by TJ Muir
“Five silver,” Kip said.
Kirrin blinked, surprised by the amount. Then he swallowed his caution. “Fine.”
Kirrin learned a lot as he watched the fight. He saw a lot of moves he would have used himself. And he saw a handful of moves he never would have thought of. Things Kip and Duffy wouldn’t know or do, as they were both hefty guys with a good bit of muscle. They never had to think the way this other guy did. Kirrin found himself rooting for the man- cheering him on.
His faith earned him five silver. Kip swore when the bigger guy went down. But Duffy just laughed and clapped Kirrin on the back. “Lesson learned. Never underestimate your opponent based on size.”
It was late by the time the wagon pulled up at the barn. Kirrin was determined to stay awake the whole way even though he fought down several yawns. He hoped they would tell him he could sleep in but he wasn’t that lucky.
“Bright and early,” Kip said, sounding like he was enjoying the payback.
Kirrin nodded, fist over his mouth as he climbed down from the carriage. He really wanted to even the score with Kip.
SOFT BREAK
The next day, cook took one look at Kirrin and shook his head. “You look like a dead pile of douche. Go scrub the pots.”
It was probably better. Cooking required a sharp mind and paying attention to how much spice went into each dish, he wasn’t sure he could manage that without making any mistakes. “Sorry,” he mumbled, as he headed to the back room and the pile of pots.
But he was done early because he didn’t have any cooking to do. He left the kitchens, stopping long enough to wash off. Kip and Duffy would be expecting him for afternoon work, but he had a slot of extra time, and he wasn’t going to waste it.
He made sure he stayed out of sight as he slipped behind the barns, and onto the low roof of the carriage barn. It was warm out and he saw that the window was slightly open, curtain wafting slightly. He crept up the roof to the window, and peeked in. The room was empty as he expected.
He’d never actually been in Kip’s room before. He looked around, trying to get a sense of who the man was, but the room told him very little. There was a neatly made bed with a pile of clothes folded at the foot. Nothing underneath. The wooden chest at the foot held clothes and a few extra blankets.
Kirrin sighed, looking around. The desk wasn’t very interesting either. A book of maps, a history of Tatak Rhe, and a book on smithing. A picture of the city hung on the far wall. Kirrin stood in the middle of the room, trying to imagine where Kip might hide anything.
He went back to the desk, bending over to look underneath. The hairs on his neck prickled a split second before he felt something icy cold and sharp against his skin.
“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Kip said, holding a knife against Kirrin’s throat.
Chapter four
After four months on the So’har’s estate, Kirrin had gotten used to having more freedom and less parenting. But a knife at his throat scared him and he had made up an excuse, that his mother needed him back home. Now, in the middle of an argument that had no end, he was beginning to regret his decision.
“I don’t have to listen to him. He’s not--”
“Don’t say it! Not one. More. Word,” his mother said, cutting Kirrin off before he could finish the sentence. She had that look. The two of them stared at each other.
Kirrin recognized the ‘do not cross, line.’ His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. He couldn’t believe she was taking Perrin’s side. How could she? So what if he wasn’t keeping up with his studies. It wasn’t like he had any plans to use any of the useless junk they kept shoveling into his head.
He had always been able to weasel his way around his mother. But he knew she could also be firm. Perrin had no right to boss him around as though he were Kirrin’s father. Kirrin bristled again, thinking about it.
He saw her eyebrow raise slightly, as though reading his mind-- almost daring him to cross that line. There was a soft knock at the kitchen door, distracting both of them. A man coughed politely.
“Excuse me.”
His mother took a breath and let it out, collecting the temper that was about to blow. “May I help you?”
“Yes, Ma’am. It’s Hesper’s horse. It’s thrown a shoe and I‘ll be needing a blacksmith for a new one.”
“Okay,” she said, keeping one eye on Kirrin. “You’re Cullen, right?”
“Yes’m.”
“Kirrin--” She said, turning to face him.
He knew what was going to come next. She was about to order him around like he was one of the staff. He knew this was an important guest and he should fetch the blacksmith. Instead, he stormed out the door, slamming it behind him even though he knew the guests in the front might be able to hear. Served Perrin right.
He just wanted to get out of the city and clear his head. Why was everything getting so difficult and complicated? It was so simple when he was out on the estate. What was their problem all of a sudden? Couldn’t they see how well he was doing? He had a much better future assured if he could continue to impress the So’har.
On his way out the door, Kirrin almost ran into a man wearing a burgundy jacket with dark green trim. Kirrin recognized the So’hars colors, and thought he remembered the man from Hak’kars household.
“Esh’tan?” Kirrin said, as though it were a question.
The man nodded, sniffing slightly, as he reached into his jacket.
Kirrin tried not to roll his eyes. Why was everyone always trying to show how much better they were?
Without saying a word, Esh’tan handed a small envelope to Kirrin and then turned and left.
As he walked away, Kirrin rolled his eyes, scoffing at the man’s arrogance. Then he turned his attention to the note, looking over his shoulder quickly and walking away from the door.
Our staff provided good report of your work, particularly noting your cleverness and determination. There is a formal function two days after the full moons. If you can gain entry without getting discovered and removed, we will be impressed by your resourcefulness. Do you think you can deliver evidence of your attendance?
Kirrin read the note several times. It didn’t say much and revealed nothing about why. The So’har wanted him to crash a formal party, a function. Was he just trying to see how much of a fool Kirrin could make of himself?
How hard could it be? To sneak into a party. He finally gave up trying to puzzle it out and headed to the east terrace, where Eben lived. He could see the smaller boy hunched over his desk, scribbling away. A few pebbles tossed at the window got Eben’s attention.
Eben looked up and waved at Kirrin, smiling. He turned to look over his shoulder before getting up to open the window. “What’s up?” he asked, voice low.
“Come on,” Kirrin said. “Let’s go out. Go check out the harbor or something?”
Eben looked uncertain, glancing back towards his desk.
“What are you working on?”
Eben shrugged. “Just some homework. It’s about the history of Tatak Rhe, on the rise of the So’har in the city. Dumb stuff.”
Kirrin rolled his eyes, and then brightened. “Hey, tell your mom you’re going to the archives to do some research. That should work.”
“And what’s she going to say when I don’t have anything later?”
Kirrin shrugged. “Well, you could tell her you couldn’t find anything useful.”
“Yeah, right. Have you been to the archives? Ever? If you wanted to know about fleas, they’d have something, or how to build a whistle.”
Kirrin sighed. “Okay, then. We’ll go to the archives quick and grab something, and then we’ll go out and have some fun.”
Eben paused, hands still resting on the window sill. He glanced behind him again before straightening up. “Okay, I’ll try and see if she goes for it. But get out of here before she sees you.” And then he disappeared.
Kirrin waited around the corner, out of sight of the house-- and the neighbor’s house as
well. He knew Eben’s mother wasn’t thrilled with Kirrin as Eben’s new friend. What was her problem anyway? Kirrin wasn’t the one beating on her kid. In fact, Kirrin was the one looking after the scrawny kid. Kirrin thought she would be grateful, but instead she looked at Kirrin suspiciously.
Eben dashed around the corner, having escaped the boredom of his studies. Kirrin smiled, slapping him on the back. Eben looked up at him, triumphant. “I know if she could just get to know you better, she’d really like you.”
Kirrin shrugged. “It’s okay. She doesn’t have to know what you do all the time, right?”
Eben’s smile dimmed for a moment. Then he straightened up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I guess not.”
“I mean, parents just want to know where you are all the time and crap like that, to know you’re safe. But,” Kirrin said, clenching Eben’s shoulder slightly, “you are safe with me. I’ll look after you and make sure those kids don’t bother you.”
As if the gods had been listening, the two boys came out of a side alley and almost bumped into Aldon.
Kirrin and Aldon stood there, a few feet apart. Eben stopped, looking back and forth between the two of them.
Neither one spoke, neither one moved. Aldon was a year or so older than Kirrin, and bigger. And yet, Kirrin didn’t flinch. It was Aldon that looked worried. Kirrin stood his ground, almost hoping Aldon would provoke him. Kirrin tilted his head slightly, daring Aldon to say or do anything.
Aldon blinked, and looked away. He took a step backwards, moved to the side, and hurried off. Just fast enough to get away without looking like he was running away.
Eben stood there, mouth open. “Whoooooaaaaaa. That was awesome. That guy, he was huge. And you just stared him down. Oh wait,” he said, pausing. “Holy mohenjo! Was that the kid you whipped last year?”
Kirrin’s chest swelled with pride at the admiration in the boy’s eyes. “Yeah, that’s the guy. He used to beat me on a regular basis. He’ll never try that again, though.”
“Wow. I wish--”
“What?” Kirrin asked. “Wish what?” prodding Eben to finish the sentence.
Eben shrugged, looking unsure. “I wish I could do that with…”
“Yeah. I was just like you,” Kirrin said. “And then I learned to fight. Now, they don’t bother me anymore.”
Eben’s eyes were wide. “Could you teach me to fight?”
Kirrin smiled, putting his arm around Eben’s shoulders. “Yeah. I can teach you a little bit so you can blast those bullies that bother you.”
Instead of going to the archives, Kirrin and Eben wound up stairways and back alleys. Kirrin stopped in the market square to get a bag of candies for them to share, and then they went into the small park next to the square. There was a quiet spot, between one of the statues and some hedges.
Kirrin tossed his jacket on the grass, dropping the bag of candies on top. He nodded for Eben to do the same. “Now, you’re kinda small. But that’s okay. You can use that. And if they come after you, don’t even try to fight fair. It ain’t gonna be fair. When has it ever been fair, right?”
Eben nodded.
“So, first thing, look for a weapon. Second, let them think they got you cornered, and scared. Now, remember these points…”
Kirrin walked Eben through the same self-defense strategies Kip and Duffy had taught him. He even used most of their words. He had heard them so many times it was easy. He smiled, hearing himself sounding just like them.
Eben took it all in, practicing on Kirrin-- again and again-- until Kirrin was satisfied.
“Okay, that’s good for now,” Kirrin said, picking up his jacket and the candies. He held the bag out, offering some to Eben, and both boys chewed on candy.
Eben looked down at himself. “I’m a mess.”
Kirrin tussled his hair. “That you are, a right mess, but a tough one.”
Eben looked up at Kirrin and grinned, flexing his arm muscles in mock ferocity. They both laughed.
Then Eben gasped. “What am I gonna tell my mom? She thinks I was at the archives. How am I gonna explain the torn shirt and grass stains? And what about my homework?”
Kirrin watched as panic quickly replaced Eben’s momentary triumph. A friendly squeeze of the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it.”
“But what do I tell her?”
Kirrin sucked on his teeth for a moment, thinking. “I know. Tell her this. Tell her you were on your way to the archives, but you ran into some kids you know. They were going to play polarity and asked you to play.”
Eben shook his head, looking worried. “No. She’d never believe that. No one ever asks me to play.”
Kirrin recognized the look on Eben’s face. He knew that feeling of being left out all the time. He held the bag out, hoping to distract Eben. “Just tell her they were short a player, and they argued whether or not to let you play, but in the end they agreed. And tell her you did okay. Not great, but okay-- cuz-- because you’re fast. And if she says anything, just remind her that she wanted you to make more friends and fit in.”
Eben sighed. Kirrin knew his friend didn’t like the idea of lying.
“Or,” Kirrin said, “you could tell her the truth.”
“No way. She’d kill me. She’d never let me out of the house again. Ever.” Eben stood there, chewing on candy, for a few moments more. Then he slowly nodded. “Yeah. I guess a made up story might be better.”
“Sometimes it’s better when Mom’s don’t know everything. I mean, you’re almost a man now, right?”
Another slow nod, but Eben straightened up, standing a little taller. Then he looked up, toward the setting sun. “I better get going. She’s going to be wondering what happened to me. Or worse, she’ll send my dad out to look for me.”
They headed back through the alleys, parting ways as they got closer to their respective homes.
Kirrin went straight to the barns and did his evening chores. Cullen was walking out the horse. From the four beat clip clop sound, Kirrin guessed the blacksmith had replaced the shoe. Kirrin shrugged. The horse had been standing around for the better part of the week while Hesper was wined and dined by merchants in the city. Kirrin watched the horse for a moment- not as prized as the famed Tajynal horses, but a superb beast. Then he went to the shower and scrubbed himself clean, grabbing fresh clothes that he left by the shower now. He toweled his hair until it was mostly dry, and then headed toward the house. As he approached, he remembered the argument that started his day. He hoped his mother would be in a better mood now. He crept across the porch toward the door, hoping to get an idea of her mood.
He stood there for a little while, hearing nothing. That was strange. Then he heard the door between the kitchen and the front rooms open. And voices. His mother and Perrin.
“The boy needs a firm hand,” Perrin said.
Kirrin had no doubt who ‘the boy’ was.
“He just needs some time. It’s hard for him,” his mother said.
“Tattia, be honest. He’s out of control. He’s becoming disrespectful and rude.”
“It’s just his age. And it’s hard for him, now that the boys have grown up and left. That’s all it is.”
“That’s not all it is. He’s smart and clever. We both know that. But ever since he’s been going out to the So’har’s estate… I don’t know. He’s just-- changed.”
“He’s just growing up. Growing pains.”
“Growing pains didn’t break that boy’s arm in two places,” Perrin said. “Maybe he would benefit from being away. He could go and work with Fin for a while. It might be good for him, use his hands and his brain, and get out of the city for a bit.”
“I don’t know…” his mother said. Kirrin could hear the uncertainty in her voice. “I’m not sure I like the idea of sending him away though.”
“He’s seventeen,--not a baby anymore, Tatts.”
“I know that. But he’s my boy. I don’t want to lose him.”
Kirrin heard a slight edge in her voice,
even through the exhaustion and worry. He started to feel bad. Guilt. He was still angry at Perrin for bossing him around like he was a little kid-- like his own kid. But he didn’t want his mom to be sad or to worry about him, either.
Kirrin sighed. He hated feeling guilty. He just wished his mother could be happy for him. She was happy that Hak’kar-- a So’har-- had taken an interest in him. He wished he could find a way to make that work for him. He liked being out there. They treated him like an adult-- not a kid. He was learning so much. He just wished he could do something that showed his mother how great he was doing. A lack of bruises and broken bones didn’t seem to be enough for her anymore.
A loud crash made Kirrin jump. Perrin dropped a crate inside the door. Kirrin jumped backwards, over the rail. He didn’t want them to know he had been eavesdropping the whole time. He circled back toward the shower and made a second approach, toweling his head and making noise as he came up the steps.
