by Beth Reason
Chapter 15
"I feel foolish."
Lendyl grinned at his mentor, his teacher, his companion in arms. "You look foolish, too."
Wren sighed heavily at himself in the mirror. He had readily agreed to Mrs. Lorne's request. In fact, he wouldn't have it any other way. He would go with Tenet and keep his life safe. If he had to look like a Southlander to pull it off, so be it. He had to wear camouflage to hunt, did he not? He'd had to blend in to different septads before his invasion, hadn't he? Wearing a disguise to see a mission through was nothing new. He was a warrior. He could handle it, no matter how silly he looked.
His hair was cut.
His face was made more pale with a chemical that burned.
His Celtist clothing replaced with the ridiculous uniform of a Southland soldier and he itched and scratched in places that had never before before been itchy or scratchy.
The boots pinched.
The stockings were hot and tight.
The gun belt on his hips dug into his sensitive area when he sat.
But the worst for Wren was the loss of his beard. His beautiful, soft beard that he'd been growing since he was but a boy was shaved off, just like Tenet's. He'd never seen his jaw as a man and didn't like the way it jutted out in hard angles. He didn't like that there was a cleft in his chin, something he had completely forgotten was there. He didn't like how cold it felt, how naked. And Lendyl and Takar laughing over his shoulder was not helping!
"You will shave as well," he ordered them in his humiliation.
Takar shook his head. "No."
Lendyl stopped his laughing and frowned. His beard was finally starting to really fill in like a man's and he was loathed to get rid of it. "Why should we need to shave as well? We are not pretending to be soldiers."
"There will be no shaving of this beard," Takar said firmly, tugging his thick whiskers and making Wren miss his own all the more.
"You will shave to teach you a lesson on...on...humility," Wren said, trying to sound official. He gave a firm nod. "Yes, and then you will meditate."
Lendyl sighed. "Yes, sir." He turned and walked out of the room to find the man with the clippers who took off Wren's beard.
"Brother, that was cruel," Takar said with a gleam in his eye.
Wren gave a little laugh. "It won't hurt the boy. Besides, he will have an easier time here without his whiskers. You would, too."
Takar leaned back against the wall and shrugged. "I cannot hide what I am. I never could. Let me keep my whiskers. I never ask for anything."
Wren looked at his younger brother, really looked at him for the first time in many years, and felt the old sadness inside once again. "Takar," he said gently. "There is no shame in who you are. You are a proud warrior of the Ogden septad. Your hands have slain our enemy and fed our people. You..."
"Enough, brother," Takar said in a low voice. "You need not build me up yet again. I know my own score." He stood up and brushed a hair off Wren's shoulder. "Besides, I ride with tanks. It is you who should be concerned. Are you certain you can do this?"
Takar had never questioned his brother openly before, and that alone spoke of his deep concern. Wren remembered when Takar was young, how gentle he was, how innocent. He remembered their fun as boys, splashing in the river together and playing tricks on other children. He remembered Takar's tears when their father died in battle, and his mother's harsh words over what she called his "womanly behavior". She accused him of dishonoring his fallen father with his outburst, and the words seemed to change Takar overnight. Wren wished he could go back in time and stop his mother's words before they were said. They were spoken in her pain. She lashed out at a child who would have been much better suited to the life of a male nurturer than a warrior. Wren suddenly wanted to know what an adult Takar would be like if his mother had let nature taken its course. He wondered if that Takar would have been happy.
He clamped his hand on Takar's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You know my skill with a bow, and you know that I can hunt. Rest assured that if the need comes to do either, I will not hesitate. You ride with tanks, and that is the bigger worry to me. Keep safe, Takar. There is no need to keep proving yourself to anyone." Takar's eyes darkened, but Wren was not finished. "Be honorable in battle, but remember that it is me who will mourn if you are lost." He squeezed Takar's shoulder harder, hoping the man knew that he was loved and hoping that would keep him from doing something stupid on the battlefield.
Takar cleared his throat and stepped away. He could not look his brother in the eye any longer and turned to stare out the door. He had no idea his brother knew him so well, then decided he should not be so surprised after all. Wren was everything he always wished he himself could be. Wren was strong and sure, where Takar always felt lost and scared. He grew his muscles big to be just like Wren and fought in battle with the single-minded focus of earning Wren's respect. He tried his hardest to be like Wren in other ways, and those failures with women just fueled his determination to strive for the same perfection that so easily came to his big brother. Had Wren shown the slightest bit of conceit at his own abilities, or just once cracked a smile of derision at Takar's efforts, Takar knew he would have loathed his brother and it would have made them enemies. But Wren was always kind, always patient, always understanding and so quick with praise that Takar never felt anything but love for the man. That Wren knew the whole time the inner turmoils Takar never spoke out loud was almost too much, and he felt a deep shame in spite of Wren's understanding. It was too much. He could not hear such things from the man he idolized, then watch that man ride away to a foreign land. He could not keep thinking of it or he'd break down right there.
So, Takar stared out the door. He let his mind go blank. He pushed away all the old hurts and bad feelings and focused on the artificial light dangling from the ceiling instead. He heard Wren sigh, then saw him put the ridiculous hat on out of the corner of his eye. He glanced in Wren's direction and couldn't help the snort of amusement that slipped out of his mouth.
Wren's frown deepened, making the look all the more inane and Takar laughed outright, the moment of uncomfortable seriousness broken. He thumped his brother on the shoulder. "I should have a picture of this moment to take out and look at during my sad days."
Wren couldn't help but smile. He tried very hard to keep his lips pressed in a firm line, but he truly did look idiotic. He let his grin spread and thumped his brother back. "Come. The time to leave is soon."
Wren had easily passed Krupkie's tests, much to the surprise of pretty much everyone on the base, save Scarab. She had seen him hunt difficult game. She had seen him in action, morphing himself to take on the characteristics of the various animals in order to score a large kill. And being in and among the warriors, she knew of his abilities at planning and executing an attack on a septad. He wasn't bragging when he told Tenet that there was a reason his enemies left him alone, he was simply telling the truth. It often struck Scarab that if he had been a Southlander, he most likely would have been in her line of work. What did surprise her was the level of shock from all of the others.
"They are Celtists, not morons," she said to Fratz when his jaw dropped to the floor when Wren spoke in the accent of a Southlander from the border region. He'd only had a couple hours with his trainer, and though his inflection was still a little off, the overall cadence and tone were correct for the area he was going to claim was his homeland.
"I never said they be dumb," Fratz insisted. "I be with the army twenty years and I haven't lost my accent yet." He shook his head and held his hand out to Wren. "Ya be findin' me impressed, Wren."
Lendyl held his hand self consciously over his naked chin. "You sound like a true Southlander to be sure," he agreed.
Takar gave a little laugh. "How would you know, whelp?"
"None of that," Wren said, continuing to use the Southland accent like his trainer suggested. The man had told Wren it would get easier the more he did it and the best way to pe
rfect the accent would be to practice, practice, practice. "You are in charge now, Takar, and you will not abuse your power." He looked to Tenet, who nodded his approval at the way the sentence was structured.
"I do not understand why I must stay behind," Lendyl whined.
"You are not staying behind," Wren explained again carefully. "You will be part of the forward advance with the army. There will be glory for you still, just be patient. And in the meantime, meditate on why it is you seek such glory from the Mother."
Tenet made a face and shook his head. "Oh, don't mention the Mother."
"Right," Wren said, knowing that would probably be the hardest part of all. Even harder than walking in the horribly uncomfortable shoes.
"This isn't going to work," Scarab blurted out in her anxiety.
"This was your idea," said Major Krupkie, entering the transport hanger where the transport waited to take Tenet away. "I'll trade my man back in. Just say the word."
Scarab closed her mouth and shook her head. The time for Tenet to leave was almost on them and she battled her panic. The plan was good. The plan was solid. The plan was their best chance. She just had to keep repeating that to herself until she believed it. Scarab turned to Tenet. He was already dressed in simple Southland clothes, similar to the ones she'd seen him wearing in the photographs she'd studied before she took his bounty. It sent a shiver through her until she looked at his eyes. He was not that Tenet any longer. He was her Tenet. He would go there, get their daughter, and then wait for her to rescue him again. They'd been there before, they'd just have to do it again.
"Get in, keep your head straight, and wait for me," she told him for the hundredth time.
Tenet knew her fears. She had made love to him the night before with a terrified passion that told him all he needed to know. "I will wait for you. I will always wait for you to come rescue me from that awful place." He smiled and gently cupped her face. "You can drag my sorry ass out of there and I'll go with you just as willingly as I did last time."
Scarab wanted to believe him. She really, really did. She swallowed hard. "You have your com chip?"
"Yes."
"And the low frequency tracker?"
Tenet smiled in good-natured humor. "Yes, ma'am." He kissed her forehead. "I've got everything I need. All you have to do is track me down."
Scarab closed her eyes and leaned in, resting her forehead on his. She did not want him to go. She never imagined it would be so hard to be separated from him and already she felt the loss. "Keep your eyes open down there," she whispered. "You remember everything I've taught you."
"I will," he promised quietly.
"Tell Violet..." Scarab had to swallow the lump in her throat. "Tell Violet that it's almost time for the wraith to come."
Tenet gave a small, confused laugh. "Okay. I assume she'll know what that means?"
Scarab nodded, then pulled her head back to look Tenet in the eyes. "Tenet, you know I..."
Tenet put his finger on her mouth quickly. She was going to say she loved him. He knew it. "No," he whispered harshly. "Don't say it like it's your last chance to get it out." Scarab's eyes filled with tears. "Do not tell me you love me like you'll never see me again," he finished in broken words before pulling her to him and kissing her deeply. When he pulled away he wiped a tear off her cheek with a shaking thumb. "I love you, you stubborn, hard-headed woman. And you can finally say the damn words back when you find me. Okay?"
Scarab nodded numbly as Tenet turned and got into the waiting transport. She grabbed Wren by the arm as he passed. "That man is my very life's blood, Wren McKay," she said in the Celtist language of prayer, meaning it for Wren's ears alone. "So help me, if you lose my life's blood, I will not rest until I take yours."
Wren gripped Scarab's forearm in the fashion of a true warrior bond. "I vow my life for his," he answered firmly. "You have my word." Scarab looked at him in the eye for a moment before nodding and stepping away. He turned and waved goodbye to his brother in the warrior sign language and entered the transport. In seconds they were gone.
Scarab felt as if her heart was leaving with Tenet and fought the urge to run after the transport. Fratz stepped up beside her and placed his big hand on her shoulder. Too overcome to do anything else, she shocked the hell out of the man by leaning into him for support.
"We be gettin' him back, missy," Fratz assured her quietly.
Yes, she would. Scarab drew a deep breath and turned to Major Krupkie. "Let's go."
Major Krupkie nodded and motioned Scarab towards a ground transport. "Load up."
The mission to get Tenet back was far more dangerous than Tenet's part in the plan. Tenet would arrive at an outlying farm where the farmers would see Wren as a soldier and do as they'd been trained to do their whole lives and say nothing. They'd capitulate to the perceived authority, and Tenet would have an easy ride to the corn sector. Once there, they'd be met by a team of trained soldiers who would make sure that Tenet arrived where he was supposed to be for the big reveal at the proper time. Southland wasn't expecting it, so they wouldn't even be on the lookout. If they were intercepted, they had forged bounty paperwork that would pass muster under all but the most intense scrutiny, and with all the ado about the early harvests, there was little chance anyone would scrutinize so closely.
Scarab and her team would travel south in a similar fashion. However, by then, Tenet's presence would be known. There was no way to avoid that. The big plan hinged on Tenet's reintroduction to society. While Bradwin would know that something was fishy, he wouldn't know exactly what. He'd clamp down security, though, both along the border and especially around his corn compound. And while the Borderlanders knew nothing beat a good old fashioned human brain, they couldn't be so blind as to ignore the technological advantages Southland had. Scarab would need to know what she'd be up against.
Carlton hosted a test facility of sorts, a bunker deep under ground where the stolen tech smuggled over the border was examined, and where countermeasures were developed. Southland consistently underestimated Borderlanders' intelligence, and they were bound and determined not to have the same blind spot. The Borderlands soldiers preferred to fight with guns and tanks. But that didn't mean they couldn't whip out a guided laser if they had to.
"You'll get the afternoon and night to train," Krupkie said to Scarab, Lendyl, and Takar. Though the two warriors would be part of the army advance and not on the ground with Scarab, they did need to learn how to shoot more than a bow, and Scarab talked Krupkie into letting them join her in training.
Scarab nodded. "It'll be enough for me."
"I'll see they get the full trainin', missy," Fratz assured her. Though he wanted to accompany Scarab and the extraction team, he knew that type of mission was not his forte. He was very bad at sneaking. He was, however, excellent at charging. He'd lead the advance of tanks at the very front of the line with his new warrior compatriots by his side.
The transport turned and started up the side of a hill, then stopped at a large door. In seconds the door began to lift and as soon as the roof of the transport was clear, the driver pushed forward into an enormous tunnel that turned sharply downward. Lendyl, unused to travel in such a large vehicle, clamped his hand over his mouth and begged his stomach to stop flip-flopping inside. He would be a poor warrior indeed if he lost his breakfast on the floor!
The transport slowed when the floor leveled out and then stopped in front of another large door. Krupkie instructed everyone to exit the vehicle, then gave instructions to the driver to wait for her. "I'll bring you in and leave you in Gundersson's hands." A guard came forward and spoke with Krupkie for a moment before giving a wave. A motor sounded and then the door began to open. Krupkie motioned for everyone to follow, and walked through.
The group was stunned silent at the room they entered. It was unlike anything the warriors had seen, and even Scarab was impressed. The room was an enormous, large cavern in the very base of the mountain that housed what appeared
to be some gigantic laboratory. There were machines that hummed as people pressed buttons. Soldiers were bent over tables, hard at work on various projects, and the room was lined with shelves, cubbies, nooks and crannies filled with all sorts of weapons and gadgets. In the very center of the room was a large cage, inside which someone stood and shot a laser-type weapon at a target. It was as if Scarab's fondest wish had come true.
"Whoa," she said, unable to think of anything else.
Major Krupkie's mouth turned up in a half smile. "Whoa is right. It took us twelve years to build this facility. Only one like it in the nation. This is where we research and develop weapons and counter measures. A soldier's wet dream."
"A hunter's, too," Scarab admitted, craning her head around to look at the weapons that lined the wall. "What I wouldn't have given for one of these..."
"Don't touch that!" came a booming voice from across the room. Scarab turned to see Lendyl's hand inches from a huge turret-style weapon.
"Lendyl!" she hissed.
"Krupkie, what did I tell you about bringing your brutes in here unannounced screwing with my..."
Scarab turned slowly as the man spoke until his words trailed off. She stared at him, unable to believe her eyes for a moment before she threw herself into his arms. "Weevil!"
"Holy shit! As I live and breathe!" He laughed and squeezed her tightly. "It's my sweetheart finally come back to me! They said they had someone for me to train. I never dreamed it was you!"
Scarab pulled away and grinned at him. She hadn't heard a peep about him since he helped her and Tenet cross the border. "How in the hell did you end up here?"
Weevil ran a hand through his crazy, mostly white hair and gave her a wry smile. "I seemed to have had a certain bug infestation that could not be ignored. It left me with few options."
He meant for her to feel bad, but she just couldn't. "Hey, you're lucky to be alive."
Weevil scoffed, torn between annoyance and amusement. "No thanks to you!"
Takar looked between the two with concern. The man was clearly someone Mrs. Lorne knew, yet he was taking liberties with a married woman, and friend or not, that did not sit right with Takar. He nodded towards the man's hand that had found its way to Mrs. Lorne's behind. "You will remove your hand now," Takar said with all the authority he felt Wren himself would have delivered.
Weevil was struck dumb by the big warrior. His mouth went dry as he took in the huge muscles, the large, untamed beard, the fierce look in the man's eyes. For the first time in too many years to count, Weevil was rendered speechless. He took his hand away from Scarab's ass and swallowed hard, trying to regain his senses.
Scarab lifted an eyebrow. So Weevil had his eye on Takar, did he? She shook her head. Hey, at least it would keep his hands off her. "So what are you doing with the army, Weevil? I never pegged you for a military man."
Weevil tore his gaze away from the warrior and cleared his throat. "As you said, sweet cheeks, I'm no soldier. But they made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
"Mr. Valance was allowed to live if he worked for us," Major Krupkie confirmed.
"See why I couldn't refuse?" Weevil's eyes flashed with a hint of his old mischief. "Besides," he spread his arms wide. "Look at this! It's quite an upgrade from my old lab, and not a single damn window in the place!"
"He's got a thing with windows," she told Fratz.
Fratz had met the one who called himself Weevil several times, and none of those interactions were good memories. The man was clearly crazy, and Fratz often secretly questioned Krupkie's decision to give him free reign of the research facility. However, in the years he'd been running the department, they'd produced many new weapons and instituted several new policies that would admittedly serve them well. The man had merit. That still didn't make him any easier to be around. "We can stand around yakkin' or we can train," Fratz said simply, breaking up reunion time.
"I will leave them in your hands, Mr. Valance," Krupkie said. "Fratz, a word?" Fratz followed the Major out as Weevil lead the others on a small tour of the facility.
"Look at these machines!" he said excitedly. "They all go pop and whiz and whir and produce such fabulous contraptions of mass destruction."
"What does this one do?" Scarab asked, pointing to a large machine that three people worked on.
Weevil shrugged. "Dunno. We just got it in. We're gonna get it up and running and look." Takar scoffed and Weevil turned to him. "You have a problem with my methods, Mr...?"
"Takar," he said, introducing himself gruffly. "It is a foolish man who will take such risks."
Weevil's eyes danced with excitement. "Ah, but that is my job. I take the risks to keep the rest of you people safe."
"What if that machine kills when you get it running?"
Weevil shrugged. "Then we turn it off and reconfigure it." He sighed when the warrior opened his mouth to speak again. "It's a production machine we sneaked out of a defunct bot factory near the southern border, Takar. It's not a weapon in itself. What, specifically, it produces, that's the unknown. But you can bet your beautiful ass I fully intend to find out!"
Takar was stunned by the man's words. Beautiful ass? He looked away, glad Wren had let him keep his beard when he felt his cheeks burn. What a peculiar man! He would surely meditate on the interaction later.
Weevil led them past rows of freshly produced weapons. "Our capabilities are limited, and the army's building another facility, strictly for production. Until then, I've got my little worker bees busy around the hive. And now, we get to have ourselves a war!" He clapped his hands excitedly, then stopped and snapped his fingers, calling for a helper. When the soldier appeared, Weevil ordered him to prepare a shooting chamber.
Scarab watched Weevil and was surprised to see how much the man had changed. He was still eccentric, that much was clear by the wild hair and the mismatched shoes. He still peppered his speech with the ribald comments she learned to expect, only now, they didn't carry any weight to them. They were simply words, not promises or threats. He seemed older, far older than the six year gap should have made him. Perhaps it was the weight of responsibility. Perhaps it was the heat she and Tenet had brought down on him. Whatever it was, something had changed in Weevil and Scarab didn't know how to take him anymore.
Fratz returned, joining the group silently until Weevil started pulling out weapons. Weevil used military expressions that Fratz knew the warriors would never have heard before and he acted as an interpreter of sorts. Takar was silently pleased that the soldier said what his pride would not allow him to ask, and paid careful attention to the instructions. Lendyl looked confused, and Takar knew he'd have to go over it with him again away from the hearing of the others. When the explanations were finished for three weapons, Weevil instructed one of his people to show the warriors and Fratz to the firing range.
"This little desert bug knows the ins and outs of these guns. I've got something special for her. You go along." When he saw Takar look to Scarab for permission, he shooed his hands at them. "Go on, kiddies. Go play. Mummy needs to look over her new toys. Scoot."
Fratz guided the warriors to the center cage and trained them, allowing Scarab and Weevil their own time.
"Jesus, kid. What the hell did you get yourselves into?" Weevil hissed as soon as the group was out of hearing range.
"Same old," Scarab said, taking a seat in the little cubicle Weevil called his headquarters.
Weevil sighed. "You just couldn't stay hidden. After all that work I did erasing you..." He shook his head. "Guess you're not really to blame. Jace was pretty determined."
"Was," Scarab said pointedly, giving Weevil a look that told the story.
Weevil whistled low. He always knew Scarab was good. But to take out Jace? "Damn girl. Well, one enemy down, about three million to go."
Scarab nodded. "Take them out one by one. That's the plan. I'm glad we've got some unexpected friends along the way, though."
Weevil got a bashful look. "Aw, shucks,"
he said in an affected manner that hinted at his old playfulness. "You're gonna make me blush, ma'am."
Scarab smiled. "I wonder if we'll find any more along the way?" she hinted hopefully.
Weevil knew was asking about Hark and Enna, the two hunters who helped Scarab and Tenet reach Weevil safely when they ran. Clever girl, he thought. She had no idea what had become of them, and didn't know if it was safe to ask. Weevil was pleased to know her life as a mother hadn't completely rotted her brain. "I don't think so. A lot of contracts were canceled by the league after you left and many hunters were offered positions south of the desert."
Hark and Enna were alive and well, and that's all she needed to know. A six year old fear released from inside her. Hark and Enna helped train her. They were the closest thing she had to friends for her years of hunting and the guilt that she may have lead to their deaths often weighed heavily on her when she'd let herself stop and think about them. They lived. They were safe. Scarab shot Weevil a smile.
Weevil looked Scarab over. She was older by years, but she looked younger somehow. It took a few minutes for it to dawn on him that she was happy, that she had been having a good life. Her eyes were tired. Her muscles were tense. But the past six years had been very good to her, and very good for her. She was a young woman, and she finally looked like one. He wished he could be a fly on the wall of her home. He simply could not imagine her in any sort of domestic role. He felt that familiar paternal tug towards her that he never felt for anyone else, even his own random children.
"I'd chitchat about old times and catch up on new, but we've really got to get you prepped. You look soft," he said.
Scarab's look turned challenging. "Soft? I'll have you know I can run down a deer."
Weevil cackled. "And what are deer using for weapons these days, hm? Running's one thing. Ducking is more important. You wouldn't believe how far some of this shit has come. They developed a new electromagnetic system that's positively blowing up the weapons tech, pun definitely intended. If you're going to rescue that hunk of a man of yours, you're going to need my help."
As Weevil had said, a breakthrough in electromagnetic technology had created an entirely new class of weapons and Scarab spent the afternoon learning the new ropes. The biggest advantage of the weapons was they they could either kill or simply incapacitate the victim, depending on the settings on the gun and type of shot used. From what the Borderlands spies had learned, the Southland military was training with the stun option, not the kill.
"Don't get it in your head they've gone weak, though," Weevil warned Scarab. "Once I roll out The Beast, I think they'll change their settings out of fear."
Scarab quirked an eyebrow. "The Beast?"
Weevil's face spread in a wide, slightly maniacal grin. "Oh baby you've never seen anything like it."
"Is it a weapon?"
Weevil clutched his chest dramatically. "Four years I've spent tweaking, coaxing, and honing and you call the love of my life a mere weapon? For shame, lady. For shame!"
"I thought I was the love of your life," Scarab said wryly.
Weevil grinned again. "Jealous of a little metal, sweetheart? Well, you should be. You could screw what? Five, maybe six people at once if you get creative?" Scarab couldn't help the blush that creeped up her neck. Even after all the years she knew him, Weevil still had the ability to embarrass her with just a few words. "The Beast, she can screw thousands at once!" He cackled at his own cleverness, and Scarab sighed and shook her head. Perhaps he hadn't changed that much after all.
"So what does The Beast do?"
"Wins," Weevil said firmly. "Now, back to what you need to know."
After Weevil crammed so much information into Scarab that she was sure she'd never remember it all, he sent her off to learn how to use the new weaponry with the other warriors. Unlike those who'd be involved with the forward offensive, Scarab's weapons were compact, easy to carry and hide, but difficult to aim. She would not give up, though, and soon her old skills with a handgun began to return. By the time her hand tingled with the excess electricity that recoiled from a shot, it was late evening and Fratz called for them to break for a few hours to eat and rest.
"Makes you all tingly inside, doesn't it?" Weevil asked as Scarab walked past, shaking her hand.
Scarab shook her arm and clenched her fist to try and get proper feeling back. "It's weird. I feel both numb and over-stimulated at the same time."
Weevil waggled his eyebrows. "Over-stimulated, you say? I've got the cure for that." He said the words, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. Once again, Scarab got the feeling that his heart just wasn't into it.
She shook her head and gave him a smile. "Thanks for the offer, but I'd probably zap your dick right about now."
Weevil threw his head back and laughed, and Scarab gave a small salute before trotting off to follow Lendyl to the small mess hall at the end of the huge cavern. The sound of a shot brought Weevil's attention back to the shooting galleries and he noticed the big warrior, Takar, was still working hard. He moved to sit on the rail of the cages to watch the shots from behind. Though the long weapon was new to the warrior, he was obviously well trained in handling other weapons. Weevil watched as he drew the gun to his shoulder, carefully sighted down the barrel, and drew and held a deep breath. When the gun went off, the warrior stood frozen for a second, then let out a loud swear that made Weevil chuckle.
Takar whipped around at the laughing. He thought he was alone. "It is unwise to laugh at a Celtist warrior," he said in his most threatening voice to hide his own frustration and humiliation. He simply could not get the hang of the unfamiliar scope, and no matter what he tried, his shots went far left.
Weevil didn't seem fazed by the man's deep, tough voice or dark and brooding scowl. He hopped off the fence and entered the cage, pointing to the gun. "I notice you're a southpaw."
Takar's frown deepened. "I do not know the meaning of southpaw," he said, upset that he had to admit it for the conversation to continue.
"Lefty," Weevil said, wiggling the fingers of his left hand. "You favor your left hand."
Takar nodded.
"These digital scopes are preset for righties." He held his hand out for the gun and Takar reluctantly handed it over. Weevil pressed a couple buttons, looked through the display, then nodded and passed the gun back to Takar. "There. That should be better, even though you've been making kill shots regardless."
Takar glanced in the scope then turned to face the targets, very aware that Weevil still stood close. He willed his muscles to relax, then tensed, drew, and fired quickly, as if he were in battle. The shot was clean through the very center of the target and he felt a flood of relief. He felt validated.
Weevil whistled. "Nice shot, honey. I'd hate to be the one that pissed you off."
Takar turned and looked at Weevil, unsure of how to handle the man. "I...thank you for the assistance."
Weevil studied the large warrior. Up close, the man was even more intimidating, and yet Weevil felt no fear, only an old excitement he thought he'd never experience again. He tipped his head. "It is my pleasure. If there's any other way I can assist you, just let me know."
There was a twinkle and a look on Weevil's face that stirred something inside, and Takar instantly became uncomfortable. He took a small step back, and instantly cursed himself. He was a warrior, and yet something made him retreat. From what? The small man? One small, insignificant man. He was a warrior, a fierce defender of Ogden! He would not run from anyone.
Weevil watched the play of emotions in the warrior's eyes and was even more intrigued. "You don't have to be nervous. I won't bite. Unless you want me to."
Takar's eyes went wide and he decided he would run away. He turned and placed the weapon on the bench, then pushed past the man who set him on edge. He would meditate. He would ask the Mother for guidance. He would pray until his head was clear and he could think about the mission instead of the odd man who wanted to bite him. He was a
warrior and he had no time for such thoughts. He would pray until his head was clear and his body was calm. And if praying did not work, he would simply have to spend the night shooting until his body had no choice but to cool off and give in to exhaustion.