Claiming Their Village Bride

by Abby Aaron

  Tyler spoke up as the others tried to process the information. “Relieve her of her sword in what manner?”

  “Your triad will have to determine as such,” she explained with a wide smile. “It won’t be easy. The challenge will take place today, but the timing will remain a mystery. Until then, you may discuss the challenge among yourselves and make plans. When my youngest, Finnigan, takes up his horn, simply follow the sound. It will lead you to Jemina and your first challenge. May the Creator inspire you well.”

  8

  Jemina’s Challenge

  “You are meant to move counterclockwise for this portion of the ceremony,” Aras instructed Loinbard when the younger man began moving into the leader’s path. Correcting his direction was an easy fix.

  Glancing toward Anders, he pointed out another flaw they needed to correct. “We agreed you could keep the part of your pledge invoking the name of Finn rather than Konrad, but don’t forget to recite the rest of the oath using the same words my brother and I do, or it will not have the full hypnotic effect.”

  “Is it so important for our chant to be in unison? After cycles of practicing with my first triad, it is hard to switch to something new.” Anders kept moving and the three men worked on measuring their footwork as the circle they covered slowly closed inward.

  Aras used his raised hand to help them keep count of the moves they made left before switching to the right. “You have made remarkable progress in the short time we have begun practicing together. Do not lose hope. It is true Jemina is not a city bride we need to lull into cooperation before staking our claim. Yet, if she is indeed planning to challenge her suitors to disarm her in battle, it is best to keep her calm and a bit off balanced when we disarm her. One mistake, and she might accidentally harm herself with the weapon.”

  Loinbard found himself starting to feel the natural rhythm of the ritual dance they followed. The chant was easy for him to master since he had heard other fledglings labor to memorize the words. “Hurt herself?” he said when they broke for a brief rest. “Have you forgotten what her father said? She is a skilled warrior, or do you disbelieve him?”

  Accepting a cup of water from Anders, Aras pointed to a clear patch of grass where they could recline. “We will survive any nicks or bruises she manages to inflict. Our little gem is too honorable to wound anyone not posing an imminent threat to her or someone she loves.” Downing the contents of his cup, he leaned back and observed the clouds gently move across the morning sky. “Skilled at battle or not, she is as untamed as the mist above. She needs a firm, guiding wind to help chart her courses, protecting her from raining down her fury until the time is right.”

  “You asked earlier about my thoughts on scolding a wife,” Anders studied the clouds as well. “Were she our wife, and if she truly means to face off with three triads of trained warriors to prove her worth, I would upend her the moment I managed to remove the sword from her hand. Hendrix and Johan have no integrity. If they thought it would improve their position, they would inflict a great deal of harm to her before her fathers or anyone else could intervene.”

  “As leader of our group, I claim first right to administer such a correction. You may take over the task after I have reddened her ass,” Aras concluded. Noon was quickly approaching and he got to his feet. “You may cover the tops of her thighs if you choose.”

  “And what am I to do?” Loinbard demanded, pushing his brother hard as they walked to their positions before practicing their courtship dance once again. He had been trying to trip his sibling, but didn’t even manage to earn a flinch.

  “We will leave the lecturing to you,” Anders chuckled. “Do either of you believe we have a chance of winning this challenge using this plan? Your fellow Konrads are off practicing their disarming skills. Sage has managed to make Tyler and Riley drop their sword several times.” He jerked his head toward where the men in question stood.

  “Sage drew blood each time he wedged his weapon at his opponents’ hand. If Jem’s fathers do not take exception to him injuring their daughter, I certainly will.” Aras’ face was dark. He had been trained to protect his fellow Konrads, but the thought of anyone harming the woman he loved enraged him. Abruptly stopping, he found himself colliding with his blood brother. Loinbard shoved him back for the insult, this time managing to send him falling on his ass. Loved? Aras was dazed a moment. Was it possible? He, a man who swore never to give his heart to someone who would die and leave him alone, in love?

  Anders offered him a hand as Aras moved to gain his feet. “Are you ill?” the Finn warrior asked. The blaring of Finnegan’s horn saved Aras from answering. Snatching up their belongings, they followed the sound toward the first challenge.

  The manner in which the competing triads studied the training fields surprised Jemina at first. Realization slowly dawned. Villages must have unique set ups for their training fields and family units. Her eyes looked up at the nine men on the top level. The layout of the drilling ground had been designed to mimic the family unit structures of Urijah. The ground level was widest. In homes, this is the area the family warriors protected. The section was marked off in thirds, marking the area each person in the triad was responsible for keeping secure.

  If breached, attackers would have access to the next level below the ground. Here less skilled members of a family unit were stationed, their sole goal to stop any outsiders from reaching the lowest, third level, where sucklings and wives were found.

  No floor and secret door hid one level from the next on the training field. Part of the learning process involved each member of a fighting team to witness the destruction caused by his failure to protect those below.

  Teams of fledglings were clustered together by leaders and formed strong bonds, learning to honestly assess each member’s strengths and voting each person’s placement on the levels according to this knowledge. A skilled student on the top section had to watch and explain to his trainers the ramifications of allowing an enemy past their section, narrating each mock murder and advancement of challenging groups.

  Jemina, herself, heard echoes from past training sessions that still haunted her cycles later. For a moment, she was a child of seventeen again. It was her first time serving on the top level. She had worked hard to make her way up from the bottom, taking pride when her training partners deemed her worthy to cover ground level. But the pressure was unyielding there, something she had never considered. Every slight miscalculation she made had far reaching ramifications for others. No one was really hurt in these trials, but the certainty of what reality could bring due to failure was gut wrenching.

  “How many members of your ‘family unit’ died in this fight, fledgling?” A harsh trainer yelled beside her, rain pouring down from the sky, masking the tears falling from her eyes as she watched those below her level. “Twelve, sir.”

  He spouted off a memorized lecture every fledgling had to suffer through. She had heard him give it to others, but never taken it to heart before. “Do you see the small child lying in that muddy puddle on the bottom floor? He could be your son, the baby your wife, er, the baby you just blessed your family unit with. His fate is bleak if your performance today is any indication of how you would handle a threat on his life. Do you feel you are ready to leave these training fields and act as a warrior for the Village of Urijah?”

  “No sir. I ask permission to go down a level at the next trial.” Pride had not made her blind. “I still have much to learn as a fledgling, sir.”

  Other trials had followed, her performance improving exponentially She had made her way back to the ground level again, and officially graduated a month before being labeled of age and ready to marry. Jemina had been determined not to marry until she was secure in the knowledge she could protect those who depended on her. But that first experience on the top level still haunted her.

  “Papa Ellias, make her explain the challenge so I can stop blowing this blasted horn. I am all out of air.” Finnegan’s complaint brou
ght her back to the present. Eyes focused on her opponents again, she blocked out all but the task at hand.

  “The first challenge is easy enough to understand. On my word, the event will commence. To win, your triad has to be the first to remove my sword from my hand.”

  “Is each triad meant to take turns approaching you?” Anders sought clarification. He looked displeased with the entire task. While she still considered him, Aras and Loinbard her true mates and was sure the Creator would ensure they won her hand, she felt the triad needed to gain some respect for her. This was one sure way to make it happen.

  “You may sit and await the other triads’ attempts, if you choose, sir, but I will impose no limits on who advances toward me. May the Creator be on your side. Begin.” She lifted her weapon in a mock salute and lifted her chin as if daring anyone to approach.

  The Konrad triad and Aras’ group took time to consider how to proceed. The warriors from Finn, namely Hendrix and Johan, wasted no time. Ignoring Crosby, they leapt down the middle level before separating. They meant to strike at her from opposite ends, advancing on her so she did not have time to plan her reaction.

  Jemina spotted Aras’ look of alarm from the top level. He ordered her to watch her back, but she did not even acknowledge the command. She remained frozen in her spot, like an owl blinded by a torch carried along a dark night. Hendrix’s smile was insulting as he moved closer and closer, his eyes locked on her sword. He stopped only an arm’s length away and waited as his brother crept up on her from behind. “I cannot wait until I have you in my bed, innocent Jemina. You have no idea of the wicked pleasures you will learn to bestow on me.”

  Johan snuck closer, his fist reaching out to yank the sword from her hand. A bellow of outrage filled the area as she twisted at the last moment, moving her weapon up and across, slashing a thin line across the man’s bronzed forearm. Her attention was back on Hendrix before either man could process her attack.

  “In my village, husbands are charged with bestowing pleasures on their wife. We might not be suited, sir. There is still time to remove yourself from the competition.” Jemina lunged toward him without warning, marking his mocking face with a cut across the right cheek.

  For several moments, she moved in ways neither man could predict, slicing shallow nicks over their forearms, necks and hands. They had left their weapons on the top level, arrogant enough to assume they would not need them to challenge a mere woman. Now enraged, they turned to climb back up and retrieve them.

  Jemina feared she might have to do serious damage if they decided to return armed to fight. She watched them circle the top-level, looking for where they left their swords. Loinbard, who had the most engaging smile, pointed toward an observation deck where her parents were watching. Someone had tossed the Finn swords to her fathers, and they were now out of reach.

  Hendrix, red with frustration, started to charge toward his weapon, Johan at his heels. Only after the two men were well off the grass covering the first level of the training field did Jemina call out a warning. “Did I forget to mention the part about any man leaving the area being disqualified? How unfortunate. Better luck with the next task, men of Finn.”

  The Konrad triad decided to try their luck. Tyler and Riley were tasked with occupying Aras, Loinbard and Anders on the top level while Sage moved lower to try his hand at disarming Jemina. He had his sword, but was using great care not to wield it in a manner that might bring harm to her. She found the consideration endearing and sincerely regretted the nasty cut she inflicted on his weapon hand. She used the tip of her sword to guide the Konrad weapon out of reach. She did not wish to hurt him, but if he kept swinging the blade in her direction, she would have no choice.

  “You might want to see our healer, Dalia for some healing herbs to make sure that cut doesn’t get infected.”

  Crosby was lingering by the edge of the top level, looking confused by the events unfolding. Jemina heard Johan demand the attractive warrior go after her sword. She really wished Crosby would not listen. Using her blade on him would be like attacking a clueless child. Sage was wrapping his bleeding wrist and climbing up the levels when Crosby moved down.

  He wore white, Jemina grimaced. What warrior came to battle in white? Instead of covering his shirt with blood, she flicked the tip of her sword left and right, slashing rips across the material. It was hard not to be proud of herself. Not a hint of blood marred the shirt. Crosby did not realize how lucky he had been and complained as he left the area.

  Tyler and Riley cautiously approached, leaving their weapons behind. “I don’t suppose you would hand over your weapon willingly?” Riley asked with a boyish smile.

  “Would you?” She grinned, slightly nicking both men’s skin as they tried to sneak close enough to yank the weapon away. Not willing to risk harming the village bride they sought to claim, Jemina watched the Konrad warriors collect their things and leave the field.

  Only Aras, Loinbard and Anders remained on the training field with her now. If she were smart, her mother had told her before they came to the field, she would toss the sword at this triad’s feet and be joyful they were ahead in the competition. Jemina knew she was smart, but was not above allowing her stubborn pride to muddle her thoughts. She wanted to prove herself to these men before they laid claim to her. Respect should be established before mating, to her way of thinking.

  The three men slowly moved about the top level, positioning themselves an equal distance apart, and she felt disappointment. Instead of giving her praise for defeating their challengers, these men were obviously going to try and outwit her, too. So much for gaining their respect. She lifted her sword and prepared for battle.

  But instead of starting down the levels, the three men began circling the top. They moved as one, first left, then right, fast than slow, and as they moved, they chanted in low tones. Lowering her weapon, she strained to hear their words. If they moved to attack, she would have plenty of time to react, for they were so far away. “Chosen bride, we claim you as ours.”

  Shaking her head, she decided she was not hearing correctly. The men seemed to be closing in their circle as they danced around the top level, the whispers drifting in bits and pieces to her section below. “Protect you… honor you… gift you with our seed…” The measure of their movement was hypnotizing, making her heart beat slow down, her muscles relax. “The Village of Konrad is pleased to welcome you, bride.”

  The men had somehow made their way down to the second level, but she was too confused by the contrasting chants of the Konrad warriors from the Finn fighter. He clearly named his own village, and added his people would be honored for her to bear their lineage in her womb. Then the chant became one again, the movement matching the beat of their steps now. “Chosen bride, we claim you as ours to protect. We will honor you above all others. Please accept the gift of our seed and bless us with many children.”

  Were they performing the mating dance? Jemina was stunned. Such traditions did not take place until a bride was to be claimed. Her brother and his triad, along with all others in the village, had to master the complex movements and pledge to be given when they wed. It took cycles to grasp the skill. Hadn’t this triad just formed? And why would they make their pledge now, before they had even been declared winners of the competition?

  Their dance brought them down into her area now. She did not lift her sword high, but kept it poised to bring up when the time came. She would do her best to only scar small portions of each man. She did not wish to face the rest of her life with men who resented her for besting them in battle.

  Anders was directly in front of her now, preparing to twist about for the next part of the dance. Jemina kept Loinbard and Aras’ placement in mind, knowing a surprise attack was more likely to come than a frontal maneuver. It was Anders’ misstep that broke her concentration. He stumbled, and his large frame hit the ground with a mighty thud. Her father Leodon yelled out an alert, but she did not hear it in time to stop what followed.r />
  Aras was at her side without warning, gently claiming her lips, his hands raised high to prove he was not a threat. The rightness of their mouths touching made Jemina sigh, and she stepped closer to him. His hard hands slowly lowered to her face, and he tilted her head so he could thrust his tongue between her lips. The sensations pouring across her body confused her.

  The sword in her hand was eased away, but she did not protest. Instead she lifted her hands to Aras’ waist, trying to find her balance as the world seemed to spin around her. When he pulled away from her, Jemina lifted her hand to touch her swollen lips in awe.

  A sound smack applied to her backside had her twirling around, reeling about to face an attacker. She found Aras shaking his finger at her. “That was for putting yourself in danger. Do it again, and I will bare your arse before we each take turns instructing you on the importance of your safety.”

  “How dare you strike a village daughter!” Jemina yelped, wishing she had come up with something better to say.

  The second smack was more unexpected than the first. Anders, no longer laying on the ground in apparent pain, was by her side. “I will kill any man who dares to raise a sword at you, even if it is only to relieve you of your weapon. If I learn you challenged him to do so, you will not sit comfortably for many days and nights.”

  Then the devil bent down to kiss her. Before she could object, he turned to start climbing back up the different levels. Jemina was quite upset with herself for not expecting the third hard hand that assaulted her backside. She was ready to jab Loinbard with her sword when she recalled she had somehow lost it.