Chapter 15 #2
Chest pounding filled the chamber once again, and a pleasant tingle raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Pride for my trainer—my friend—swelled in me. I smiled and joined in.
Commander Ace walked Beast to the center of the room. “Remove your shirt and get on your knees, Beast.”
Beast glanced at me then pulled his black assassin top over his head and went to his knees before her.
The pounding stopped. It seemed everyone collectively held their breath, including me.
As much as I hated Beast, watching anyone subjected to this treatment was harsh. At home thieves were whipped in the town square. It didn’t happen often, but the snap of a whip hitting flesh was burned into my memory.
Commander Ace removed a short, black leather whip from her belt and held it to Vander. The first strike across Beast’s back echoed in the dome above. I winced as it cracked again and again.
I felt no remorse for him after what he’d done to me, and how he had treated my friend, but it was still hard to watch. Beast kept a straight face, staring at the planks in front of him.
For Vander, I could see this wasn’t vengeance, he didn’t do it in anger but as a task that needed to be done. Each lash struck harder and more intense, until Beast finally fell onto his hands, panting. Twenty lashes left his back bloody and welted.
Commander Ace replaced the whip on her belt. “On your feet, apprentice. This rivalry between the four of you ends here and now. Assassins protect their own.”
Beast slowly rose up, and those dead eyes met mine. Hatred burned into me. I could choke on it. Despite the Commander’s words, this made him loathe me all the more. He would blame me for this shame and embarrassment.
Vander pulled off his top and mopped his sweaty, bloody face with it. He didn’t see the way Beast scowled at me.
Commander Ace waved me over. “Shake hands.”
I nodded, and when our hands clasped, he crushed my fingers in his grip, then pulled me into a rough hug and whispered in my ear, “You won’t always have Viper around to protect you.” Then he said loudly, “Truce, Bonecarver?”
I swallowed hard. “Truce, Beast.”
Not many words were exchanged between Vander and me on our walk back to our room.
I thanked him, but it didn’t feel like enough.
He assured me it was what any good trainer would have done, but that wasn’t true.
The only reason Dred fought for Beast was because of his own pride.
If he’d turned down Vander’s challenge, it would have made him appear weak and shameful.
It took us a good twenty minutes to walk across the grounds with assassins stopping Vander to congratulate him.
More than a few invited him to go out and celebrate, but he turned them down with a simple, “Not tonight.” I wondered if he was hurting more than he let on.
He walked as tall and strong as ever. The gash over his eye was the only real battle wound, and he had his hood up to cover it anyway, but he was on edge.
His movements were jerky and quick, his jaw muscles clenched and flickered every time another person stopped us to talk. Anxiety and agitation rolled off him.
We were almost to the entrance to our tower building when a group of three waved us down.
“Viper, that was an epic fight,” said the man with a wide smile and freckles.
“We always knew you were dangerous, but that was something else. Come out, let us buy you a drink. You can even bring the pup.” He winked at me.
“Pup? I thought you might have learned not to disrespect me after this morning’s events,” I teased.
The assassin let out a hearty laugh, and the other two, a man and woman joined in. “You’re funny. Bonecarver, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Great name. You’re lucky to have him as your trainer. He’s the best. It doesn’t matter what some say. Things happen in our world, eh?” He bumped his shoulder into mine.
He was talking about Vander’s other apprentices like I knew the stories. I should know them, but part of me didn’t want to. They might make me see him differently.
“So what do you say, Viper? Goldman’s Rum and Drums?”
He looked away, his jaw muscles tightening. The silence became uncomfortable.
I finally cleared my throat. “He’s not up for it.
” Vander simply nodded in agreement. His steely blues begged for escape.
He reminded me of a wild animal caught in a trap.
I couldn’t figure out why either. He’d just won the fight.
I thought he’d be celebratory and excited. His behavior put me on edge.
“I guess your trainer isn’t the only protective one.” The man laughed again. “Some other time then.”
The three of them wandered off, and Viper hurried for our tower before anyone else could bombard him. He moved swiftly up the stairs and straight into the bathing chambers.
Something was wrong. I paced. What if he was hiding how badly he was hurt? Was he in there right now, suffering on the floor or trying to hold in the pain? I knocked softly on the door. I was the reason he’d fought and got injured in the first place.
“Viper, are you hurt? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’m fine.” His voice was rough and strained.
“I let you help me even though I didn’t want the help.”
“That’s because you needed it, I don’t.”
“So you’re going to stitch that cut above your eyebrow all on your own?” I folded my arms and pressed my forehead into the door. “I know how. I’ve stitched plenty in my life.”
“I’ll do it myself.”
I glared at where I imagined he stood on the other side of the door. Stubborn. “It’s fine to accept help once in a while. Even from your apprentice. Do you want clean clothes at least? I can get—”
“No. Just leave me alone.”
My heart slowly sank. I heard the bathwater running and paced on my side of the room. My boots slowly tap, tap, tapping. Some people, men especially, hated accepting help, but this felt different. I knew he wasn’t angry with me, even if he sounded like it.
When he finally emerged from the bathing chambers, his hair combed back, still wet, and in only a pair of black pants, I stopped.
He paused inside the doorway then cut to his side of the room.
My boots hit hard with each step as I rounded the curtain and stood at the end of his bed.
The yellowing bruise on his cheekbone appeared to be almost healed.
A bandage covered the cut above his brow.
There was some very minor bruising on his ribs but that was yellow as if it was days old.
“Viper, I—” He turned his head. “I wanted to say thank you again. You not only saved me from being lashed but you stopped Beast from slicing me up, and challenging Dred was more than I would have asked for. I hope someday I can repay you for all that you do for me.” I smiled, hoping to get one in return. “The training alone is worth so much.”
“Well, you never wanted to be here, and it’s my duty.” He tore his gaze away and hurried by me to his wardrobe. He rifled through his things with agitated movements and finally slid on a clean assassin top.
I swallowed hard. Duty. That’s all I was to him, and I had to remember that. Although I had expected a warmer response.
Next, he slipped on his boots and pulled up his hood.
“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did. I know I shouldn’t have hit Beast with that glass. But I couldn’t stand to see him bully Taewyn any longer.”
“You did good, Bonecarver.” His voice was clipped, like assuring me annoyed him, and he moved to the main door. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
I took a step toward him, pulse thrumming. “Where are you going?”
“I—uh—I need to meet Commander Locke. He wanted to see me after the fight.” He threw open the door. “No one will bother you.”
I didn’t worry about anyone bothering me, not after Vander beat Dred and whipped Beast. But my intuition told me he was lying. Sure, Commander Locke was his uncle and would want to see him, but this was about more than the fight.
“Viper.”
He paused in the threshold.
“Will you please talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong. I know you said we’re not friends, but that was... before. I consider you my friend. You can talk to me.”
The door slammed. I jumped as the walls rattled.
Tears burned my eyes. What had happened between the fight and now?
I didn’t understand. Did he realize he’d have to keep standing up for me, and didn’t want to?
Maybe he would ask, no, demand, that Commander Locke put me with someone else.
Unless he was hurt more than he would say and needed the Commander’s help.