Claiming Their Village Bride

by Abby Aaron

  Aras motioned for his brothers to inch closer to their chosen bride so they could learn more. “And what do they focus on, Jem? How can this chaos provide helpful information?” He asked in a low voice, his warm breath blowing strands of her hair aside. He took pleasure in the way she shivered slightly.

  “It is never too early to note strong bonds and potential groups for determining effective teams for training purposes. Triads may not be formed for cycles to come, but clusters of fledglings will be quickly sorted into squads for drilling sessions. The men charged with leading the exercises are careful to seek as much information as they can before even calling a halt to the fun and giving their welcoming speech. Which boys work together? Which are too immature to realize alliances improve the odds? Which have been trained in fighting by fathers and which are unskilled in even the most basic fighting methods?”

  She dared to glance back at the three men near her. Each was dressed in their village’s colors. Sighing, Jemina wondered if there were three more attractive men in all of new earth. She imagined the few survivors from the war on old earth were much like Aras, Anders and Loinbard. Strong, wise, fit for protecting what was theirs. They would give her strong, skilled offspring.

  “I can easily see flaws in that young boy, there. He reminds me a lot of Hendrix and Johan,” she told them, pointing to a boy who flexed his muscles and fought dirty to maintain his position on the top level. “A knowledgeable trainer would quickly realize the potential for trouble with such arrogance. He would ensure the boy learn humility before moving to a higher position in the training class. Since you are unlikely to have much time to work with the children, it would be best to avoid spending too much effort on him or others like him. It will take cycles to break through his arrogance, if ever.”

  Anders gave her a smile, nudging his new brothers with pride in her wisdom. “If you were training this lot, which boys would you consider to have the best potential?”

  She bent over the side for a better view, and Aras quickly grabbed hold of her slender hips to help maintain her balance. He pulled her further back and gave her a silent frown. Jemina had little doubt he would smack her backside if she dared to repeat the action. Since it was already sore from last night’s secret visit, she felt it was best to heed his warning.

  She waited until one of her fathers had moved farther out of hearing range before speaking. It pleased Jemina that her preferred triad listened to her advice. Had she earned their respect? They had gained hers.

  “Established sets of children are no doubt best for the challenge Darnish has planned. They already know how to share duties and work effectively as a team. See that group of boys on the middle level? They are blood brothers. The two older brothers are strong enough to challenge for the top level, but they won’t sacrifice their younger brother for the fleeting victory. They guard his back as he finds the courage to hold his ground and protect himself from those seeking to send him down to the lowest, weakest level. This gives him a chance to work on his sparring skills so they improve as a unit and can challenge for higher rank later on.”

  Loinbard asked about another group of boys near the top level on the side farthest from where they stood. “Those three children over there are cutthroat and wield a mighty wooden sword. They took out that larger set of boys by working together. Wouldn’t they work just as well and be a better choice?”

  “I noticed them as well,” Anders said, a touch of bitterness in his tone. “Two of the three seem more united than the third. I have little doubt they will only allow him to join with them so long as it benefits their agenda. The moment it doesn’t, they will turn on him without hesitation.”

  “Is that what Hendrix and Johan did to you?” Jemina touched his arm. “No wonder I am repulsed by them. Anyone who could insult you in such a way could never be a friend of mine.”

  Anders’ face filled with a grin. “Do not be too harsh with their rejection of me. Had it not been for them, I would never have ventured here and joined forces with my new brothers. It was almost as if the Creator above planned each of our paths to lead us to this point in time. Aras, Loinbard and I have bonded closer in a few days than my old triad had in cycles of working together. We share a common rare gem.”

  Jemina recalled her many, vivid dreams. “I suspect the Creator knows our union would be a perfect fit.” Dare she share her nighttime visions? They might think she was wanton and lose some of their respect because of her foolish, romantic notions.

  Darnish summoned the candidates to where he stood. “It is time to announce the third challenge. At present, Konrad-Finn’s men claim one victory. Finn’s triad has the second. May the best set of men take a win from today’s event. Below you will find the future warriors who will protect our village borders and the city wall. If any of you produce daughters, one of these boys could show up at your family unit to fight for the right to claim her as their bride.

  “You have had a chance to observe what talents are present within the children, what skills they bring to the training fields and what deficits they need to work on improving. Each triad will be allowed to select three from the budding fledglings below. You will have two days to work with them, under our watchful observation, of course. At the end of that time, we will gather in the meeting area for a unique competition. This time, you will not be fighting for the win this challenge sets forth. The young charges you select will take the knowledge you provided them to earn you a glorious victory or shame in defeat.”

  “They keep falling over each other,” Anders complained. “I doubt we will have time to help them learn to move as one.”

  The youngest boy, a lad of twelve stopped training to glare at the Konrad-Finn warriors. “Untie the rope you have anchoring us together and we won’t knock into each other as much.”

  Loinbard turned away, not wanting the boys to see his amusement. The three fledglings saw his broad shoulder’s shake, and mistook his laughter for rage. A redheaded, older boy grabbed hold of the length of rope connected to his younger brother’s ankle. He gave it a pull, sending the boy falling on his butt in reproach. “Show some respect, Usman. Do you want to get us beaten?”

  Aras stepped forward and pulled the youngster back up. He regarded the three boys solemnly. “We do not beat those under our care,” he sought to assure them. A reproachful sound echoed from the thick tree behind him. Hands on his hips, he swung around and walked over to spy Jemina perched behind a thick cluster of leaves.

  “Tell that to my ass,” she hissed down at him. Loinbard’s laughter was uncontrollable now. Anders stepped between Aras and the boys to distract them.

  “Do you truly consider that mild correction to be in line with a beating?” Aras demanded. When she finally admitted as much, he spoke again, “Interrupt our training session again without a helpful hint or suggestion, and I will pull you down from that tree, turn your backside as red as a hot poker and send you away. Do you understand me, young lady?”

  Sticking her tongue out at him, she pulled the leaves in front of her body and hid from view. Shaking his head, he returned to the boys. “Listen carefully so I can explain Anders’ suggestion to unite you with a rope at the ankles. You each are skilled at moving about, facing challenges ahead of you, and many from behind. Many grown fledglings take cycles to learn as much.”

  Usher, the oldest of the lot grinned boldly at the praise. “But we aren’t working as an effective team?” He acknowledged with maturity well beyond his years.

  “Two of you are,” Anders interjected. “You and Ulices are masters of protecting your brother’s back. You have been holding your own development in check, no doubt waiting for him to catch up to your own level.”

  “Our mom would not let us join the training field until he was ready,” Ulices, who was probably Usher’s twin explained. “She was worried his wild ways might cause him harm, and suggested it would be the brotherly thing to do. Our mother is a very persuasive woman, sirs. Besides, as aggravating as Usman may be,
he has the makings of a great warrior one day. We mean to form a triad so we can service the city wall and claim a bride.”

  Aras tensed, knowing the folly such a plan meant, but unable to explain why. This was not the time or place to agonize over the family secret he guarded. “We know of Usman’s skill. You two are not as observant. He is close, if not equal, to your ability to wield a weapon. It is time for you three to learn the task of working as one.”

  Anders took over the explanation and his new brothers walked over to position the fledglings. “You are no longer held back from perfecting your fighting skills. It is time to work on honing your talents. Yes, you need to protect the youngest, but don’t let him fight your battles alone.”

  “Ha!” Usman smirked. “Told you. I am a mighty warrior. Stop sitting on your asses and fight alongside me. I am not a baby!”

  Loinbard dropped to a knee so he was eye to eye with the youngest child. “You also need to learn how to work as a team, young man. You are so used to your brothers protecting your back that you are often vulnerable from behind.” Nodding with understanding, the boy proudly boasted he could easily correct that fault. “But it is not your own back you need to protect, Usman. It is time to be equal to your brothers and protect them with as much dedication as they have you in the past. Can you do that?”

  Aras addressed all three boys now. “You cannot protect a brother who is out of your reach. The rope helps train warriors to be attentive of where members of the triad are at all times. Soon you will not need it to help you gauge when the others stand or what challenges they are dealing with.”

  “But our father and his triad tell brave tales of their battles. They leave one member exposed, while the other two plan counter attacks from the side.” Usher sought clarification.

  It was Loinbard who clarified the point. “Yes, there will be times when you must move individually to address challenges your triad faces. When outside of the village, enemies and wild beasts will attack using the element of surprise. Your village trainers will prepare you to notice subtle clues of possible dangers and how to separate to effectively handle the issue, but such is for a future lesson. Right now, we hope to help you perform as one so when it is time to distance yourself from one another, you will still be able to sense your brothers’ position and intent.”

  The boys worked all day learning to move as a group. Their trainers acted as attackers, pointing out strategies available to counter different occurrences. Anders even insisted on sharing some of the dirty practices other triads might employ to gain an advantage. After working with Hendrix and Johan for so many cycles, he had a vast knowledge of such tactics. He also had suggestions for handling such dishonorable actions.

  By the second day, the boys were freed from the confinement of the rope. They moved like dancers across the patch of land where they trained. When one of them had to advance, the other two moved backwards to ensure no one could attack from behind.

  But as the day wore on, the boys grew tired and hungry. Some of their focus waned. Loinbard tried to demonstrate how vulnerable Ulices was near the end of the day. He had advanced without signaling his brothers. The Konrad warrior moved in for the attack, meaning to prove how losing focus could be deadly. A hard, crushing blow from behind sent him falling to his knees. Turning around, he saw an arrogant Usman.

  Jemina’s loud gasp ripped down from the trees, but when the boy held out his hand to help Loinbard to his feet, she started chuckling with relief. “Sorry about that, sir,” Usman smiled. “I hated to strike you, but my brother’s protection was at risk. You did explain it was my duty to watch his back, right?”

  16

  Protecting the Fragile

  Darnish stood on the platform at the center of the meeting area. The three groups of boys selected by the men to compete stood behind him. He told the children to go stand by their trainers to await further instruction. Finnegan dashed between the triads, tossing what appeared to be a sack toward them. Aras bent down to pick up the cloth and examine it.

  “It’s an egg apron,” Jemina whispered. She stood far enough apart from them so it appeared she was listening to her father’s words from the center.

  True enough, the garment was lined with pockets from top to bottom and all the way around. Aras wondered at its importance as Loinbard offered words of encouragement to the boys they had worked with. “No matter what happens today, consider this your first chance to prove your worth to the elders. The win is not your primary focus.”

  Anders and Jemina scoffed at his comment. He stared back at them with resolve. “Have both of you forgotten the weight of competing in an official event for the first time? No one will claim the final, third victory of this challenge. Yet three future warriors will relive every mistake they chanced to make here today. Should we add the shame of costing their trainers a bit of glory on top of that?”

  “Continue,” Aras said, only half listening to what his blood brother said to the boys. They had discussed the importance of giving the children calming words to lead them into the event. Anders had been a part of the discussion, but he must have taken exception to the part about winning not being the focus.

  “Work as a team. Be mindful of where your brothers stand and what dangers lurk around your whole triad. Communicate in ways only your mates can understand so you can keep the advantage of surprise,” Loinbard concluded.

  “Win this challenge,” Jemina said just loud enough for the three youngsters to hear, “and I will put in a good word with the lead warrior fledglings train under.”

  The three boys smiled brightly at that promise and set their shoulders straight, awaiting orders from Darnish. The other groups were focused on the center platform as well. “Have the youngest of your group put on the egg apron. We will wait until this is done to continue.”

  Usman balked at the notion when Aras approached him. “I just outgrew this baby task,” he protested. “Official fledglings never have to put that stupid thing on again.”

  Aras did not try to reason with the boy. Instead he gave Usher, the unspoken leader of the brothers a pointed expression. The teenage boy took a deep breath and accepted the responsibility of handling any strife within his group. “If Darnish, a seasoned warrior, instructs you to put on something, brother, you do it. One day we will be in his position. How would you feel if a new fledgling refused your command?”

  The younger boy yanked the apron over his face crossly. “Fine, I will put it on, but if anyone laughs, I will punch them in the ball sack.”

  Darnish nodded with approval when his orders had been fulfilled. “The cooks want to prepare eggs for our morning meal following this challenge,” he teased. “Send the boys in your charge to collect some from the henhouse.”

  “Is there a set number to be collected?” Tyler asked for his triad.

  “We will allow each group to determine that for themselves,” he replied, inclining his head in deferment. Aras noticed the other Konrad triad discussed matters with their children. He observed that the Finns’ training mirrored their leader’s arrogance. The older boys sent the youngest off to collect the eggs alone.

  All the information he had surmised about Darnish’s reasoning and his planning of this challenge rolled around in Aras’ brain. He had an inkling of what was to follow and decided to follow his gut. “Usher, Ulices and Usman, listen carefully. Work to fill every single pocket of this apron with eggs. You older boys, concentrate on putting some in the places your brother cannot reach. Do not leave a single pocket empty. Do you two have pockets? Yes? Good, fill them with eggs, too. Don’t leave a single egg behind if you can manage it.”

  “Do we steal the eggs of the other teams?” Ulices asked with cautious optimism. “Anders will be disappointed in such a dishonorable action, but if you think it is necessary...”

  “No, do not take what is not yours. Once an egg is in the hand of another, it is off bounds,” Aras said and chuckled when he noted the disappointment in Usman’s tiny face at not be
ing able to battle for the right to collect eggs. “Keep your chin up, young man.” He laughed. “If I am correct, you will get to lay claim to the other teams’ eggs soon enough.”

  Usman was a comical sight when he returned from the hens’ house, his size nearly double due to the eggs he carried. The boy even had some in his arms, though he dropped a few as he tried to balance them and his wooden sword at the same time.

  Hendrix and his group made no effort to hide their mocking comments. “It’s a surprise someone with such short legs can walk, much less lug around his weight in eggs.” Their own fledgling returned with his front pockets full, a resentful look on his face at being left to handle the demeaning task alone. One of his fellow team members pushed him down for daring to complain, breaking a few of the fragile shells in the apron. Johan cackled at the hint of yellow liquid slipping from the boy’s egg sack material.

  Tyler praised his group when they arrived back. Though a few pockets remained unfilled, a fair amount lined the child’s apron. He and his triad gave a few words of praise to the boys they trained before turning back to the platform to await future instructions.

  Laughing at the extra eggs the Konrad-Finn group had collected, Darnish offered a bit of advice. “You will need your hands and weapons for this task, young fledglings. Might I suggest you find a way to stow the surplus in your pockets?” He threw back his head to howl with appreciation a moment later. The boys had indicated to the already brimming compartments in their clothes.