Aeric went to the large iron-bound chest that sat against the wall beside the doorway. He opened it, the lid creaking loudly, and motioned for them to gather around. “Today we’re going to start training with weapons.”
Traizen let out a loud cheer, but Addy looked at the pile with chest tightening. There were blades—short and long—spiked clubs, and even a hammer that was longer than she was tall. Her stomach clenched. She was about to go face to face against someone trying to hit her with one of those.
Aeric took a simple dagger from the chest, its blade as long as a man’s foot. He regarded them all for a moment before the weapon was suddenly dancing in his grip, twirling in circles and making a whooshing sound as it cut through air. Rane Harper would do that trick at festivals, as he danced about garbed in bright colors, face painted in white-and-red makeup. He was a right proper fool. But the Guard Captain was no fool.
Aeric abruptly ended the flourish by throwing the dagger to the ground, the blade stabbing upright into the sand. “We’ll be training with that to start. For those of you who have had some experience already, this will be familiar. A good warrior knows, though, that there are always lessons to be learned, and it’s always smart to stay in practice. Take one and head to the dummies.”
After they all took daggers from the chest, they met Aeric at the training dummies. The man-shaped bags of hay stood a little taller than Addy, and they were suspended on thick wooden poles buried in the sand. Addy held the dagger tightly, the leather-wrapped handle rough in her hand. It was much larger than any knife she had used at home to cut vegetables or bread. This thing could go clean through her middle and leave some to spare!
The others all held their daggers with some familiarity, even Karine, who hadn’t been at the barracks as long. Traizen twirled his with almost as much flair as Aeric had shown. Had any of them fumbled in the beginning? They all still had their arms and legs attached, so perhaps the weapons weren’t so dangerous, despite the long blades.
Aeric had his own dagger in hand again as he came to stand between them and the dummies, the lines at his eyes prominent as he looked the six of them over. Then he proceeded to demonstrate how to hold the weapon, how to swing it, and how to thrust. He watched them all closely as they mimicked his movements, stopping from time to time to help with technique. Only Addy seemed to need that, though, but she caught on quickly.
The Guard Captain was patient as they went through the motions, but he was also quick and blunt with his criticism. The first week of his sharp comments and angry shouts had left Addy near tears, but she’d since grown accustomed to his no-nonsense training technique. For the most part.
Addy thrust her dagger forward into the air, and a grin snuck onto her face. With that weapon she could protect herself. She would no longer be helpless. All she had to do was learn to use it without lopping off a finger, or an ear. Could she really kill someone with it, though? Perhaps if her life was in danger. Things might have ended differently if she had had one in Old Town.
After a while practicing against the air, Aeric set them against the bag men. Addy stepped forward and took a stance as Aeric had shown. Then she thrust the dagger toward a circle that marked the dummy’s heart, and the blade pierced the canvas with a satisfying tchick. It did not penetrate very far, though. The bag was rather densely packed.
Traizen chuckled at her attempt, his own dagger digging deep. Sorsia just snorted. “Behold! The mighty warrior, vanquisher of the Faege, savior of the people! She might actually annoy a small piglet with that thing.”
“Hold your tongue, guardsman.” Aeric came to stand at Addy’s side, his next words directed at her. “You’re holding back. Your thrusts are hesitant. Strike to kill, not to wound or maim. Bleeding or not, if they’re not dead, they will still try to kill you.”
Addy nodded. Strike to kill. The skeg in Old Town. Now that was a worthy target! She gave a soft grunt and thrust again, her blade sinking deep this time. Yes!
Aeric gave a quick nod. “Better. Keep at it.”
The blade really wasn’t that sharp after all; in fact, it didn’t have much of an edge at all and probably wouldn’t even cut through skin without a lot of effort. Her fingers and ears were probably safe. She continued, though, swinging and thrusting, and taking the occasional advice from Aeric. She watched the others as well, noting their techniques and comparing them to her own.
For several more hours they trained at the dummies, Addy’s arm weak and throbbing by the end. Aeric wanted them feeling like the weapon was an extension of their arm, and so they swung and stabbed and swung some more until the sun had crossed the sky to the other side, dipping out of sight to cast deepening shadows across the training yard.
Aeric finally dismissed them for the day, and Addy almost checked the sand to make sure her arm hadn’t dropped off her shoulder. She heaved a sigh as she struggled with her weighted vest. The steam bath was going to feel so amazing! And who cared if she would be practically nude? Hopefully Mama couldn’t see here from wherever she might be!
Sometime later—and with skin heavily wrinkled—she, being the last to leave, doused the flame and left the bath house. She walked the halls with leaden feet until she pushed through the door where her bed was eagerly waiting. The sun had set by then, but the room was brightly lit with candles. The others were sitting on their beds or in one of the four chairs around the table. They were obviously not as tired as she.
Traizen sat with an elbow propped casually on the tabletop, making a visible effort to look inconspicuous, but when he saw that it was her, he relaxed and let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s only you.”
The others relaxed visibly as well. What were they up to? “Uh, yes. It’s . . . only me.” She looked at her bed. Was someone playing a trick on her? Gevin had once put
a mouse under her covers before bedtime. Nothing looked touched, though, nothing out of place. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Traizen’s abrupt response said otherwise. Addy’s stomach began to twist. There was something going on here, and it couldn’t be good.
Sorsia, lying in her bed, raised herself to her elbows and smirked. “Relax, Princess.” But that just made Addy’s stomach twist all the more. “We’re just having a little fun. You wouldn’t . . . rat us out for . . . bending the rules a little, would you?”
Ryan looked at her briefly as he sat cross-legged on his bed, but he didn’t say anything. Karine wore a small frown from her bed, and Liah was glaring sideways at Sorsia from her chair leaning against the wall. Neither Karine or Liah said anything either, though.
Addy shook her head, and Sorsia grinned. “Good.” That grin, though, put an itch between Addy’s shoulder blades. “Traizen, dear, pour the princess a drink.”
Addy’s heart skipped. A drink? Traizen snickered and produced a ceramic jug from under the table. Then he poured some dark liquid into a wooden cup.
Karine let out a sigh. “Addy . . .” she said at the same time Ryan softly muttered, “I wouldn’t do that.” The two of them brought their own cups to hand, though, produced from under the bed or behind the back.
Traizen lifted the mug toward Addy. How bad could it be? She paused for a moment before walking over to peer into the cup at the dark liquid. “What is it?”
“Spirits.” Traizen’s grin split his face in two. “Haven’t you ever had spirits before? It’s all right. It won’t kill you. Watch.” He took the cup and downed its contents in a single gulp, exhaling noisily before filling it up again.
Addy took the cup and put it to her nose. It smelled sour, acrid, with a hint of everberries. Then with one last glance around the room, she imitated Traizen and tilted her head back and downed the liquid, all of it. In a single gulp.
Fire erupted in her throat. She gasped for air. But the breath she took merely stoked the flames. Her eyes teared up. Her stomach heaved. She sucked air deeply into her lungs, but then her lungs were on fire as well. She couldn’t breathe! She waved her arms frantically, the mug still in her hand. The edges of her vision blurred.