Ashley glanced down at Landon’s leg.
“What is it? Did something happen to your leg, father?” she asked.
He nodded. “A bull got me ‘bout a year back. Busted my knee good, and now it doesn’t work so well.” He shrugged. “I get by, though.”
Ashland took a breath, and grabbed her father’s hand. Closing her eyes, she found her center, her source of Order. Embracing the cool calmness, she extended herself to find the Order within him. Wrapped within the cool blue serenity was a pulsing red of wrongness, torn ligaments that had never healed emanating an angry energy. She grabbed ahold of his force of Order and coaxed it to heal the torn tissue. In her mind’s eye, she witnessed the tissue reforming, melding back together.
She opened her eyes as her father gasped for air and a shiver racked his body. With wide eyes, he puffed air to regain his breath. He looked at his leg in wonder, bending it to test it.
“That’s amazing.” He said, staring at the leg. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His eyes met hers. “So, you did it? You’re a student at the Academy?”
She smiled. “Yes, Pa. I’ve been training there for two years now. In one more, I’ll be a Master Ecclesiast: a healer.”
Ashley gripped Ashland’s hands, her eyes showing tears. “My daughter, a healer in the Ministry.” Smiling, she wrapped her arms around Ashland again.
When her mother released her, Ashland dried her eyes. Feeling a bit self-conscious, she glanced toward Brock and Cam. They both had their eyes cast down, obviously feeling uncomfortable. She realized that she hadn’t introduced them.
“Mother, Father. This is my boyfriend, Brock,” she said, grabbing his hand to pull him closer.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Pym, Mrs. Pym.” Brock held his hand out.
Ashland’s mother pushed his outstretched hand aside embraced Brock with a hug.
“Pym?” Landon asked.
“Um…sorry Pa. Pym’s my last name at the school,” she shrugged.
Her father nodded, shaking Brock’s hand once he escaped Ashley’s embrace.
“And this is Cam, Brock’s roommate at the school.” Ashland said, completing her introductions.
“Please, sit.” Her mother said, gesturing to the small table.
Brock, Cameron, and Ashland squeezed onto the bench on one side of the table. Her mother and father sat on the other side.
“Are you hungry?” Ashley asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ashland and Brock laughed. Those were the first words they’d heard from Cam in hours.
. . .
Ashland pulled a rogue strand of hay from her shirt, remnants from a night of sleeping in the barn loft. While better than sleeping on the ground, the hay was itchy and made her sneeze. She turned and waved one last time. Leaving her parents again had been difficult, emotional.
“How long has it been?” Brock asked as she turned and caught up to him.
“What? How long?” she asked.
Brock nodded as he grabbed her hand. “Since you’ve seen them. Obviously, it’s been a long time.”
She nodded, speaking quietly. “I haven’t seen them since I was ten, when I left to train for the Academy.”
“Eight years?” Brock asked. When she nodded, she felt him give her hand a squeeze before he spoke again. “It must have been difficult.”
She nodded. “The first years were…particularly hard. Things got a little better when I got to the Academy. Then, you showed up last year, and it’s been way better ever since.”
She flashed him a smile. He smiled back, squeezing her hand again.
“I noticed that they’re Unchosen,” he said. “How did they save enough to help you, to get you in?”
She realized that Brock was being careful not to be too specific since Cam was there. Other than Tipper, nobody except Ashland knew that Brock was Unchosen and was marked with a fake rune. Besides Brock, only Ashland’s parents knew the truth about her.
Ashland walked in quiet for a while, staring at the road, searching for the right words.
“Remember the man we saw last night? The one with the horse?” she asked. Brock nodded before she continued. “He runs the ranch, working for a wealthy man who lives in Selbin. The man in Selbin…owns my parents.”
Brock’s brow furrowed. “Owns? What do you mean owns them?”
She sighed. “To get the gold required, they agreed to ten years of indentured servitude.”
Cam, who had been listening quietly, spoke. “Indentured what?”
“Servitude. It’s like selling yourself to become a slave until you pay off a debt.” Ashland said, feeling guilty when she thought of their sacrifice. “The landowner agreed to give my parents the gold if they agreed to work for him from dawn until dusk for ten years. In return, he agreed to give them food, water, and shelter. As you can tell, it’s the bare minimum needed to survive.”
Ashland knew that her parents had forfeited their own hopes and dreams so she could pursue hers, to give her a better life. Though she felt guilty about it, she couldn’t blame them. She wouldn’t want her child stuck in that life either. It’s why she refused to allow anything to come between her and success. She couldn’t let them down like that, not after what they had done to ensure her future.
CHAPTER 6
Benny gritted his teeth as he tightened the last nut. Now finished, he stood back to admire his work. The familiar thrill of having created something sunk in and a smile spread across his face. He couldn’t wait to show his father.
He grabbed the handles and rolled it out of the stable, across the yard, and straight to the ramp he had installed the previous week. Grunting, he pushed it up the ramp to the back door of the temple apartments. Once inside, he went directly to the second door and opened it.
His father looked up from his book and removed his reading spectacles. He sat upright in the chair, squinting his good eye at what Benny rolled in.
“What’s this?” His father asked.
“This is my latest invention,” Benny said. “It’ll make it easy for you to get around town.”
“Around town? You mean go out?” his father asked.
Benny sat on the sofa beside his father’s chair. “Yes. You need to get out and live life, Pa. I realize that your leg makes it difficult to get around, so I made this so for you.”
Benny pointed at his latest invention. After purchasing a chair identical to the one his father now sat on, he added two wagon wheels on a short rear axle and two smaller wheels on swivels to the front. It was a padded wooden chair on wheels.
His father stood, rising slowly. Grunting with each step of his fake leg, he crossed the room to inspect the contraption. When he got close, he rocked it back and forth to test the wheels. He shuffled into position and sat in the chair, causing it to roll backwards with the momentum.
“You can user the rails I added to the wheels to turn them.” Benny said, rising to stand near his father.
The man put his hands on the rails, causing the chair to roll as he tested them. Pushing on one wheel while holding the other still, he was able to make it spin. Benny’s father looked toward him, the good side of his face breaking into a grin.
“I like it, Benny.”
Benny’s heart soared as tears clouded his vision. He used his fingers to wipe moisture from his eyes.
“I’m glad you like it, Pa,” he said. “It’s what I’ve been working on since I got here.”
“I was wondering what you’ve been up to,” his father said. “I should’ve known it was another crazy invention.”
Benny nodded, smiling. “I’m sorry Pa, but I have to leave. I’m to meet my friends at Alfred’s for lunch before we leave.”
Benny’s father nodded. “Don’t worry about it, son. I was glad to see you, but you’ve got to make your own life now. Live it well.”
Benny bent to hug his father. When he stood, he wiped tears away before pushing his spectacles back in place.
“Take care, son. Be your
own man, but be the best you can be.”
Benny nodded. “Thanks Pa. You take care too. Make sure you get out and live life. Don’t just stay cooped up in here.”
His father nodded. “It’s a deal.”
Benny smiled and turned toward the door. Grabbing the pack from the hook on the wall, he shot one last look back in the room, meeting his father’s good eye before pulling the door closed. He stopped outside the door, collecting himself before exiting the building.
As he crossed town, he thought about the visit. His father was right; he needed to stop allowing the past to affect him. It was time move on; time to live for the future.
The familiar sights he passed seemed happier, brighter than before. The old counting house was a nice place to work, not just the place where he’d earned enough to buy his father’s apartment. The people he passed smiled and waved. Rather than seeing the boy who had caused the death of his mother and best friend, he now felt that they just saw one of their own, returned to visit.
When Alfred’s Inn came into view, Benny found himself whistling a happy tune. The sun overhead made the day cheery while the cool breeze off the lake moderated the midday heat.
He entered the inn, scanning the place for familiar faces. There were many, mostly town-folk he’d seen countless times over the years. Among them, he found his friends and approached their table.
“Hi, guys. You made it,” Benny said with a grin.
“Hi, Benny,” Brock replied. “We were wondering if you were coming.”
Benny’s grin widened. “Of course I’m coming. I have to return to the Academy. My future awaits.”
CHAPTER 7
The trees parted to reveal buildings clustered along the road ahead. As he entered town, Brock could see brief glimpses of the lake between the buildings. The road came to an intersection, and the group turned north. A boy, just a few years younger than Brock, ran from glowlamp to glowlamp, activating them in the dim light of dusk. People completing the day’s business milled about on the streets of Fallbrandt.
Brock felt a spike of anticipation when a sign depicting a headless woman with her arms spread wide came into view. Though only a few weeks had passed since their last visit to The Quiet Woman, it felt much longer due to the miles they had traveled. He quickened his step as he approached the inn and led the others inside.
The dining room was busy, the tables filled with local women. Six men occupied one rogue table in a corner, making them the only men in the room other than the waiter and bartender. Brock’s eyes searched the room for an open table. When he found no other option, he made for the bar.
“Hi, James,” Brock said as he sat on a stool.
The bartender spun around, flashing the white smile of his perfect teeth. “Hi, Brock. Back from your trip to Nor Torin then?”
“Yep. We’re back, and we’re hungry. We haven’t missed dinner, have we?” Brock asked as Ashland grabbed the stool to his left.
James shook his head. “No. You’re just in time. Garret and Tipper should be bringing it out any minute.”
“Great. I’m starving,” Benny said as he grabbed the stool to Brock’s right. He thumbed toward Cameron. “And don’t even get this one started about food.”
As Cam took his seat, Lars laughed and clapped him on the back. “He’s got you again, DeSanus.”
Smiling at the group, James leaned on the bar. “I assume you’re all thirsty as well. Could you go for some wine, then?”
Brock nodded. “Yes please. Wine for everyone.”
James nodded and stepped away.
Brock took survey of the room. Dory was at her usual table, entertaining friends and patrons. Her eyes glanced toward Brock, showing instant recognition. She smiled, rising to her feet. The curvy bar owner weaved her way through the crowd, her long brown hair framing the smile on her handsome face.
“It’s good to see you, Brock,” she said as she leaned in for a hug.
She turned her attention to Ashland, giving her a warm hug. “I’m glad you’re back safe and sound, dear.”
“It’s good to be back, Dory,” Ashland replied.
“Will you be staying the night?” Dory asked.
Brock nodded. “We’ll need two rooms for the night. We leave tomorrow after breakfast.”
Dory smiled. “Wonderful. Please do stop by and say hi to the ladies after you’ve eaten.”
“I will,” Brock replied.
She glanced toward the kitchen. “Ah, I see Tipper and Garrett are bringing the food out.”
When he turned toward the bar, Brock found a full glass of red wine waiting. Looking toward the kitchen, he saw James emerge with a large tray of full plates. The bartender looped behind the bar and delivered a plate to each of them. The steaming meat pie smelled delicious.
The group ate in silence, eager to consume the hot meal after spending the past two nights eating trail rations. As they finished eating, Tipper slipped behind the bar to join James.
“Hi, Brock,” Tipper said, sporting a toothy grin.
“Hi, Tip. It’s good to see you,” Brock replied. “Are you working all night?”
Tipper nodded. “Yeah. Among other things, I’ll have to help clear the tables and then wash the dishes. I had a small break so I thought I’d come say hi.”
“Okay. I guess we’ll have to catch up in the morning, then. It won’t be a late night for us. We’re exhausted,” Brock said.
Tipper nodded, shifting his focus. “Hi, Ashland. Are you taking care of Brock? He’d likely kill himself if someone wasn’t watching out for him.”
She smiled. “Yes, Tipper. I’m sure he’d find a way to blow himself up if we weren’t around.”
“Wait a minute. I’m not that bad,” Brock said, laughing.
Tipper grinned as he grabbed their empty plates. “So you say, Brock.”
As Tipper spun to return to the kitchen, Cam reached out and grabbed his arm. The thin blonde boy looked at Cam, raising an eyebrow. “Do you need something, Cam?”
Cameron nodded. “I’m still hungry.”
“Ah ha!” Lars laughed, smacking Cam on the back as Cam grinned at Lars.
. . .
Brock put an arm around Ashland, pulling her close as they walked in the cool shade of the thick pines that lined the road.
“It was good to see Tipper and Libby again.” Ashland said to Brock.
“Yeah.” Brock agreed, reflecting on the conversation with the couple over breakfast. “They’ve certainly become close. I wouldn’t be surprised if they declared themselves married the next time we see them.”
“What do you mean, declared married?” Lars asked.
“They’re both Unchosen, Lars. The law won’t allow them to truly get married, at least not by the Ministry,” Ashland responded. “The most they can do is pledge themselves to each other and declare themselves husband and wife, though the Empire will never acknowledge it.”
“I don’t get it.” Lars looked confused. “I knew that Unchosen were treated differently but that doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s not right,” Brock agreed. “They have just as much right to live their lives as anyone else. Somehow, it needs to change.”
Benny looked toward Brock. “You’re right, Brock. Maybe when we’re Masters, we can do something to change how things work.”
Lars snorted. “You’re about as likely to change the seasons. The Empire’s been around a long time now. How can we hope to change things that have been the same for so long?”
“You never know, Lars,” Brock replied. “Eventually, it has to change. Maybe it’ll be in our lifetime.”
Ashland leaned into Brock, squeezing his hand. “I hope so.”
Brock smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek
The morning suddenly became brighter, causing him to look ahead. The forest opened to reveal the Academy lawn stretching before them. Two miles long and nearly as wide, the lawn boasted a line of thick pines surrounding the grassy fields. Clumps of trees were sca
ttered among the space, casting long shadows away from the morning sun that was peeking between two eastern peaks. A huge building loomed at the far end the field. Although the building had been Brock’s home for a year, he was still learning new things about it.
Consisting of many smaller buildings connected together with hallways, the Academy had a disjointed appearance. The long wings housing the students stretched outward, making the building seem as if it were reaching out to hug the lawn before it.
He glanced to the east, reflecting back on the Catapult Challenge while staring at the field where they had made the infamous launch. He turned his head to gaze at the tower that terminated the Girls’ Wing. The circular tower stood over two miles from the catapult launch point. Brock remained amazed that the catapult had launched a heavy metal ball that far, though he knew now that the siege engine had been charged with the Chaos rune of Power. His thoughts drifted, reflecting on how the fateful incident had led them to find the book on Chaos hidden in the walls of the damaged tower. If they hadn’t found the book, he’d have never learned what Chaos was or how to harness it. Without Chaos, he and Ashland would now be dead at the hands of Corbin Ringholdt.
He looked at her and a stream of joy bubbled inside when she smiled back. He was routinely amazed that he had somehow earned the attention of this amazing girl. The connection they had was something deep, something special. I love you. He sent to her. She looked at him again, smiling. I love you too, she replied in his head. Interesting. What else could he do with telepathy? He closed his eyes, pushing some very inappropriate thoughts toward Ashland.
Hearing her gasp, he opened his eyes to find her mouth and eyes open wide. She swatted him.
“You’re so bad, Brock Talenz,” she said, laughing.
He chuckled. Yes, this telepathy thing could be useful.
His eyes shifted back to their destination. Now a half-mile ahead, Brock saw another group of students climbing the stairs to the main hall before disappearing inside. Returning students were to arrive prior to sundown while new students were due the following morning. He expected students to be arriving throughout the day today.
The Emblem Throne (The Runes of Issalia Book 2) Page 4