Wintermore (Aeon of Light Book 1) (12 page)

After a few minutes, Grandpa limps to the maple tree, leans against it, climbs down the bark, and plops his butt onto the blanket. “Been years since I last talked to that old dog, the damned fool.”

On the field, the officers separate into twos and move to designated stations.

The soldiers break formation and form groups following the officers.

Four older officers huddle in animate discussion, pointing and nodding to various spots on the field. After a few minutes, they salute, shake hands, and go their separate ways. Two officers leave the field in a fancy black carriage, and the other two men climb a ladder to a tall perch overlooking the men’s training.

“Who are those men?” Preta says.

“Those are the general officers of this district’s Iinian Guard from Bielston. Every three months they come to town and evaluate this province’s men, training, and readiness.”

“Every man?”

“Just the men fifteen to forty-five. They say republic,
ha
, but these bastards still own us if they want us—unless of course you’ve got the coin or are in what they consider the right company. Then again, some like your fool of a brother will give themselves freely to the Guard.”

“He’s not a fool,” Preta says.

“He’s most definitely a fool, and a talented fool at that. Though a fool nonetheless.”

Preta scans the field.

Archers line up to the left in front of short and long targets, to include a section where they traverse a maze, shooting in pairs.

In the center of the field, toward the back, an obstacle course is constructed with ropes and various barriers.

To the right, men throw blades and spikes at square and circular woodblocks with white circles painted on them.

And to the far right, men stand five abreast with muskets. An officer raises a stick, points, and thrusts his hand to the ground. The men fire as one in a white-and-grey puff of smoke. “Reload, ten seconds,” the officer says.

In the center, directly in front of Preta, two sections of men holding practice wooden swords and spears.

Watching for a few minutes, it’s clearly evident to Preta who’s skilled and who’s not, and who’s trying or just going through the motions.

Deet stays in the center of the field.

Yaz starts at the archer’s station on the left side. He zips through the maze hitting every target center mass, and transitions to the obstacle course, navigating it with ease.

At the blade and spike targets, Yaz joins Dix and some other friends.

They laugh and punch each other in the arms while waiting in line for their turn to throw.

Yaz and Dix square off in front of their targets.

Dix throws a blade, barely hitting the block’s edge.

Yaz throws, hitting center mass.

Dix releases his second blade, striking an inch from the bull’s eye.

Yaz releases a blade within a second of Dix’s second blade leaving his hand. Yaz’s blade strikes the center of Dix’s wooden handle, splitting it in two.

With open arms, Yaz bounces and laughs and turns toward Dix.

Dix, not thinking Yaz is funny, swings a punch, connecting with Yaz’s jaw.

Yaz staggers back while pinching his chin, then, unfazed, he grins at Dix.

Dix goes straight at Yaz again like a bull, his arms flailing.

Yaz dips to his left parrying Dix’s punch. He drops to his right knee and punches Dix in the gut with a right hook.

Dix grunts and folds.

Yaz hooks his left heel behind Dix’s right leg, locking it in tight, and right elbows above Dix’s knee.

Yaz thrusts through Dix and pulls his heel toward him while keeping it locked. Dix falls flat on his back, and his momentum carries Yaz onto the top of Dix’s chest.

Yaz smirks and gently taps Dix on each cheek. “The Ix slayer,
ha ha
—” Yaz says, standing up victorious with arms raised above his head. He extends his hand toward Dix still lying on the ground.

Dix, scowling, wounded pride, swats Yaz’s hand away, and he goes to a knee.

Yaz whispers something to Dix, and he extends his hand again.

With a goofy, twisted face, Dix glares at Yaz for a second, then he relents and grips Yaz’s hand with a loud crack.

Yaz yanks Dix to his feet and slaps him on the butt.

Friends again, they strut side by side toward their targets as they shove each other and laugh.

Grandpa nods. “Fool, girl, but a damned talented fool.”

Yaz twists his first blade from the wooden target and removes the second blade from what’s left of Dix’s crumbling handle. He swings his arms back and forth and moves to the sword sparring ring.

Yaz snatches a dull practice sword from a bulging wooden barrel and enters the center sparring ring as he twirls the hilt in between swinging his arms.

Deet grips a blunt metal sword and stands opposite Yaz.

“Brother,” Yaz says, raising his sword in his right hand.

Deet nods and matches his brother.

Yaz creeps forward with shuffle steps then strikes with an overhead slash toward Deet’s head.

Deet meets the slash midair with his sword, taking a step into the strike, and he stomps on Yaz’s foot. He thrusts upward with his left hand underneath Yaz’s sword arm, swinging him off balance.

The circle around the pit grows with cheering spectators.

Deet and Yaz dance in an intimate embrace, trading blows and snarls.

Deet snatches Yaz’s wrist and yanks it forward and pulls him close to him. He right elbows Yaz across his jaw.

Blood shoots out the corner of Yaz’s mouth and his head wrenches back.

Deet sweeps Yaz’s wrist and arm down, folding his body over and forward into Deet’s right knee. He stares at the back of his helpless brother’s skull for a second with his sword held high. He drops the sword butt, tapping the back of Yaz’s head. Deet releases his brother’s wrist.

Yaz falls to all fours. He glances up after a few seconds staring at the muddy grass and dirt. Yaz goes to his knees with hands on hips—blood and saliva drips from his lip, over his chin, and trickles to the ground. He spits, raises a knee, plants a foot, and stands.

Deet slaps Yaz’s back between the shoulder blades. “You all right
?
”

Yaz grabs his shirt and wipes the blood from his chin. “Good one, Brother.”

Preta opens her mouth toward Grandpa, but she doesn’t say a word.

Grandpa smirks. “There’s always someone better out there, never forget it.”

A FLOWER IN BLOOM

The next morning, Preta sits next to Nala at the kitchen table.

Nala sews a yellow dress draped over her knee, passing thread through the silk-like fabric.

“You need help, Nala?” Preta says.

“No thanks, kiddo. I’m almost done.”

“Only one more day to the wedding, are you excited?”

Nala lets out a puff of air. “One long day, and Yaz better not muck it up tonight.”

Yaz slaps his palm flat on the table, making the girls jump. “Hey now, I have it on good authority that Yaz never mucks up anything.”

Nala tosses the dress over the chair’s arm. “Do you have Deet’s party set for tonight?”

With a stupid grin plastered on his face, Yaz plops down and leans back in his chair. “Sure do, all set, good to go, no mucking up at all.”

Nala crosses her arms. “No whores.”

Yaz mimics Nala’s pose and crosses his arms. “Come on, Nal, don’t take all the fun out of it.”

She pounds her fist on the table. “Yaz, this isn’t a joke.”

“Don’t worry about it—it will all be good, and no whores, I promise.” Yaz grins and pinches his chin. “At least I don’t think so.”

Nala slaps the table and Yaz flinches. “No whores, Yaz.”

Yaz chuckles. “No whores, Nala. I got it the first time.”

“Can I go too?” Preta says.

Yaz winks at her. “Sure, the more the merrier.”

Nala’s eyes dart to Preta. “Absolutely not you can’t go.” She gives Yaz a dirty look. “Don’t encourage her.”

Preta leans forward and scowls, staring down Nala. “And why not? I wanna go to the party too.”

“Yeah, Nala, why not?” Yaz says, leaning back in his chair, smug grin on his face and hands behind his head. He rests both heels on the lip of the table.

“Shut it, idiot, you know why.” Nala whips a wooden spoon at Yaz. “And get your dirty, stinky feet off my table.”

Yaz ducks to the left and his feet slide off the table and hit the ground just as the spoon zips by his ear. His mouth curls into a cocky grin, and he leans back in his chair, propping his feet back up on the table. Satisfied with himself, he gazes at the ceiling, lost in his own greatness. “Not so easy hitting a moving target. I should know, I’m a professional.”

“
Uh-huh
,” Nala says.

Yaz lowers his head. “You know—”

Nala releases another spoon.

Yaz’s eyes snap open, and his smugness fades. The spoon strikes him in the middle of his forehead and bounces off. His feet slide off the table, and he tips over in his chair, crashing to the floor. Yaz grimaces and rubs his head as he gets to his feet. “
Ouch
, dang it.”

Nala rocks her head side to side. “I would say that was easy enough.”

Preta shakes Nala’s arm. “So where’s the party at?”

Yaz opens his mouth about to say the name, and Nala glares at him and smacks her hand on the table. He flinches and gulps. “I guess that’s my cue to go outside.”

Nala’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “It only took sixteen years, but now it seems you’re finely beginning to learn—
humph
—soon you’ll be on Roscoe’s level, never thought I’d see the day.”

Yaz sneers and walks away.

Again, Preta shakes Nala’s arm. “I wanna go to the party.”

“Forget about it, Preta, it’s out of the question. You’ll be with me at Lurrus’s cottage tonight. Get your stuff ready for class, and pack enough clothes to spend the night; we’re leaving for town soon.”

“Fine.” Preta pouts and goes to her bedroom. She slams her door and packs her things. Preta lies on her bed and visualizes her scheme to get to Deet’s party.

Over the next few minutes, she stares in deep thought as she draws shapes with her finger in the thin dust layer covering the floor.
I’ll show Nala. I have to get to Deet’s party. After all, it only happens once in a lifetime. Nala nor Deet nor Yaz nor anyone else will keep me from going
. Preta gets up off her bed, nods, and stuffs more things into her pack, ready to put her plan in motion.

Nala cracks the door and peeks inside the bedroom. “You almost ready to go? The boys are already in the cart.”

Preta slings her pack. “I’m ready when you are, Nala.”

Arms full of bags, they walk next to each other, one on either side of the muddy path weaving through the grassy yard.

“You girls good to go?” Deet says. “Do you need any help?”

Nala grunts and Preta smiles as they climb into the cart.

Yaz giggles watching Nala struggle with all her things.

Nala snaps her gaze toward him, and he goes silent, turns his head away, and coughs.

“Let’s go,” Nala says.

On the way to town, Preta reenacts her plan over and over in her head.

The boys drop Preta off at school, and she spends the entire morning pretending to learn, though in reality she refines her scheme:
Operation Deets
.

Class lets out, and Lurrus meets up with Preta. “Are you ready to go to my place and have some fun?”

Preta smiles, thinking of the party. “Definitely ready to go.”

Lurrus holds Preta’s hand and leads her to her cottage.

“So, Lurrus, are you excited for the big day?”

“Well, we’ve been waiting forever; it’s time we take the next step together.”

Preta, probing for answers about Deet’s party, slows her pace. “How come we’re not going to the party tonight?”

“
Oh, that
, well, it’s a boy’s thing.”

“Why can’t it be a girl’s thing too?”

Lurrus chuckles. “I guess they think they’ll never get to have any fun again, or it just gives them an excuse to act like fools.”

“What do they do at this party that we can’t go to?”

“
Oh
, they just play poker and gamble while whoopin’ and hollering drunk, gawking at girls and congratulating each other on how great they are.”

Preta, serious and focused, eyes Lurrus then she shrugs. “How about we go and gawk at the drunken fools and congratulate us on how great
we
are?”

Lurrus chuckles again. “It doesn’t work like that. They don’t want us ruining their fun.” She opens the door to her cottage, and they go inside. “Can I get you anything?”

Preta sighs, still not understanding what the big deal is. “Water, I guess.”

Lurrus shows Preta her elegant white silk dress and explains the plan for tomorrow’s wedding. “All right, Preta, so what do you want to do now?”

“Can you teach me how to play poker?” Preta says, thinking learning may help her later at Deet’s party.

“I didn’t know you were interested in cards.”

“Of course I am; the boys can’t have all the fun.”

“But I would think you’d rather draw or paint.”

“Not today, Lurrus. Today, I’m interested in cards. I know how to draw and paint, and today is for new experiences.”

Lurrus smiles. “I like your attitude. All right, let’s play cards then.” Lurrus teaches Preta poker, and they play for an hour until a cart rattles outside of Lurrus’s door. A horse clacks its feet on the cobblestones and puffs out air.

Yaz howls like a wolf. “This is going to be—
just wait
—you’ll see, Brother.”

“They’re here.” Preta jumps up from her chair. She opens the door and sees the boys on the cart.

Nala stands up and flicks Yaz’s ear with her finger. “
See
? That was easy too.”

They hop off the cart, and Nala strolls toward the door.

The boys turn in the other direction and strut away from the cottage.

Yaz spins back and points at Nala. “You know you have anger issues, Sister. You need to control that temper before it gets you in trouble.”

Nala sternly shakes her finger at Yaz. “Shut up, bear slayer, and no whores, I’m warning you.”

Yaz gyrates his body and sticks his tongue out at her. He spins away, shakes his butt, and waves Nala off. “I got it already.”