She spotted Brom as he crossed the courtyard, the man Gregor beside him. Brom was an enigma to Sterling. He seemed at times very caring but at other times his demeanor was hard and unforgiving. She was fascinated by the markings that covered his upper body. The design was intricate, starting on his shoulder and working its way down to his wrist, then again on his upper chest and much of the right side of his back. The design seemed to be random swirls with images of demons depicted. She watched him as he said something to Gregor, then turned toward one of the buildings that stood against the wall surrounding Pan’Dale. The building had several windows that were nearly floor to ceiling, allowing spectators to see the many beds that lined the room.
Brom stepped into the building but stood at one end observing the occupants. At the other end of the long row of beds Sterling could see the two boys she’d encountered in the great hall. Between them was Gavin, the boy she’d taken hostage on her first day in Kai’Vari. Tibal Ar’Bethnot was the blonde’s name. He was the one that thought it funny to tell her that she no longer had a family. He seemed to gain a great amount of pleasure in telling her such horrible news. She made a mental note to avoid him. The dark headed one was Oramek. He was built like an ox, but from what she could tell he had a much nicer demeanor than Tibal. Gavin had a completely different look about him than the other two. His clothes were filthy, and his brown hair was disheveled as if he’d taken a roll in the dirt with a pig.
The three boys were completely unaware of Brom’s presence. She wondered how anyone could miss Brom. To Sterling his very presence overwhelmed her. She could barely breathe when he was near.
A yawn suddenly ripped through Sterling. Despite having slept most of the day she was still exhausted from the nightmares. She leaned her head back against the stone wall and closed her eyes. She prayed for a dreamless sleep.
Brom stood in the entry way of the barracks watching the three he would be training. Gregor had stopped him on his way here. He’d warned Brom of Tibal, saying he’d have his hands full with the Ar’Bethnot heir. But Brom was already familiar with the Ar’Bethnot heir’s cocky behavior.
The three had yet to notice his presence. That would be at the top of the list in their training. Always be aware of your surroundings.
Tibal laughed. “Did you see the expression on her face when I told her about her family?”
“You’re an ass, Tibal,” Oramek mumbled under his breath glaring at Tibal.
“And she is a Devian, with eyes that shine like my mother’s finest silver. She is a fine specimen,” Brom could hear the lecherous tone in Tibal’s comment, “and a Rin at that. What I wouldn’t give to have her in my bed.”
Gavin was the first to notice Brom standing there listening to their conversation. He quickly stood and bowed in the formal fashion, bent slightly at the waist with his hands clasped behind his back. The other two realized quickly what Gavin was about and in turn bowed at the waist as well.
“Tarkain.” Gavin said using the honorific.
Brom walked slowly down the center aisle of the barracks. The three would stay bowed until he acknowledged them. He too had gone through the same training when he was a nor’Veillen. It would teach them discipline and endurance. At first it would not bother them but after a while the angle of the bow would cause their backs to burn and their legs to ache.
Brom walked around the three not saying a word. Gavin was the smallest of the three, but Brom knew he had plenty of strength when he spent time with the boy in Sela’Char. Brom paused next to the largest of the three, Oramek. At only fifteen he was large. His muscular body told of his peasant’s existence. His hair was sun-bleached to a light sandy brown and his skin tanned. He had several calluses lining his hands. Brom had no worries about Oramek being a hard worker.
Tibal on the other hand was Oramek’s opposite in every aspect. He was his father’s son, blonde hair and skin that rarely felt the burn of the sun. Quemby Ar’Bethnot was a conniving council member whose only goal was to become the lead council to the king, and he would do anything to get to that position. I wouldn’t put it past him to have eyes on the throne, Brom thought. His son was no doubt just like him. From what Gregor had said, the boy showed signs of promise, but Brom knew he’d have to keep an eye on Quemby’s son.
Brom took one last look at the three, never saying a word. He definitely had his work cut out for him, but the outcome was worth the pain if they had just one more Veillen to fight off the never ending graekulls.
Brom turned to leave when the sudden grumbling of Oramek’s stomach stopped him. The boy’s face turned a bright red from embarrassment. It wasn’t bad enough that it found such an inopportune time to express itself, but that it was punctuated by the silence. Oramek’s stomach reminded him that he had missed the evening meal. He left them in their bowed position wondering who would give up first.
Gavin’s back was already starting to burn, but he dared not leave his position. He’d heard of this test of endurance and Brom would surely know if he did not stay the course. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his hamstrings trembled, but he maintained the bow. Gavin glanced to his right at Oramek whose face was still red from the embarrassment of having his stomach growl in front of Brom. Though Oramek’s eyes were closed in concentration his brow was also beaded with sweat.
Gavin glanced to his left to find Tibal with a smirk creasing the corner of his mouth. Gavin was surprised when Tibal stood. “This is ridiculous,” Tibal said, stretching his back.
“What are you doing?” Gavin whispered.
“I do not need to prove myself to anyone,” Tibal replied.
“Brom – err the Tarkain,” Gavin quickly corrected himself, “will know if you come out of position.”
“And what?” Tibal waved his hand in dismissal, “What will he do?”
Gavin could not believe Tibal’s audacity, “You obviously don’t know Brom then.”
Tibal flopped down on one of the beds and put his hands behind his head and crossed his booted feet on the bed. “So, you’re Norden’s youngest. My father tells me King Norden is losing his edge and that your older brother, Karroll, is nowhere near ready to take his place.”
Gavin looked at Tibal, “Your father talks too much.”
“And what of you Oramek, what of your family?”
Oramek took a deep breath before answering, “We live on a small farm in the Fal’Barbner hold. Our cattle are the best in all Kai’Vari.”
“Ha! A peasant. It seems the Veillen are lessening their standards.”
“Shut up Tibal.” Gavin growled.
“So, the Tarkain is your cousin?”
“Yes.” Gavin wished Tibal would shut up. He was already having a difficult time maintaining the position and Tibal’s nonsense wasn’t making it easier.
“I’ve heard of Brom Da’Gaihen.” Oramek said, “His tanak are impressive.”
“Ah yes, his tanak, they are quite impressive, but I’ve seen Veillen with more tanak than the Tarkain.”
“Yes, but they are twice his age.” Gavin argued.
“Either way your cousin does not scare me,” Tibal boasted.
Tibal’s bold words irritated Gavin. He has no idea what Brom is capable of. If he’d seen him deal with the Severon that had tried to take Sterling, he’d realize very quickly that Brom was not a man to take lightly.
“Then you are a fool.” Oramek’s words mirrored Gavin’s thoughts.
For a while they fell into silence. Tibal dozed while Gavin and Oramek stood in their bowed positions. Gavin’s legs were shaking while his back burned from having to remain in the same inclined state. His arms felt like heavy logs, his fingers struggling to maintain their grip.
Brom had always protected him from harm and from his father’s rage when Gavin made careless mistakes. His cousin treated him with the reverence a crown prince deserved. He would not be angry if Gavin relaxed. But then he didn’t want to disappoint Brom.
“Surely, you do not think your own cousin wil
l punish you if you do not maintain the bow,” Tibal said. His eyes closed while his head was propped on his folded arms.
Gavin tried to ignore Tibal, but the thought had entered his mind. He was Brom’s cousin and of the royal family, Brom would not punish him.
“Don’t do it,” Oramek groaned.
“Don’t listen to him, he is but a peasant. He is used to the rigors of physical labor, we are nobility.”
Gavin looked at Oramek and then at Tibal. He slowly stood, his back screaming in pain.
“See, you were not stricken down by some unseen force.”
Gavin was relieved to be out of the painful position and after stretching out his back he sat on the bed opposite of Tibal while Oramek remained in the bow. Gavin immediately felt guilty for leaving Oramek alone. “I’ll keep a look out.” Gavin couldn’t sit by and watch Oramek.
An hour passed without a word from Brom. Gavin glanced at Oramek. His body was shaking with the effort of holding the position, his eyes closed, and jaw clenched. How much longer would Brom leave them? It was too cruel of his cousin.
“Oramek, please do not do this to yourself.” Gavin pleaded, “Brom will not punish you.”
“No,” Oramek said behind his clenched teeth, “this is the task we’ve been given.”
“Stubborn.”
“More like a fool.” Tibal sneered at Oramek.
“Shut up Tibal.” Gavin was tired of Tibal’s attitude.
Tibal laughed, “You’re both fools. The Tarkain is all hot air. Yes, he is good with a sword, but do you honestly think he would do anything to nobility?”
Gavin’s heart jumped when the light of a door opening shone across the courtyard and a long shadow appeared in the light. “He’s coming,” he half whispered before jumping up and returning to his position beside Oramek. He glanced at Oramek’s shoulder and could feel his entire body shaking. “Come on Tibal.”
“I’m coming,” Tibal said lazily as he stood, yawned and found his place beside Gavin.
Gavin clasped his hands behind his back and returned to the inclined bow. The minute he found the proper angle his back started to ache again. How could Oramek endure this for so long? Gavin wondered.
Brom’s booted footsteps grew closer and with each step Gavin’s heart rate increased. Would Brom know that he had not stayed in position? Would he really punish them for not remaining? Surely Brom would not lay a hand on him. Would he?
“Relax,” Tibal whispered
“Yeah, yeah.” Gavin responded. He flinched when Brom’s footsteps finally reached the wooden stairs to the barracks and he opened the tall door. For the first time in his life he did not want to see his cousin’s face. He respected Brom and because of that he did not want to see the disappointment in Brom’s eyes.
“You may stand.”
Both he and Tibal stood, but Oramek remained in a bowed position. “He said you can stand Oramek.” Gavin said.
“I bloody well know that,” Oramek groaned in pain as he tried to stand.
“Come with me,” Brom said, turning away from his students.
Oramek tried to take a step, but stumbled to his knees when his legs gave out.
“Help him.” He ordered pointing at Oramek.
Tibal ignored Brom’s order and left Gavin to help Oramek to his feet. Gavin put one of Oramek’s arms over his shoulders. He eased Oramek into a standing position. Oramek groaned in pain but found the strength to stand. They slowly followed Brom out of the barracks and across the courtyard. The night air was cool, and he was sure it offered some relief to Oramek. The boy’s clothes were soaked through with sweat. “You did good,” Gavin whispered to Oramek.
Brom led them around the side of the keep to the door that led to the bathing chamber and unlocked the door with a set of keys. He glanced at the three of them before entering, still not a word leaving his lips. They followed him down the dark stairwell that was lit only by dim candles that flickered precariously in the draft that followed them. Gavin could hear the water as it dripped, echoing off the damp stone. The further down they went the more humid the air became until they emerged from the stairwell into the Pan’Dale bathing chamber. Three maids stood waiting along the side of the pool of steaming water.
Tibal chuckled under his breath, “See I told you.” He whispered looking back at Oramek and Gavin.
The relief that filled Gavin’s chest nearly took his breath away. He could barely contain the smile that wanted to escape. “So, you did,” he whispered back.
Brom waved with an impatient hand and Gavin carried Oramek to the waiting maids. He eased him down onto one of the stone benches that circled the pool. One of the maid servants immediately began working to remove Oramek’s boots while the other two gently pulled his sweat soaked shirt over his head. Every now and again Oramek would grimace in pain.
Tibal could no longer contain his happiness. He laughed and sat down on another of the benches and started to work on the laces of his high boots.
“What do you think you are doing?” Brom’s irritation was evident in his words.
“I’m removing my clothes, what does it look like?” Tibal’s tone was one of a spoiled noble.
“You are mistaken.” Brom’s words were cold, “the two of you are to come with me.” He glanced from Tibal to Gavin and in that instant Gavin knew that Brom was aware that neither of them had endured the hardship of his test.
Guilt turned his cheeks red as he walked over to stand beside Brom. “Did you not think I could tell you hadn’t remained?” Brom asked quietly. “Look at Oramek’s condition. If you had remained you would be in the same shape.”
Tibal ignored Brom and continued to unlace his leather boots. Gavin heard the impatient sigh as Brom walked around the pool to stand behind Tibal. Completely unaware of Brom’s presence Tibal pulled his boot from his foot, a proud smile showing off his white teeth.
Brom reached down and grabbed Tibal by the scruff of his shirt, plucking him off the bench to stand before him. “You will not disobey me again.” Gavin had never heard Brom utter words with such an icy unflinching tone before. When Tibal took a breath to protest, the look in Brom’s eyes caused Gavin to cringe. Tibal was not stupid and realized very quickly that he would be in even more trouble if a single breath passed his lips.
“Yes Tarkain,” Tibal’s sullen words were said behind a pouting lip.
“Follow me,” Brom ordered, taking one of the torches that hung in the sconces along the perimeter of the chamber.
“But, my boot,” Tibal moaned, but Brom ignored his pleas.
He ascended the stairs and once in the courtyard he led them down the long winding road that led to Menarik. The moon was high in the night sky and highlighted the sleeping houses that lined the streets. Brom walked past the main thoroughfare and continued past the outlying homes until he reached a farm house that sat out alone by itself, surrounded by fields of unplowed soil.
Gavin saw a grizzled farmer standing along the side of the road as if waiting for their arrival. His toothless grin did not bode well for he or Tibal. Gavin started to get the sinking feeling that he and Tibal were about to find out what happens when Brom’s orders were not followed.
“Are these the nors?” The old man’s voice was as gravelly as the road they stood upon.
Brom turned to face them, “Do you know what this is?”
“Our punishment.” Gavin responded, his heart sinking to his stomach.
“You disobeyed an order and for that your punishment is what you see before you.”
“A field of dirt?” Tibal scoffed, “You must be joking.”
“Not just a field of dirt, a field of farmland that must be plowed by morning. Veillen who cannot follow orders are nothing more than mules fit only for plowing a field.” Brom pointed to a plow that sat waiting at the far end of the field. The old farmer was climbing into the seat, but the places where the mules would have been harnessed were empty. Brom walked between him and Tibal. “Go, Berk is waiting for his mu
les,” he said, before pushing them both forward toward the waiting plow.
“You cannot be serious,” Tibal protested
“I am very serious and because you continued to disobey me, once you are finished plowing the field the stone wall needs repair. You will move the stones from the farm house to the wall.”
“I will…” Tibal started again
“Shut up,” Gavin growled at Tibal. “If you keep on he’ll have us doing even more work. Just keep your mouth shut and follow orders.” Gavin was angry at Tibal for talking him out of staying with Oramek, but even angrier at himself. He pulled Tibal by the shoulder and walked across the hard-packed earth.
They both paused once they reached the plow. It was an old piece of equipment with rust covering the iron fittings and two wood yokes covered in worn leather. Gavin ducked under the arm and put his head through the yoke, so it rested on his shoulders. He looked at Tibal who had a piteous look on his face, “Let us get this over with.”
“I only have one boot,” Tibal sighed as he lifted the yoke mimicking Gavin’s position.
“Get ready boys, you’re in for a long night,” Berk laughed as a whip cracked between his and Tibal’s heads. Gavin jumped and pushed with all his might into the yoke. He could feel the leather digging into his shoulders as he pushed as hard as he could, but the plow refused to budge. He glanced over at Tibal who was barely putting any effort into the task. He was about to tell his him to help when the whip suddenly cracked again. Tibal yelped in pain as a spot of blood stained his right shoulder. “Get a move on,” the farmer yelled. Tibal looked over his shoulder to see the jovial old man gone, and replaced with an unrelenting task master.
Tibal grimaced at the pain and dug into the dirt with his one booted foot, his face red with exertion. Gavin joined him, and he felt some relief when the plow started to move. They continued to push forward with all their strength, the plow slowly moving forward. He gripped the yoke with both hands and pushed forward leaning into the task.
The Elemental Union: Book One Devian Page 22
