Not this again. Gib folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve spoken until I was blue in the face! What good could more talking do?”
The healer stood back to his full height. He was nothing but giving, listening to Gib’s answer and objecting about nothing. Gib didn’t know why but it frustrated him. Shouldn’t Nawaz have something sharp to say? Shouldn’t his eyes sparkle with mischief and delight as he proclaimed Gib a weakling and the dreams simply the young man’s overactive imagination? Shouldn’t Nawaz dismiss Gib as foolish?
“Death is no glamorous thing. It tends to haunt people who are inexperienced with it—”
“My parents are both dead. I have experience with it.” Gib flinched at the way his voice grated. He hadn’t meant to be so foul.
If Nawaz noticed he didn’t bring attention to it. The young lord continued to be gracious and took a seat in the sill opposite Gib. “You were there when they died? You felt to blame?”
Jittery, angry panic rose up within Gib’s guts. “I’m not to blame for the assassin! There wasn’t anything more I could do. The King said so—” He took a ragged breath. If that were true then why did he still shake at the thought of it?
Nawaz was on his feet and at Gib’s side before the sentinel trainee noticed the difference. Taking one knee, Nawaz looked Gib in the eye, and he flattened against the back of his chair.
The voice which was usually so crisp and full of humor was soft and crystal blue eyes were nonjudgmental. “The King is right, but do you realize that? Do you understand how fortunate you are to be alive? The assassin was a grown man, a trained killer, and you faced him alone. If not for you, the King would be dead.”
Gib flinched.
“Death is jarring. There was nothing pleasant about seeing that man’s broken body on the floor, but there was nothing to be done for him. With all of the King’s men there—the best trained soldiers in our entire land—there was nothing to be done. None of them were failures and neither are you.”
Gib’s mouth had gone dry and his eyes were so wide they hurt. He was distantly aware of Joel’s arm around his shoulders. Nawaz remained on his knee, not touching Gib, but still close.
The trainee’s heart pounded so hard he could scarcely hear his voice over it. “I was right there when he fell. I should have grabbed him or something. What if it had been Koal or Liro who fell?”
Joel squeezed Gib, whispering words of comfort into his hair. Nawaz shook his head vaguely. “No. Even if it had been Koal or Liro, if you had reached for them then you would have fallen. You’d be dead too. There was nothing you could do.”
A tear burned its way down Gib’s cheek. He jumped to wipe it away. Why did he have to feel like this? His head knew there was nothing more he could have done, but his heart—a sob broke free from within his throat and he buried his face in his hands.
“I–I have to be strong. Always. I have to care for Tayver and Calisto. They’re all I have left, but I couldn’t even protect someone I didn’t love. What would happen if one of my brothers were hurt? Or Liza?” He gasped for air, reeling for some purchase on the real world. “I couldn’t help Ma, I was too young. And Pa didn’t take me with him the day he died.” His anguish swelled into rage. “I should have been there! I could have helped him!”
Joel’s lips were still in Gib’s hair. “Oh, Gib, no—there are terrible things in the world. You can’t undo them all.” The mage trainee somehow squeezed in beside Gib on the chair and was holding him close. “You’re a hero, but no hero can save the world on his own.”
Gib fell against Joel and cried. The sentinel trainee couldn’t do anything else. A mark ago he hadn’t known he felt any of these things and now they were crushing and tearing him apart.
Nawaz patted Gib’s knee and said something to Joel about departing to allow them privacy. The young lord made mention of leaving something for Gib on the study desk. He couldn’t even look up, but he could hear Joel thanking Nawaz. The study door clicked shut so softly Gib was unsure he heard it over his sobs.
“Are you ready for this?” Joel’s words were a quiet hush in Gib’s ear. He did his best to nod and not think about what likely lay ahead for him.
Ascending the steps into Academy, Gib thought it was odd how the building looked so much smaller. When he’d first arrived in Silver, the architecture had astounded him into silence. Had he truly grown so accustomed to it already?
The halls were as busy as they ever had been, but he and Joel encountered no trouble navigating the corridors. Was it Gib’s imagination or were people parting for them? Were they whispering as well? The noise level had dropped to a low murmur. Gib was sure he wasn’t imagining it. People were staring and talking about him.
He met Joel’s icy blue eyes. “Don’t pay them any mind. Come with me.”
Gib’s heart hammered in his chest. “They’re watching us.”
The mage trainee kept his face down. “I know. Let’s get to our room.”
Gib’s nerves were wound so tight that when a hand grabbed his shoulder, he did the first thing that came to mind—he whirled on one heel, fist at the ready. He stopped only when he recognized the familiar hunter green eyes.
Kezra cocked a brow and smirked, voice dropping low. “Nice to see you’re in a fair mood, Nemesio.”
Gib breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I thought—”
Kezra shook her head, wild hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Nah. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.” She looked around at the multitude of students as they stared and raised her voice just enough to draw their attention. “If I were under such narrow examination I would have kicked an arse or two by now.”
At once people scuttled away, affording the three at least a small amount of breathing space. Tarquin and Nage were the only others who surfaced from the crowd and stayed close. Gib smiled, happy to see them all.
Joel cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should make to our room.” The mage trainee bowed modestly to Gib’s companions. “Civil company, of course, would be welcome.”
Nage and Tarquin shared a half smile before the Nessuno admitted, “I’m not sure how civil our company is, but we’ll try.”
Inside the dorm, with the door left slightly ajar—to avoid speculation about their female companion—the friends took various seats and a comfortable quiet settled. Gib didn’t know what to say and none of them seemed to be pushing. So it went for a time.
Finally, from his seat at the foot of Gib’s cot, Nage turned and asked, “Hey, you hear anything from Diddy? You think he’s gonna come back to class?”
Gib caught Joel’s expectant look. Shifting in the seat, the sentinel trainee reached for his rucksack and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. “I, uh, I got a letter from him. Nawaz dropped it off to me.”
“Well, are you gonna read it? Or at least tell us what it says?” asked Nage.
Gib stiffened. He could, but he didn’t want to. Despite his mending heart and the support of his friends, he just couldn’t summon the will to fumble over the eloquent words right now. He searched around, imploring mercy from someone, anyone. He heard Joel shift on his own bed, but Kezra had already risen and crossed the room to stand before him. She held out a hand.
“I’ll do it, if you want.”
Gib could barely meet her eyes. “Thanks. I’m just—tired.”
She nodded but offered nothing more as her eyes fell over the script. After reading it first to herself, she cleared her throat and spoke aloud for the rest of them.
“Dearest friend Gibben,
I hope this letter finds you well. Proper words cannot express my gratitude for your actions three nights past. You are a hero for the entire country, my friend, as I’m sure you have been told countless times. I must thank you from the heart of a son. Thank you for saving my father. You risked your life so that he may live and I will forever be at your call, for anything you may need.
I wish also to bid a farewell to you and the others—Tarquin, Kezra, and Nage. I will not b
e allowed to attend class again. Mother fears for my safety and, for once, I agree with her. Father is likewise grudgingly admitting defeat. He is displeased with having to ‘cage’ me but insists he must do whatever it takes to ensure the family’s safety.
I miss all of you dearly. Thank you for accepting me as myself and not merely a prince. You may never know what that has meant to me.
Lastly, I wish to settle an account with you on behalf of Queen Dahlia Adelwijn of Arden. She declares you a hero, not only of Silver City, but of all of Arden. As such, she would implore you to take a gift of our gratitude—anything you may need or desire. I know it is not in your nature to accept such a reward, but she feels you deserve it. You do deserve it. Please let us know what you would consider payment for your services and understand that nothing you could ask for would ever be enough to express our gratitude.
Sincerely, Prince Didier Adelwijn of Arden”
Kezra’s wistful smile let Gib know she was touched. Everyone else had fallen silent. Nage and Tarquin each blinked in disbelief.
“Well, what are you going to ask for?” Nage pressed.
“I don’t know.” Gib took a deep breath and tried to calm the rushing in his ears. “I can’t take something from the royal family! I only did what anyone would do, and it’s not like I saved the King completely. He still got shot. I can’t ask for a prize—”
Joel lifted his hands with an exasperated groan. “For the love of The Two, Gib, you’re being too modest!”
Kezra snorted as she handed the letter back to Gib. “Right. If not for you, the King would be dead. I’d say you’ve earned something—especially if they’re offering.”
Gib tucked the parchment away. “No. A good deed doesn’t require repayment. It was hardly a good deed anyway. I didn’t have time to think. I just acted.”
Tarquin pointed. “You acted and could have died. Not everyone would choose to act the way you did. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I don’t know.” Gib folded his arms over his chest and looked at his feet. “What would I ask for anyway? A riding cloak and new clothes for the boys? The Queen would laugh at me. There isn’t anything else I need.”
Uncomfortable silence blossomed and Gib was determined to keep his eyes down. No one was saying anything, but he was sure they were all thinking the same thing. I’m a poor farmer with nothing. What else do I need? Everything. But I won’t ask for it. I can’t.
Kezra cleared her throat. “It’s a damn long walk back to Willowdale.” She put her fists on her hips and gave him a sly look. “Ask for a horse, you fool.”
A lump settled in Gib’s stomach. A horse? He could use a horse. But how would he feed it? He’d never had one before and though Liza’s had seemed to be easily cared for, he had no firsthand experience. His family had never been well off enough to afford their own. He swallowed. It would be nice not to have to walk back to Willowdale. “I suppose I could—”
Nage clapped his hands together. “You’re damned right you could. Your own horse, Gib! What would your brothers say to that?” He laughed.
Gib smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. Some of the weight finally lifted from his chest. He could breathe again. He could see his brothers now, especially little Calisto. Their eyes would shine with wonder and their chests would puff out when they could brag their brother was one of the only farming men in Willowdale to own a horse.
“No one will ever believe how I came to have it,” Gib heard himself say. “I’ll have to tell the neighbors I found it and nursed it back to health or something.”
Joel laughed. “Nonsense. The Queen herself will most likely write a scroll for you. If anyone should question your ownership, you will have the royal seal to say otherwise.” He paused before lowering his voice, a blush dusting his fair cheeks. “Then they’ll know you for the hero you are.”
Gib shook his head. Nothing felt real anymore, yet it somehow was perfectly real. He chuckled. “I suppose a horse is all fine and good, but maybe the Queen could gift me something to keep everyone from staring at me in the halls and whispering behind my back.”
His friends laughed at that. Tarquin waved a hand. “I don’t think you have to worry too much. Kezra will protect you.”
Nage nodded. “Right. No one is scarier than her.”
Another round of laughter. Kezra only grinned. Gib found himself smiling too as he enjoyed a deep, refreshing breath of air. The nightmares would soon pass. He didn’t know how or why, but everything was going to be all right.
Gib sighed as he folded the last tunic and placed it into his rucksack. The bedding had already been stripped from his mattress and placed into a bin for the servants to collect, and everything else that wasn’t a personal belonging had been removed from the chamber earlier in the day. As Gib looked around the empty dormitory room, the realization that he was leaving struck him hard in the chest.
It was difficult to believe the school year was at an end, and in a few short marks, he would be on his way to Willowdale—home. The sentinel trainee’s stomach churned. He’d been away from his brothers for so many moonturns he was almost afraid to see them again. Had they grown as much as he had? Would he even recognize them—and would they recognize him? Gib certainly didn’t feel like the same shy, oblivious boy who had walked into this very room for the first time six moonturns prior. Would he be viewed as a completely different person to Tayver and Calisto as well?
The events of the past half-year had changed him. When he’d arrived he hadn’t known anyone, and his only goal had been to live long enough to go back to the farm. But then he’d met Nage, Tarquin, Kezra, and Diddy. Each of them had played a vital part in his growth. He’d learned so much from them all and their diverse circumstances.
Gib had said his goodbyes to each of his friends earlier. Tarquin tried his best at stoicism while Nage and Kezra had given Gib nothing but grins and thumps on the back. He would see all of them when the new academic year began, and in time, the four of them would earn their shields and swords together.
Gib’s heart hurt when his thoughts brought him to the farm. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it. He’d been raised there and all his childhood memories were tied to that place—but after being in this grand city and meeting so many new and intriguing people, Gib didn’t know if he could go back to existing as he once had. He’d met royalty and politicians. Some of them had even surprised him with their kind souls and generosity. He’d seen some of the finest events the country had to offer, attended the Aithne Ball, eaten at the seneschal’s dinner table over Midwinter, and trained in the royal palace. He’d met Joel—
Gib’s face blushed so hot it hurt. I’m going to miss him the most.
Joel cleared his throat from across the room just then. The mage trainee’s possessions were stacked neatly beside him on the bed, but he hadn’t packed anything yet. He’d been withdrawn all day, and Gib had a pretty good inkling as to why.
Gib set his rucksack aside and crossed the room. Without a single word, he sat down next to the older boy, placing an arm around Joel’s shoulders. If he needed support, Gib would sit there until Joel could admit to it.
Joel didn’t immediately respond; at first, the mage trainee chose to stare out the open window, his eyes lost and brimming with emotion. A moment of silence passed between the two roommates as they seemed to contemplate what the other might be thinking. At last, Joel’s shoulders lost some of their rigidity and he leaned his body against Gib’s.
“Must you leave?” The words were breathless and pained.
Gib winced as he stroked his palm against the older boy’s soft hair. “You know I have to.”
Joel raised his face long enough to cast a forlorn smile in his companion’s direction. “You could stay at the Adelwijn estate for the summer. I know Father wouldn’t mind, and Mother would be more than thrilled to accommodate you—”
Gib shook his head. “I can’t do that, as much as I want to. I have to go see my brothe
rs, Joel. They need me.”
The mage trainee whimpered deep in his throat. “I need you too.”
Gib took hold of Joel’s hands, squeezing them desperately, trying to make him realize how difficult all of this was. “I know what you mean, but it will only be for a few moonturns, I promise. I need to figure out what to do with the farm—and my brothers. And then I’ll be back.”
Joel gave a weak nod, sitting up a little taller. “I understand. You do need to go. I would do the same for any of my siblings. It was selfish of me to ask you to stay, but I just—it will be hard not to see you every day.”
“I’ll think of you more than is probably good for me,” Gib replied with a light chuckle. “And I’m sure Tay and Cal will be sick of hearing your name by the time the summer is through.”
The mage trainee issued a strained laugh. The sound made Gib’s heart jump in his chest. I’m going to miss hearing that laughter more than I yet realize.
Gib pressed on, determined not to break down. It had been hard enough to say goodbye to his friends earlier. He wasn’t sure how he was going to bid farewell to Joel. “We can be roommates again when the new semester begins—if you want to, that is.”
“I would like that very much.” A smile stretched across the older boy’s face as he leaned closer. His voice lowered to a soft whisper. “Will you promise not to forget about me, Gibben Nemesio?”
“Never in a million moonturns could I forget you. That’s not even possible.”
A tear slipped down Joel’s fair cheek. “I love you.”
Gib wrapped his arms around the other boy, pulling him close, reveling in the warmth their bodies shared and knowing how much it would be missed. Daya, give me strength. A single sob escaped Gib’s lips, even as he felt Joel break down in silent tears of his own.
“I love you too, Joel Adelwijn. I love you with everything I am.”
They shared a tender kiss, both knowing it would be their last for quite some time—but despite that knowledge, they also understood everything was going to be all right. The strangest of circumstances had brought them together, and neither time nor fate would ever pull them apart now that they’d found themselves in one another’s arms.
A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden Page 32
