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The Almost King

Page 2

by Lucy Saxon


  ‘Gentlemen!’ the commander barked, his hand on Aleks’s shoulder. ‘I’d like to introduce you to your new room-mate, Cadet Vasin. Be gentle with him – he looks a bit fragile.’ Aleks bristled, but the commander was the only one to laugh at the joke. ‘Lieutenant Shulga will be here to pick him up in the morning for induction, so don’t let him wander into the firing range overnight. Waste of enlistment forms,’ he added in a mutter. He glanced down at Aleks, nudging him a little further into the room. ‘I’ll see you if you happen to be enrolled in mechanical combat.’ There was a bloodthirsty smirk on his face, and Aleks resolved at that moment to do everything within his power to avoid being enrolled in mechanical combat. ‘At ease, men!’ With that last yell, the commander turned on his heel and left the barracks, the door slamming shut behind him and leaving Aleks alone in a room with twenty complete strangers.

  ‘That’s yours over there,’ one of the cadets told him, pointing to a bed further back with his saddlebag draped on it. The beds had thin mattresses and navy wool blankets, each with a black leather chest at the foot. Aleks bit his lip; his saddlebag looked a lot lighter than it had when he’d last seen it. How much had they stolen from him?

  ‘Thanks,’ he murmured, crossing over to the bed. There was also a pile of training clothes in blue, white and black, looking to be about his size. They hadn’t given him boots, but he knew his own would serve him perfectly well. ‘I’m Aleks, by the way.’ No one responded, and he didn’t say anything more, shrugging his coat off as the rest of his room-mates went back to whatever they’d been doing before the commander had interrupted. A group of younger cadets, all about Aleks’s age, were playing some sort of card game in the corner, betting cigarettes and round coins made of wood with lettering painted on them. Others were sitting on their beds, reading, staring at the ceiling, or in one case sharpening a knife. Aleks hadn’t thought they were allowed weapons in the barracks.

  ‘You forced or voluntary?’ He looked up at the question, seeing the man in the bed next to his eyeing him inquisitively. His cropped hair was dark blond, almost brown, and his eyes were a bright shade of green. He looked older than Aleks, perhaps nineteen or twenty, and oddly slender for a military cadet. His accent sounded like that of an Easterner.

  ‘Voluntary,’ Aleks replied, stripping off his jacket. ‘You?’

  ‘Same. Barely, though. It was here or the streets, and I didn’t really fancy my chances up East,’ the man replied wryly. ‘How about you?’

  Aleks shrugged, shuffling on to the bed and leaning his back against the wall. ‘My older brothers have all made something of themselves. Wives, kids, all that. I wanted to do something they hadn’t already done.’

  The man raised an eyebrow at him. ‘And you chose this?’

  Aleks bit his lip somewhat defensively. ‘Yeah, why not? Learn new skills, serve my king and country, be part of something bigger and all that,’ he reasoned, his tone a little dry as he practically quoted the recruitment casts. Truly, he was excited for the travelling aspect of serving, but that was a long way off yet.

  The blond man gave him an almost pitying look, shaking his head.‘Where you from?’

  ‘Out West, tiny little village called Baysar,’ Aleks replied, and his companion snorted.

  ‘Explains everything, then,’ he muttered. Aleks wondered if he’d already been insulted by the first – and only – person in the barracks willing to talk to him. ‘Just . . . almost everyone here, we’re here ’cause we’ve got nowhere else to go. Orphanages, prisons, the streets, death, they’re the alternatives. And, well, it might be bad around here, but it’s better than nothing. You’re naive – it’s refreshing.’

  ‘Is no one here just because they want to be?’ Aleks asked, aghast. This man was making the army sound like another sort of prison. All the soldiers he’d seen before, the ones who had come through the village during tax season or when there was a criminal on the loose, they’d all seemed honoured to be part of the army, encouraging young boys to enlist when they grew old enough, to make their king proud. It seemed like all the men of a certain age had been in the army at some point in their lives, and they spoke about their time with a particular fondness that only they seemed to understand.

  ‘Yeah, the lords’ brats who come in here at Lieutenant rank and don’t do any real work,’ his companion told him. ‘Only cadets who really want to be here are the psychos who like having a gun in their hands and permission to use it. We get wide-eyed brats like you every now and then, but they don’t last all that long before ending up in medical, begging to leave. Ration chips have probably already changed hands as to how long you’ll last. I might bet a week, myself. Maybe ten days if you get decent enrolment.’ Aleks glanced over at the cadets playing cards in the corner that the blond man was gesturing to, and one of them saluted mockingly with a fistful of wooden chips as he caught Aleks’s gaze.

  ‘A week! Do I really look that pathetic?’ he demanded indignantly.

  ‘Well, you didn’t turn up in handcuffs or rags, so as far as we see it you’ve got better places to be,’ the older man replied evenly. ‘Not that it matters much now. You’ve signed your four years, you’re stuck here. You should’ve paid the fee.’

  ‘What fee?’

  ‘They didn’t offer you the enlistment fee?’ Aleks shook his head, frowning.

  ‘Hang on – the man who walked you in here, Commander Antova, was he the one who took your forms?’ Aleks nodded, perplexed by the abrupt turn in conversation. ‘Sounds about right. Grumpy bastard never lets anyone off.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Aleks pressed, but the blond man shook his head.

  ‘Doesn’t matter now, your forms are in, it’s too late. But gods, you’ve got rotten luck.’ His words frustrated Aleks, who gave up, deciding he’d find out what the man was talking about soon enough.

  ‘What’s your name, anyway?’ Aleks asked, realising he’d never been given it.

  The man’s lips twitched, his green eyes glinting in the low lamplight. ‘Do you really need it? I doubt you’ll be around long enough to use it much,’ he replied, but Aleks held his gaze confidently. ‘It’s Jarek.’

  ‘Pleasure to meet you, Jarek,’ Aleks replied, though pleasure was definitely not what his tone suggested.

  Jarek smirked, getting to his feet. ‘Try not to get eaten too early, baby bird.’

  Now: Rensav

  A week seemed too long to even contemplate, Aleks thought as he dragged himself through the door of his barracks, shivering violently and soaking wet, every inch of his body aching. He’d learned as soon as he got to the communal showers that he was the newest cadet on base, which earned him the honour of last shower. The water was like ice by the time he could take his turn.

  The obstacle course was brutal, there was no other way to put it. The first time round was bad enough, but the lieutenant wasn’t happy with Aleks’s time and insisted he do it another three times over before he was satisfied. Directly after that he was taken to the firing range, where his firearms skills were put to the test despite his inability to raise his arms. He’d barely been able to hold the gun, and had no doubt appalled Shulga with his poor aim, but as far as Aleks was concerned he hadn’t shot a fellow cadet and that was a perfectly successful endeavour.

  Crawling on to his bed, he turned his face to the pillow, wondering if suffocating himself would get him out of evening drills. Probably not; Shulga didn’t seem the type to take death as an excuse.

  ‘You’re still alive, then.’ He glanced up at the voice, seeing Jarek sinking down on to the next bed.

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ he retorted, earning a snort. ‘Storms, I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again.’

  ‘You won’t,’ the other man replied. ‘I’ve been here a year, and I’m still half-frozen from my first shower. I think they pump the water directly from the River Dynn.’ Aleks winced, tugging his blankets up over his sodden form. ‘At least you survived induction. That’s half the battle.�


  ‘Is it?’ Aleks asked hopefully.

  Jarek laughed. ‘Gods, no. It’s barely the beginning. Like I said, I give you a week.’ Aleks scowled at him, making the man grin, but they were interrupted by the same ear-splitting klaxon from the morning. ‘Ooh, dinner call. About time too. Think you can stand?’

  After some exceptionally pathetic flailing, and a hand from Jarek, Aleks managed to get to his feet. Changing his wet jacket and shirt for dry ones, he followed Jarek and the others from the barracks to the cafeteria. He was still chilled to the bone, but at least his torso was dry. He couldn’t help but think wistfully of the job he’d had back home; he’d thought it exhausting at the time, but it was child’s play in comparison to this. Still, he was confident he’d get used to military life, in time.

  Before: The Tunnels

  His shoulders ached and burned with every swing of the pickaxe. Wiping a gloved hand over his sweaty forehead, Aleks glanced around, frowning at his fellow workmen. He wasn’t the only one to have stopped, and the grimy clock propped up against a rusting bucket showed they were right on target. ‘Y’know, I think we might actually be done with this,’ Nikolas said, letting his own axe fall to the ground with a clatter. Aleks’s frown deepened, and he surveyed the dark stone walls carefully.

  ‘I think you might be right,’ he agreed tentatively, unsure whether or not he was happy at the news. On the one hand, it meant no more slaving away for hours in the humid tunnels. On the other, it meant the end of his job, and therefore the end of his income.

  ‘I’ll go and ask the boss,’ Nikolas said, heading deeper into the dimly lit cavern.

  Creating a four-way tunnel beneath the Kholar Mountains was no small task, and crews had been working on it for years. Aleks had only been in the job for four months, since he’d finished school, but every day had seemed as long as ten. It could’ve been worse, though; one of his classmates had ended up shovelling dung on a cattle farm.

  Nikolas returned, a grin on his face that had Aleks slumping in relief. ‘You’re free to go, gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure working with you,’ he announced. ‘Our job here is done. They’ll be bringing the mechanics in soon to start laying tracks.’

  ‘They’ll start paving the walkways too, won’t they?’ Kai asked, gesturing to the raised platforms off to each side that were to become the walkways for those too poor to afford train tickets. Nikolas nodded, nudging them both towards the pinprick of light that was the outside world.

  ‘Maybe I can apply for that, then. See if they’ll hire me,’ Aleks wondered, earning a bark of laughter from Kai.

  ‘Good luck. You know how they feel about these tunnels. Have to look perfect, and they can’t do that with your clumsy hands paving the floors,’ the older man teased. Aleks glared, half-heartedly bumping Kai with his shoulder. A job in the tunnels was the closest he’d get to leaving his village, and he wanted to keep that dream alive as long as possible.

  3

  Now: Rensav

  After a meagre dinner, having been pushed to the back of the queue by every cadet until all that remained was the cold dregs of stew, Aleks took the opportunity to try and find the stables and see Quicksilver; a day’s separation from his horse was more frustrating than he was willing to admit. It would be a weight off his shoulders if he could just see that his gelding was safe and cared for.

  Walking straight past the rows of identical barracks, Aleks tried not to appear suspicious as he eyed the buildings further up the road. A lot of them were clearly administration and medical buildings, but he let out a triumphant mutter when he saw a low, long building that seemed to span miles, and could hardly be anything but stables. The door was open, and he was accosted as soon as he entered. ‘What do you want?’ the man sneered, wearing the blue riding breeches and tall black boots of the mounted infantry.

  ‘I arrived yesterday, and brought my horse with me. I want to see him,’ Aleks said evenly.

  ‘Dappled grey gelding, fifteen-two, one white sock?’ the Private checked. Aleks nodded, trying not to let his relief show. At least Quicksilver had definitely reached the stables.

  ‘That’s the one. Quicksilver,’ he confirmed, making the Private roll his eyes.

  ‘I don’t care about his name, brat. Follow me.’ Aleks stayed close at the man’s heel as he walked past rows of stables. The horses didn’t look starved; Aleks supposed that while starving the cadets could be considered character-building, starving the horses was cruelty however you looked at it.

  Turning down a row near the end of the building, Aleks’s face lit up. Quicksilver’s head was hanging over the door of his stable, his ears back and his eyes narrowed but otherwise OK, as far as he could tell. ‘Don’t stay too long,’ the Private ordered. ‘I need to get them all fed soon and I don’t need you in the way.’ Aleks nodded, already halfway inside the stable, and he chuckled as a pale pink nose shoved hard into his side.

  ‘Hello, you,’ he muttered, smiling properly for the first time since he’d arrived in the South. Stroking the gelding’s neck, he pulled the stable door shut behind him and reached over to flip the latch into place. Ignoring the young horse’s playful nudges, he set to work checking him over, running his hands carefully over every inch of hair and muscle. ‘Looks like you’re getting better treatment than I am, boy,’ Aleks murmured, pressing his forehead to the horse’s warm neck. ‘Oh, I don’t like this,’ he confessed in the barest whisper. ‘I don’t like this at all.’ He couldn’t quit yet, though. Not after only one day. Everything new was uncomfortable until you got used to it.

  When he couldn’t find a reason to stay any longer, Aleks pressed a kiss to the horse’s nose, tugging playfully on his forelock as he left the stable and hurrying from the building before another stablehand could reprimand him.

  Ducking round a group of men gathered by the door of his barracks, he headed straight for his bed, kicking off his boots and pulling the blankets over his shoulders.

  ‘Where’ve you been, then?’ Jarek queried nonchalantly, writing in a notebook balanced on his knees.

  ‘Stables,’ Aleks replied. ‘Checking on my horse.’

  Jarek looked up from his writing. ‘You brought a horse? Gods, you’re thick, aren’t you?’ Aleks scowled at him, making the older man smirk. ‘You’ll see. Just don’t expect to be riding your own horse when you start training. Should’ve pegged you for a mounter – too scrawny for anything else.’ Aleks thought that was a bit rich coming from the long-limbed Easterner, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

  ‘I’ll see tomorrow, won’t I?’ he retorted. He had his schedule, and his first training slot of the day was with the mounted infantry. ‘What are you writing?’ He knew Jarek had no family, so it couldn’t be a letter home. Maybe he had a sweetheart in the city.

  ‘None of your business, is it?’ the man snapped defensively, shifting to cover the notebook from Aleks’s gaze.

  Aleks thought of his own family. Did they even miss him? Probably not too much; even when it had just been him and his three brothers in the house, Aleks had always been overlooked. He doubted they’d even noticed he was gone. They had the new baby to keep them occupied, after all.

  Before: The New Arrival

  He didn’t know how long he waited, but eventually Lara’s screams quietened, and his chest swelled at the sound of new screaming; infant screaming. The baby had been born. Hurrying to the stairs, he met Torell and Grigori on the way, all three brothers with matching grins on their faces. As the two older brothers pushed ahead of their sibling in the narrow stairway, Torell’s wife Nadeah followed at a more sedate pace, a hand on her rounded belly. Aleks wondered how she could sit and listen to Lara’s pain, knowing it would be her own in a few short months.

  Their parents were waiting outside the door to Maxim’s room when they reached the landing, both with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. ‘It’s a boy,’ their father declared proudly. ‘I have a grandson.’

  ‘Can we see him?’ Aleks asked hopeful
ly, making his mother laugh softly. She stepped aside.

  ‘Go on, but be quiet. Lara’s had quite a time of it, and I think they’ve just got the boy to settle.’

  Lara was propped up in bed, a bundle of blankets cradled in her arms and a radiant smile on her face. She was flushed, and her golden hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, but she still looked as beautiful as ever. Maxim was perched on the edge of the bed beside her, blue eyes glued to the bundle, oblivious to Dr Barsukov packing up his equipment. He glanced up for a second when his brothers entered, beaming at them. ‘Come closer, look!’ he urged quietly, beckoning them forward. Torell was first, of course, his arm around Nadeah as they both looked at the baby.

  ‘Oh, he’s beautiful!’ Nadeah gasped, awed. ‘Looks just like his father.’ Max grinned proudly, a hint of disbelief still in his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d created something so small and perfect. Peering over Grigori’s shoulder to get a look for himself, Aleks couldn’t believe it either; his brother’s sprog was adorable.

  ‘Well done, big brother,’ he said. ‘And well done, Lara. That didn’t sound easy.’ She laughed, smoothing down the wisp of white-blond hair on her son’s head.

  ‘I can’t say it was, but it was definitely worth it.’

  ‘So what’s he called, then?’ Torell urged, rocking on his feet with childlike excitement. Max and Lara shared a look, then turned back to their son.

  ‘Daniil,’ Maxim announced after a long pause. ‘Daniil Anton Vasin.’

  ‘A fine name for a fine boy,’ said their father approvingly, his arm around his wife’s shoulders. ‘Now, I think we should let Max and Lara rest. You can all hold the baby tomorrow.’

  Max and Lara had been trying for a baby for years, and had almost given up. Daniil was their little miracle child. For Torell too; he and Nadeah had waited, not wanting to upset the older couple by having children first, especially after Lara’s many miscarriages. Things were finally working out for everyone.

 

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