The next few months at the Exile Base took them into Trillian’s summer, turning conditions from cool and foggy to hot and foggy with nightly thunderstorms thrown in for good measure. Everyone learned quickly to be indoors when the storms hit. The first time the dazzling lightning display struck the camp, they were all up on the mountain training course where there was no inside. They spent the night cowering among the rocks, sitting so that nothing but their boots touched the ground, and still felt the tingle of electrical current, sometimes more strongly than was comfortably abided.
“Let’s not let that happen again,” Dynan said somewhat tersely to Boral as they made their way down the mountain at dawn the next day.
It turned out, for a change, that Dain was wrong about there being women on the Base. Aside from the elderly cook, and a few cleaning ladies Commander Toolin had brought from his own household, the only other females were the few who were there in the ranks. Dain understood the reasons for the non-association clause, even without the conversation from Boral.
To Dynan’s surprise, Dain kept his promise to remain on Base; a first, he thought. Sheed was rarely far from his side, making escape somewhat impossible. His brother, lacking the opportunity for more pleasurable diversions, settled with single-minded dedication to the pursuit of physical excellence. He did nothing but train, constantly driving himself harder. Always an expert with a blade, before long no one could face him with a sword and expect to keep their own for more than a moment or two, a fact that Dain was insufferably satisfied about. Boral put him in charge of weapons training and he seemed to enjoy the added responsibility.
It was hard work, but they didn’t mind it so much, except for Boral’s obstacle courses that he delighted in devising that challenged every faculty, both physical and mental. Dain liked to beat them. Dynan wished he never had to go through them. He did keep his perfect second-best record intact. No one could beat him either. Except the one time, anyway, when he tried getting through the mud pit.
They almost didn’t make it through that one.
Geneal’s eyes widened when she saw them coming into her field station; an area that was always set up when they were training, since injuries did happened. Pulled muscles, strains and sprains, and the occasional broken bone kept her busy. She took one look at them, Dynan helping Dain to a table, both of them covered in mud head to foot, and she started setting up to treat the stake through Dain’s right hand. It was a splinter of wood, about the size of his small finger
“I’m almost afraid to find out,” she said of the mess and the stake.
Dynan went to the water basin and started gulping water, spitting it right back out to get rid of the mud he felt he swallowed, watching the water run red down the drain. Trillian dirt was more clay than anything else.
“Boral is trying to kill us,” Dynan said, spit again, and started on his hands and face.
“He is not.”
“Not on purpose,” Dain said, holding himself by the wrist to keep his hand steady while Geneal examined the wound. “Dynan got sucked into the mud, over his head, though no one is sure how that happened since there’s supposedly a floor to the thing. I got him out, and then this happened when I tried getting myself out.”
Boral walked in then, wanting the same answers. Dynan stayed by the sink and kept scrubbing, trying to stop breathing hard. He could feel it still, the soupy consistency of it, dragging at him, going over his head.
Dain held up his hand. “Someone didn’t do a very good job of cleaning the area of sharp, pointy objects.”
Boral only grunted at the display. “All right. I’ll see that it’s picked over again. What happened to him?” he asked, and Dynan glanced at him, but didn’t respond.
He was having a hard enough time getting it out of his head as it was. It didn’t feel like a pit of mud, but a river of it, and maybe something else hovering on the edge of memory that was best not disturbed. There were other things in there with him, clutching at him.
“Maybe there was an air pocket or something on the bottom that displaced, and then the mud sucked him under,” Dain said anyway, while Geneal clipped the ends of the stake off with a laser cutter. She put his hand in a bowl of some sort of gel that instantly started bubbling. “You can imagine what happened next.”
“You panicked,” Boral said, joining Dynan at the basin.
“I’m not getting in it again,” he said, turning to face him as steadily as he could, which meant he had to hold his breath.
“No one should get in it again,” Dain said before Boral could countermand Dynan. He was about to. “At least not until it’s checked, and maybe the floor of it raised so you don’t nearly kill us in the thing. Beside the point that I don’t know when I’m ever going to need to get through a pit of mud, Boral. Ever.”
“That’s exactly the point,” he said. “You never know when you might.”
Dain shook his head over it and after a brief hesitation, Boral grunted and stumped away, muttering under his breath. Dynan supposed it was hard for him, being one of the Surrogates and unused to taking orders or even suggestions from them. It wasn’t up for debate. Dynan meant it. He would not go through the course again and he didn’t care that Boral thought otherwise.
“You know it really wasn’t a river of blood,” Dain said, making Geneal look up from her efforts.
“I know.”
“And there wasn’t anything else in there with you. No dismembered hands or bobbing heads.”
Geneal pulled out a biomonitor and turned it on Dynan, her eyebrows shooting up over the readings. “You really did panic.”
“Just a little,” Dain said. “He’s not getting in the thing again. Can you help us out?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled and Dynan finally felt the tension leave his shoulders. “All right. I’m going finish up here and you two are done for the day. No strain on this hand for a few days. You’ll have to fight left-handed.”
He nodded to all that, examining the red mark where the stake used to be. He flexed his fingers to see how much it hurt, and then leaned and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
The doctor smiled without looking up and they left her.
Out in the field, they turned for the house to go get cleaned up, but Dain stopped. “Let’s go up to the waterfall pool. It’s warm enough. The sun might be out up there, and I don’t think the crap plumbing in the house is going to handle all this muck.”
Dynan agreed and they turned for the hills. Ralion and Sheed started after them, leaving a conversation with Boral. Dynan wondered what they had to say about the pit of doom, guessing they would be okay with him not ever going in it again too. He glanced at Dain. “Thanks for getting me out of there.”
“I keep telling you...”
“I know. Thanks anyway.”
“What I’m here for.”
“So she’s not giving in yet,” Dynan said of Geneal.
“No.”
“Have you tried telling her that you really like her?”
“She already knows I really like her.”
“Have you said it to her?” Dynan asked.
Dain shook his head, looking at his hand again. “She won’t believe me.”
“Probably not. That’s a tough one.”
“You know I can put you back in that pit, right?”
Dynan laughed. “No you can’t.” He stopped halfway across the field. “You go ahead. I don’t feel like climbing all the way up there with this all over me. I’ll use the field shower.”
Dain headed off without him and Dynan turned around, heading not for the field shower but back to the Medic station. After he made sure Dain was too far away to notice, he ducked inside. Geneal looked up, concerned because he was back, but before she could ask why, he stopped her.
“He really likes you,” he said, smiling at the sudden surprise on her face that was followed by her being flustered enough to not know what to say. Dynan nodded a confirmation, slipped back out and headed on for the house, where the crap pl
umbing handled the mud and muck just fine.
Time continued its forward march. Their training got harder and harder, but Dynan never did have to go through the mud pit obstacle course again. New arrivals came in. Before long, the numbers changed to a trickle of ships making it out of Cobalt. Dynan tried to be on hand to greet them, but it wasn’t always possible with the training schedule. He did his best to meet everyone individually, which seemed to surprise them, but was a gesture they appreciated. Dain tried to be there too, but his schedule was worse. Slowly, in small increments their troop strength rose.
One day late, near the end of a long day in training, they sat resting just beneath the summit of the mountain course in a patch of light. Ralion and Sheed stood a distance away, giving them some solitude, or as much as they were ever allowed.
Dain reached inside his jacket and pulled something out. “Do you know what day it is?”
Dynan glanced at him, frowning at the question because he didn’t know. They were on Trea’s calendar, and he hadn’t been keeping track. “No.”
His brother smiled. “The seventh day, Avra. Happy Birthday.”
“It can’t be.”
Dain nodded and handed him a small box. When Dynan looked inside, he laughed. A small, carved rabbit sat, its nose down on its paws. “Do you remember?”
“Run, rabbit, run,” he said, smiling at the memory.
It was a story their father used to read to them when they were little, one of their favorites, where a small rabbit found itself in a great deal of trouble in the garden of a very mean farmer. Near the end of the story, when the rabbit was about to get caught, he and Dain always yelled out, run, rabbit, run! Ambrose then chased them until one or both of them were caught. He would then tuck them one under each arm and run around with them, captive and howling with laughter.
Dynan looked at the perfectly carved animal, then at Dain. “You made this?”
He smiled and nodded. “Out of breyell wood too.”
Dynan knew that particular wood to be especially difficult to carve, increasing his admiration for the skill applied. “This is incredible.”
“Thanks. I thought it appropriate, considering what our lives are like now.”
Dynan smiled, nodding. “I didn’t get you anything.”
Dain shrugged. “You just keep that safe somewhere, and keep it in mind. That’s enough for me.”
“I will. Thanks, Dain.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, and then frowned as he looked around. Ralion and Sheed weren’t there anymore. Dain stood. “Where did they go off to?”
Dynan looked with him, and then they heard a troop of men coming down the mountain. They were singing in cadence, and he started when he heard their names mentioned along with something about their birthday, and something else about what was going to be done to them. The word dunking came up a few times. Dain swore and pulled Dynan up off the log.
“Move.”
“They wouldn’t.”
“Uh, yeah, they would.”
With that, he took off down the mountain and Dynan raced after him. The chant behind them erupted into a roar. They were seen and chased. They made it down without getting caught, but the field they ran into held the entire base compliment, nearly a thousand men and women waiting for them. A huge cheer went up when they were spotted. Dain stopped at the edge of the forest, looking back behind. He rolled his eyes, seeing readily enough that there wouldn’t be any way out of whatever was planned for them. Boral met them at the wood line, his timer in hand.
“I think that’s the fastest you’ve ever made it down,” he said, smiling as he gestured them on. A corridor opened for them that led to an incredibly large vat stationed out in the middle of the field. A set of stairs led to the summit where Carryn and Geneal stood, along with the rest of the Command staff. A plank led from the platform over to the vat.
“Oh no,” Dynan said. Boral laughed and put his arm around his shoulders.
“Oh yes.” He grabbed Dain next, and they were marched forward amidst the cheers of the troops.
Sheed and Ralion were waiting to assist them up the stairs. “Some guard you are,” Dynan said, trying to get out of the vice like grip Ralion had on his arms. “I thought this was the sort of thing you were supposed to save me from.”
He was ignored and pushed up the stairs. Dain went along far more quietly, but then he didn’t mind being in water or whatever liquid awaited them. It was Dynan’s own fault for never making that particular fear known to anyone outside his family.
A swirl of foam coated the top and by the smell of it, he knew it was a vast amount of ale. Dain brightened noticeably and even ventured out on the plank to get a closer look. That prompted Ralion to push Dynan right along behind and the board wobbled underfoot.
“I bet that’s really cold,” Dain said, looking down into the golden brown liquid. “But tasty.”
“You want to get in there, fine. Go right ahead. Have fun.” Dynan eased back a step, but Dain grabbed him before Ralion could.
“You’re older, big brother, and that means you go in first.”
“Don’t.”
“Take a deep breath, Dynan.”
He was picked up, swung around to the front, and pushed. On the way down, Dynan followed the advice to breathe, which was all he had time for before he went under. It wasn’t just cold, but not quite paralyzing either. His clothes hampered him, and he wasn’t exactly sure which way was up. He couldn’t open his eyes to see.
Dain landed right next to him then, righted himself, grabbed hold, and pushed him upward. Dynan felt it was the wrong direction but then the surface broke around him and he could breathe.
“I’ve got you.”
“Thanks.”
Dain smiled easily. “I keep telling you—”
“I know.”
“I won’t let you drown. You can start swimming any time now. I want to get a drink while I’m in here.”
Dynan’s ears cleared and it startled him when he heard cheering. “Nice to know they think this is so funny.”
Dain laughed and spit a mouthful of ale at him. “That’s because it is. Beats getting sucked into a mud pit by a lot, don’t you think? There’s the ladder.”
Dynan pushed away from him, splashing him as he swam. It wasn’t that he couldn’t swim, he just didn’t like it. He never had, and this experience not withstanding, still didn’t. The ale did taste good. Dain brushed by him and beat him to the edge, then pulled himself up without bothering with the ladder. He only looked over to see what everyone was doing. Geneal, Carryn and Xavier remained on the platform watching. They were joined by Boral who carried four large mugs. That’s all Dynan saw before proximity to the rim cut off the view.
Dynan reached the ladder and started to climb out while Dain slid back in, then yanked on his leg by the ankle. Dynan knew the next instant he was after his boot. He started laughing when Dain showed him in a brief mental image what he intended to do. “Take them both,” he said and braced himself while Dain pulled off his boots. His brother filled one and handed it up to him. The other he kept for himself, swimming with it around to the front.
Dynan got out about the time Dain got up and poised, distracting Carryn and Geneal, but Boral saw him coming. Carryn turned, warned no doubt by Boral’s widening eyes. That only made it a frontal assault and the First Commander got a half a boot-full of ale in her face. Geneal got the rest.
At the same time, Dain leaned over and dumped the other boot on Ralion and Sheed and any of the other staff he could get. Judging by the thunderous response, his aim was good. Boral was howling.
“Nicely done,” Carryn said, smiling while she wiped her face dry.
“Who said anything about being done?”
Dain emerged and joined them on the platform, nodding at Carryn. She didn’t put up much of a fight. As soon as she went in, Dain turned on Geneal. To the delight of all the troops, he picked her up, kicking and screaming and heaved her off the end of the plank
. He almost went in after her and Dynan insured it when he snuck up and gave him an easy push.
“That goes for anyone left on this platform,” he said loudly enough for most to hear. Boral and Xavier beat a hasty retreat down the steps, leaving him alone. That got him a cheer from the troops, but the singular status didn’t last as Dain surged back out of the vat.
Dynan swore and took off, pursued by his brother through the gathered crowd, only barely managing to escape him. All the while he aimed for the house, a fact that a few realized and set out after them. About halfway across the field, the chase was dropped and they allowed to make their way a little less frantically.
Ralion and Sheed caught up to them at the house, but were only there to help get them out of the wet clothes. Once re-clad, they went back out and remained for most of the rest of the day, eating and drinking and having one of the better birthday celebrations either of them remembered.
Dynan stood out on the porch later, listening to the sounds of revelry that continued from the field. Eighteen, the Age of Rights had always seemed like such a magical number, so much importance put on this particular birthday and for him especially. If he were on Cobalt now, the same sort of festivities would have taken place, but the day would have been far different. There were ceremonies for the Heir to the Throne in particular, a rite of passage denied him.
The door behind him opened, Carryn came out, and joined him. “Quite a day.”
Dynan nodded, turning to look back into the shroud of fog that blanketed the compound. “A nice surprise.”
“Still, not what it should be,” she said, and reached in her uniform pocket. She pulled out a silver medallion hung from a blue satin sash. It bore the Telaerin crest, stamped on its surface. Dynan recognized it as a symbol only the Heir to the Throne, on the day of attaining his rights, would be given.
“Where—”
“Governor Taldic sent it,” she said. “It probably wasn’t so hard, since he would have presented it to you himself.”
“Maybe he wants to keep me official.”
Carryn smiled a little, nodding. “I sent word that he shouldn’t take such risks for us, but in this he’s right. I don’t suppose it will matter that the First Governor isn’t the one to give it to you. I’m honored to. If you were home, tomorrow you’d be King, and this but one of many ceremonies. Today you are Heir to the Throne. One tomorrow, some days from this one, you will be King. We’ll get you home, Dynan. I swear it, on my life and yours.”
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