Chapter 9 The Swamps
CHAPTER NINE
THE SWAMPS
Thumb throbbing, Brune steadied the nail once more before bringing the hammer down. The clang rang in his ears, but he’d grown used to it. He was still trying to figure out how to not hit himself.
Fixing a roof wasn’t a skill he’d say he’d mastered.
It was only with Jonen’s deft eye and kind instruction that anything got done at all.
He was below Brune, steadying the ladder with his head cranked back.
His voluminous curls were pulled away from his eyes with a leather strap.
The whole effect made him look younger than his years.
Despite the shortening days, he was sweating under the sun. Brune had taken off his shirt, tying it around his waist, but the heat was still uncomfortable. Still, he found the task pleasant. He enjoyed being able to help, to give back some of the kindness he’d been extended.
When he wasn’t training with Henroen, Brune found himself spending a lot of time with Derry.
The slight omega was friendly, with a wide smile that lit up his entire face.
His family ran the smithy, and despite his small size, he could wield a hammer better than any smith Brune had ever seen.
He was especially deft with crafting delicate works.
Derry’s creations were highly sought after for courting gifts, or so the proud omega had boasted. Brune believed him.
He’d met the man through Ridan. One day, he’d been training on his own when the feisty omega appeared.
Much like he always did, he stormed into Brune’s presence and demanded his full attention.
Something Brune found himself giving without hesitation.
With only a grunt in explanation, he’d grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the smith where Derry had been struggling with a component.
Face smudged black with soot, his shorn hair dark with sweat; the omega’s smile had been particularly dazzling.
“Don’t break him,” Ridan had grunted, then left.
He never specified who he was talking about.
Derry had no problem teaching Brune everything he knew. His father had sustained an injury in the last battle, and Derry had taken over much of his work to give him time to heal. He was inundated with work and appreciated a spare set of hands.
Besides his instruction in blacksmithing—something Brune had no knowledge of—he was a gossip. Derry told Brune everything that was going on in the clan. Half the time, he didn’t know who he was talking about, but he was learning more about the clan’s customs and traditions.
It was when he was on his way back from Derry’s that he’d run into Jonen and Corric.
They’d been holding a steaming crock of heaven—Sehleh’s cooking—taking it to an omega who had just given birth.
Brune volunteered to tag along. It was then that Jonen noticed the roof of her tent was in poor repair, something that wouldn’t do with a young pup and the upcoming rainy season.
Neir was sitting outside her tent with Corric, cross-legged and enjoying the sunshine.
Corric held the small pup in a bundle, using his hand to keep the sun from the little one’s eyes.
Neir took the opportunity to eat without having to juggle the newborn, her eyes closed in pleasure every time she swallowed the food.
She was a pretty omega with long hair and big eyes. Even with the obvious exhaustion that comes along with having a pup, she was still radiant.
When he arrived, Neir told him she had been a childhood friend of Osmond’s.
She came to visit him during a joint clan meeting, and that’s when she met her alpha.
They mated, and she came to live with the Stone Blade.
Osmond was happy to have her there, and even stood Honor Guard at her daughter’s birth.
Brune had been unfamiliar with the term, but Jonen explained it was when a trusted friend or pack mate stood guard outside the tent they were giving birth in.
Originally, it started for safety. When the clans were much smaller, it was necessary to have someone guard the couple through the vulnerable process of birth.
That way, the sire could be present for the birth and support their mate through it, rather than worrying about protection.
Now it was largely ceremonial, and a great show of trust and honor.
“Corric, do you need some water? I can grab the skin for you,” Jonen asked, face hopeful.
The male omega didn’t even look at him, simply stretching for the skin that had looked too out of reach to snag the strap. Jonen deflated.
Brune had no idea what that was about, but the tension between the two was thick. Jonen smelled like moldy tea and Corric’s scent was particularly frosty.
Sensing the tension, Neir slurped the contents of her bowl. “I don’t know how to thank you enough,” she said with an embarrassed smile. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of your kindness.”
Corric chirped, nuzzling into the other omega. “Don’t be silly. You just had a pup. You should be resting and eating.” Neir seemed to appreciate the comfort of another omega, closing her eyes as she returned the affection. They started to purr as their scents mixed.
“Besides,” Jonen started, eyes going soft at the sight. “What would Kyu say if she came back and found you skinny and cold?”
“She’d probably be shocked to see a pup at all,” Neir said with a soft laugh.
Brune stopped hammering to give them his full attention. “Did she not know you were pregnant?”
“No,” Neir said wistfully. “Kyu left for a Long Hunt right after we mated. I found out I was pregnant with Merle after she left.”
“What’s a Long Hunt?”
“It’s a hunt over the mountains,” Jonen explained. “There are no clans there, so the pelts and meat are worth a lot. We call it the Long Hunt because it takes nearly half a year just to get there.”
Neir nodded. “She wanted to get enough to start our lives off right. Have enough for a family.” She touched her pup’s nose with a soft finger. “I just decided to start sooner than she thought.”
Brune didn’t know Kyu, but he thought she was probably a good alpha. Anyone who had the fortitude to leave their new mate for so long to secure their future was strong. Still, she would probably be distraught to find she’d missed so much.
He hated to keep comparing the life of the Clansmen with his in Kaledonea, but it was difficult not to.
Back in the city, an alpha’s worth was based on how they presented themselves.
How far down they could look on another.
But here, it was nearly impossible to guess someone’s second gender without getting close enough to smell them.
There were alphas who stayed home and tended to the hearth while omegas went hunting, and betas who took on leadership and protection roles.
It might be dizzying if it didn’t make so much sense.
In the Stone Blade, the right person did the job, regardless of gender.
From what he gathered, Neir herself was a fierce warrior who often protected the borders.
She’d been blooded countless times in skirmishes, and were she not pregnant at the time, she would have been fighting against him in the last battle.
It was hard to believe when he looked at her now, dressed in loose soft clothing, staring down at her pup with love in her eyes. But he was sure he would see for himself the moment Neir regained her strength.
Brune lifted his head when he caught a scent on the slight breeze. Goosebumps erupted down his skin as he turned, locking eyes with Ridan as he walked up to them. It was as if he could sense Brune’s thoughts on fierce omegas and appeared.
He looked tired. With sagging shoulders, he took a seat beside Corric, giving the pup a once over before taking a long drink of the proffered water skin.
“Long day?” Corric asked as he watched Ridan chug the water.
Ridan grunted. “Festival dealings. Which crops to bring, horses to sell, and who should stay behind. It’s never ending. I’m beginning to believe my mother got injured in a bid for rest.”
Neir took her pup back, nuzzling into her soft crown. “How is Chief Restrina doing?”
Whatever mirth Ridan managed to dredge up slipped from his face. He swallowed, fiddling with the strap on the skin. “She wishes she could welcome your pup to the clan personally.”
Despite still being chief, Restrina had been sequestered away.
Corric told Brune in the clans, the sick or injured—those closer to death—do not interact with the young.
There is fear that their valor, stronger with time, may accidentally overshadow that of the babes.
Confusing the spirits who serve Artrax so that they might bestow the child’s life upon the stronger warrior.
With so many young in the clan, it was no surprise Restrina chose to remain solitary. She would never risk harming any of the pups in the clan.
“She need not worry. My pup will happily receive her blessing when she is stronger,” Neir said confidently, her attention on Ridan. He seemed to flinch under her assertions, looking away.
Slipping the hammer into his belt, Brune stepped off the ladder to stand beside Jonen. “What’s the festival?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
Ridan looked up at him from under pale lashes. He looked at him like he always did—with a mixture of emotion, Brune felt like he was just on the precipice of beginning to understand. A hesitation, but a desire. As if Ridan knew what he wanted to say, but wasn’t quite sure how or why.
“The Shortening of Days festival. It happens every year, on neutral ground. The clans gather to celebrate the end of longer days and prepare for winter.” He answered after a moment, voice hoarse.
“It’s more than that,” Jonen cuts in excitedly. “There are games, tests of skill, courting, and trade. The clans bring their best to trade and sell.”
Neir nods. “They are enjoyable.”
“You won stone arrowheads last year, didn’t you?” Corric asked.