Chapter 12
GOSSIP
The feeling of life constantly beating the shit out of me makes me want to soak in a hot bath, but I stand in the throne room, pondering the direction of my life.
Then realization slams into me. Julius walked out before Odessa.
He’s probably already down at the training ground.
Which means I’m late. I sprint to my room to change out of my skirt and into my training pants, barely pausing a moment to throw my hair up before I race out of the Great Hall, across the terrace, and down to the training ground.
I find Julius leaning against the archway, arms crossed. Shit.
“Well, well, late on our second day already?” His words are laced with venom.
“I apologize. It won’t happen again.” I try my best to keep my voice as steady as possible, but being down here alone with him is already making me queasy.
Julius pushes off the archway and takes a step onto the training grounds. “Let’s see how knowledgeable you are with weapons today. I’m still trying to get a baseline for your skill level.”
“Well, I can save you some time there. I’ve never used anything but a child’s sword and bow,” I say, hoping my honesty will win me some points with him. But I should’ve known better.
A cruel smile is his only response. We walk across the training ground and into the long timber building.
The sloping roof nearly touches the ground on either side, and strange carvings line the door frame.
My swallow is audible, fear pulsing in my veins as we cross the threshold; no one would be able to hear me from inside the building.
Hanging on the wall beside us are rows of shields, some plain metal, others intricately detailed.
The rest of the walls are lined with rows upon rows of weapons: swords, axes, pikes, bows, maces, and clubs.
A long, narrow table running the length of the room is covered in piles of armor, gloves, sparring pads, and silver helmets.
Alone in this building full of weapons is not a place I feel comfortable being with him.
He rips a sword and shield off the wall before thrusting them at me. “Hold these.”
The metal of the sword gleams in the light.
Its blade is sharp, but the hilt is cracked wood, worn and abused, and held together with leather wrappings.
The shield is smaller than the others and crudely made.
The metal is scarred with several large dents, but it’s sturdy enough to do the trick and light enough not to weigh me down.
Julius grabs himself a beautiful sword, the hilt glinting with a ruby the size of a chicken egg, and the shield he grabs is painted with a golden serpent in a striking position.
A bit ostentatious for a weapons lesson, but whatever.
He marches out the door, and I have to raise my knee quickly to keep it from slamming shut in my face before following behind him.
Gods, he’s insufferable.
He leaves me in the sun on the east side of the grounds with a gruff, “Stay here.”
Julius marches to the tree with Odin’s ax buried in it. For a second, I think he’s going to try to pull it from the tree, but he merely slaps the hilt again before stalking back towards me.
“This is how you hold a sword.” He shows me his grip for a split second before expertly spinning the hilt over the top of his hand and back into his palm. “And this is how you hold a shield,” he adds.
His voice is soaked in sarcasm while he hoists his shield up and down.
I reposition my sword in my hand, spinning it smoothly like he did without dropping it. His surprise mirrors my own and strokes my ego, giving me the confidence to hoist my shield up and down sarcastically. “Got it.”
Years of my father’s instructions flood my mind, and I pick through the memories, looking for the instructions on fighting a much larger opponent.
Julius’ face grows eerily calm as he mutters quietly, “Now block.”
He swings his sword abruptly down at me.
My panic is fleeting as self-preservation and muscle memory take over, and I surge my shield arm into position just before his sword can cleave through my skull.
The reverberation of his sword against my shield rattles my whole body. My teeth clack together loudly.
Son of a bitch.
I barely have time to adjust, my arms vibrating still as he swings his shield at my exposed chest. Twirling away at the last possible second, he misses my chest with his shield, but his booted foot lands squarely between my shoulder blades and has me flying face-first to the ground.
The impact knocks the wind out of my lungs, and I lie there gasping for air.
The pain sears down my spine, and I briefly wonder if you can break your wings before they even grow.
Julius squats in front of me, the pain and lack of air keeping me sprawled on the ground.
“I see why your parents didn’t raise you here. You’re too weak.” He steps over me and kicks my sword out of my hand. “Get up,” he barks.
Get up, get up. My mind screams at me, but my body doesn’t want to listen.
Slowly, I manage to pull myself up to find him sneering at me. When I reach for the sword, he kicks it farther away and swings at me again.
I thrust my shield into place to block his blow.
Did he really attempt to attack me without a weapon?
My vision tinges red, and I use my shield again, but this time as a weapon, and I swing at him with it. The action catches him off guard, and he takes a step back, giving me time to dive for my sword.
The weapon is now firmly in my grasp, and I smile.
But that was a mistake.
“Do you think you actually did something with that little maneuver?”
The words are sharp, meant to cut me.
He races at me, and I barely dodge his attack.
I can’t seem to take on any position but a defensive one, and I’m constantly several seconds too late.
With my left arm outstretched with my shield to block his latest blow, my right arm sags to the ground with the weight of the sword I’m not accustomed to yet, which leaves my midsection vulnerable to an attack.
Julius begins raining blows across my ribs with his knee. The air is ripped from my lungs, and I sag to the ground, my sword and blade forgotten on the dirt beside me as I keel over.
He squats down beside me and murmurs, “You’re pathetic and weak. You don’t stand a chance here.”
I can’t even tilt my head to the side and meet his eyes. His words hurt more deeply than the hits he landed. He rises and walks across the training ground to the weapons building, ending our training session. That was short and not sweet.
I roll over onto my back, the searing, burning pain lashing down my spine from the movement.
Get up.
But I can’t, I lay there for a very long time.
The sun is sinking below the trees when I finally pull myself up off the ground. Julius is long gone. But his words spin around my head, ripping up every decent thought in its path.
My anger bubbles over until one thing becomes very clear: I am staying.
I’m never going to be ok with allowing someone as vile as him to rule over these people. If he does this to me, who threatens his newfound power trip, I can’t imagine what he’d be like decades into his reign.
Once I get enough power to stabilize Idirhalla, there’s nothing to stop me from traveling back and forth freely as they once did. I could visit Gran or even bring her back with me. I wonder if I could convince Lachlan about the existence of this place?
We might be able to have a future here.
But I will not be forced out by someone like Julius.
At the very least, I should stay for my parents.
This was my mother’s home, and she would not agree with me turning my back on these people if I could save them.
I still don’t know her reasons for leaving, but I know my mom, and I trust her.
She would have never left them if she knew this was going to happen.
A low whistle sounds from the archway, and my muscles ache as I flinch.
“I was worried I’d have to call the Captain and tell him you died tragically on my watch,” Evander says with a smile, approaching me before it immediately drops. My tear-streaked face causes him to freeze. “Lena, are you ok?” Worry creases his brow.
“Honestly,” I breathe, trying to gather myself. “No, not at all.” My lip quivers as my voice cracks.
“Are you injured?” he asks, scanning my body for injuries.
Evander’s kindness lifts some of the burden off my chest.
“I’m fine, just a little worse for wear. Julius was not very mentor-like today.” My shoulders rise and fall as I sigh.
“Why don’t you train with me, Mathilda, and Tane?”
“I don’t know when I would even have the time for that or when you guys would have the time.” I don’t want to intrude on their busy schedules, but it would be nice to learn something. The words “learn our ways” to stabilize the realm whiz through my mind.
“For you, we would make time. No one else, more than me, would love to see you knock Julius on his ass. Let me talk to them tonight, and I’m sure there is a time each day one of us could help you out.” He nods as if he’s already working it all out in his head.
“If you think it’ll help, I’ll try.”
Hope begins surging through me, battling back the discomfort of having to ask for help. There are people here willing to help me, kind people, who seem to always look to do the right thing. This is a place worth sticking around for, a place worth saving.
“Oh, it definitely will. Trust me, I’ve been there.” Emotion shines in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
Evander looks up at the sky before settling his attention back on me.
“I wasn’t always the man you see before you.
I was born here to two warriors from very different times and cultures.
It wasn’t a love match, but a coupling born from fleeting desire.
” He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “Needless to say, my childhood wasn’t a happy one, and I never quite felt like I belonged anywhere. ”
My eyes burn from the story he’s struggling to tell and the image of a small child with bright copper hair suffering from the loneliness that I’m very familiar with.
“As peaceful as this place seems now, it wasn’t always, and there was a lot of bullying towards kids who didn’t have friends.
I was one of those kids. But when I was growing up, the royal guards were a brotherhood.
A place where people of all cultures and periods could be chosen.
I wanted that more than anything and started training as fiercely as I could, but it wasn’t enough.
Until Mathilda and Mina took me under their wings—pun intended—when they saw me struggling through the selection process five years in a row.
They helped me achieve my dreams. They took a nobody kid off the streets and built me up into the person I am today. ”
Pride and gratitude surge across his face when he speaks of his friends, who were there for him. His story strikes a chord within me. His friendship with them reminds me a great deal of mine with Lachlan.
I grin at him. “Into the great person you are today.”
Evander’s eyes flash to mine, gratitude shining warmly in the hazel pools as he smiles broadly at me. He bumps his shoulder against mine as we walk back to the Great Hall. “You’re going out with us tonight, right?”
“Yeah, Mathilda invited me. I hope that’s ok?” My eyes are on the winding path in front of us so that I don’t miss a step. My body is sore and sluggish from lying on the ground most of the day.
“Of course it is! We’ll have a good time.” He smiles.
The setting sun, brandishing the sky a deep burnt red, mimics the strands of his hair.
Silence settles between us, and I have the urge to fill it.
“I thought you were the captain of the guard?”
Evander’s eyes stay on the path. “What made you think that?”
My brow furrows. “You said you didn’t want to have to call the captain if I was dead back there, and I thought that you were the captain because I’ve only ever seen you with Odessa, and you were our guard for the parade,” I say slowly, thinking it through as I speak.
Evander chuckles. “I see why you would think that. I was just the replacement while the actual captain was away. It’s not my usual position.” His shoulders slump marginally, and I get the feeling he wants that role.
I bump my shoulder against his. “I think you would make a great captain.”
Evander’s smile is as bright as the setting sun.