Chapter 12 The Festival
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE FESTIVAL
Under the pall of Chief Restrina’s death, life continued. The Festival of Shortening Days was approaching and the entire clan was abuzz about it. Warriors were sharpening their blades, merchants were stocking wares, and everyone was collecting things to trade.
Brune wasn’t immune to the excitement. He could feel his heart beating harder at the thought of meeting more Clansmen. Standing among them as a Stone Blade. For the first time in his life, Brune felt pride. In his people and in himself.
He’d grown since he first came—stronger in arm, yes, but also in heart.
No longer was he a mere soldier, stumbling around at the behest of something he didn’t understand or care for.
No, now he wielded the Maladon’s Aegis. He wore sturdy boots.
His skin was scarred from the teeth of a formidable beast.
He had found a home.
And he loved it, even if it occasionally tried to kill him.
“Move your feet,” Osmond shouted as he circled him, one of his blades skimming across his shield. “Know when to plant your feet and know when to move.”
His arm shook with the effort of keeping the shield aloft. Even after training every day, it was still heavy. Niklas had taken to helping him ice his arm at the end of each day only so he could do it again.
Out of his peripheral he saw Osmond line up his blow. At the last moment, he stepped into it, slamming the shield into his hand hard enough to send the blade spinning off into the sand. While Osmond stumbled, he charged forward again, smashing the shield into his face.
Stunned, the alpha fell into the dirt, his second blade dropping with him. Brune lowered his shield with a grin. Finally! He had never been able to disarm Osmond before. The man was too fast.
His smile dropped when he saw the blood and tears pouring down Osmond’s face. With a gasp, Brune dropped next to him. “Oh shit! Are you ok?”
“Henroen was right,” Osmond slurred, spitting blood with every word. “You have a hell of an arm on you.” He grinned, showing off red stained teeth.
“Is it broken?”
Osmond shrugged, poking at the bridge of his nose. “Could be.”
“Let me take you to Iylah,” Brune offered, setting his shield aside to grab Osmond. The blonde knocked his hands away.
“Later. Actually…I wanted to talk to you.” Osmond looked over his shoulder at the other end of the practice field.
Niklas was kneeling next to Tia, helping her hold a small bow.
The girl had wanted to learn how to shoot and refused to take no for an answer.
While other kids her age were perfecting the sling, she would only pick up archery.
Whether it was the stubborn set of her jaw or the soft eyes, Niklas agreed to teach her.
Brune took a seat beside Osmond in the sand, shading his eyes with a hand. The midday sun was bright, burning the skin of their bare shoulders.
“To me?” Brune asked curiously.
“Yes, I—” Osmond stopped, seeming unsure of what he wanted to say. It was an odd look for the alpha. Resting his elbows on his knees, Osmond dropped his head. “I wanted to-I wanted to ask you to be a witness.”
“A witness? To what?”
Osmond exhaled shakily. “I want to ask Niklas for the right to court him.”
Of all the things Osmond could have said, that was the last Brune expected. Sure, he knew they were close, but he never thought shy Niklas would ever be romantically involved with someone. Which, in hindsight, is foolish. Niklas was a great man. Strong and righteous.
Looking back, he could scarcely recall a recent time when Niklas wasn’t with Osmond. They stuck together to hunt, to eat, to do anything, really. Osmond had even started joining them at Henroen’s hearth rather than Gustall’s.
“Wow,” Brune finally said, still a little stunned. “I never expected this.”
That made Osmond lift his head. “Do you think…should I—”
“No, no,” Brune reassured him, shaking his head so hard some hair fell into his eyes. It was getting longer. “It’s not you. I’m just surprised, is all.”
And truly, Brune was happy for Niklas. Osmond was a good man, a good alpha. He had good standing in the clan and fought well.
“But I thought publicly asking to court was for omegas?”
Osmond shrugged. “It started out that way. Now it doesn’t matter.” He looked back over his shoulder at Niklas. “But that’s part of my problem.”
It took Brune a moment to understand. “Ah, the public part.”
Nodding, Osmond tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I want to do it right, honorably. Give Niklas every chance to be honest with me. I was going to ask him at the festival but—”
“He would hate that.”
“Right,” Osmond sighed. “And I could wait until after, but the thought of him going to the festival unattached has my alpha unsettled.” He dabbed at his nose with the back of his hand, wincing slightly.
“I thought if I had you and Henroen present, as two alphas he trusts, he wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable but still feel as if he could say no. ”
It made sense. Osmond had a much higher standing in the clan than Niklas did. If he were a less kind man, he could use his position to influence Niklas. But with Brune and Henroen present, he could say no and face no repercussions. It was a good idea.
But Brune wasn’t sure it was enough.
Niklas had been his friend since his first day in the army. He helped him through training, kept him from getting into fights, sat with him during his ruts, and held his confidence. He deserved to be happy.
“Do you love him?”
If the question surprised Osmond, he didn’t show it. He just smiled, the dried blood on his face cracking under the force of his happiness. His citrus scent thickened, making Brune’s eyes water.
“My parents died just after I presented. As a lone, unmated alpha with no pack, I was suddenly responsible for little Tia. I had no idea what I was doing. Even though we had only been with the Stone Blade for a season, Gustall stepped in. He and his mate offered to take in Tia, to care for her at their hearth, while I lived with the unmated alphas.” His lips twisted as he recalled the memory.
“It was the right decision—Gustall and his mate are good people. They cared for us like we were family, but I always felt guilty. Like I’d betrayed her. ”
Brune understood. Alphas were supposed to protect and provide. By giving Tia to another family to care for, his alpha would feel like he was failing.
“So, when I thought about taking a mate, I knew they would have to be special. Someone who would be willing to accept Tia, to love her like I do.”
And Niklas did. He and Tia bonded quickly. She was often spotted with one hand in Osmond’s and the other in Niklas’s, talking their ears off as they took her out to hunt small fish in the stream or to practice tracking and hunting.
With a start, Brune realized the courting was merely a formality.
“I think I knew the first moment I saw him. Even in the dark, when he wouldn’t meet my gaze, I knew he was special. That he was pack.” He blushed a little. “Um, to answer your question, yes. I love him.”
Pushing himself to his feet, Brune dusted the sand off his pants before extending a hand to Osmond. “I would be honored to be a witness.”
Ridan found himself, once again, on the outskirts of camp. He was standing underneath a sky so clear he could count the stars. Not that his attention was directed upward. Tonight, he was looking at something far closer to home.
Osmond had been nervous when he asked Ridan’s permission to court.
At first, Ridan had been surprised. Of all the alphas, he never suspected Osmond to shy away from tradition.
But when Osmond explained, he was happy to offer his approval.
Niklas would be a fool to say no, and Osmond seemed very taken with the beta.
Of all his new duties, he found this to be the least arduous.
Not that he would ever admit it.
Which is perhaps why he was hiding behind a box of supplies ready to be carted to the festival.
This was his first courting as chief, and by Artrax’s teeth, he would see it through.
No one knew he was here, of course. That would defeat the purpose.
So he was hiding like a child avoiding a scolding.
After his childhood, he’d grown quite good at it.
Osmond was standing in his finest leathers with a cloak of fur so red, it could only have come from the Long Hunt he took several years back.
His hair was combed, pulled back neatly into a little ponytail, and his boots were shined.
The man looked nervous, big hands clenching and unclenching as he waited beside a smoldering fire.
Close enough to hear, but not to take part, Henroen and Brune stood similarly. They were also wearing their finest. They’d even risked the cold springs to take a bath, hair dripping down their back where they’d hastily dried it.
Hidden, Ridan took a moment to look his fill.
Brune looked good in his new Snap Jaw leathers.
Impossibly, he looked taller. Standing beside Henroen would make anyone look small, but Brune looked nearly his equal.
His biceps bulged around a shirt that was clearly too small for the new muscles, back straight under the weight of his shield.
Even the ridiculous smithy hammer on his belt looked right on him.
His blue eyes were bright with anticipation. A different kind of light than they were that night.
I swear the strength of my arm, the beating of my heart, and the shield on my back to you, Ridan Oldsun.
Those words had been on his mind since Brune spoke them. They were overwhelming. Like a task that has grown so large you don’t know where to begin, and thinking of it makes your heart quicken and head pound. Ridan didn’t know what to make of them.
On the surface, it was a heartfelt loyalty pledge. He’d heard hundreds of them. But it wasn’t the words, it was the man who said them.