The Sons of Satrina: A Sons of Satrina Novel
Page 4
So, what did he go and do? Made like Denver and strutted into class as if he were the king of the world. Jase, Dylan and Trey seemed to follow his lead and swaggered their way over to the benches that were lined against the wall, taking their time and flexing their muscles. There was something about the first class that made them all want to turn into the big man; proving before they had even started that they were the biggest, baddest, toughest thing out there.
That was until Master Warrior Kelton walked into the room and then the whole class shrunk back to size. They couldn’t compare to him in the slightest. Kelton was already in his fighting and physical prime, appearing to be in his late twenties and buff as hell. This bunch of teenage nobodies were no match for him.
“Quieten it down in here, boys.” Kelton made sure to put an emphasis on the word ‘boys’, putting them firmly in their place. Even though in their minds they thought they were all grown up, in this world they were still children. They entered the Academy at age eighteen and would graduate in three to four years. Even then, they would not be ‘men’ until they proved their worth. Kelton may only appear to be twenty-eight-ish, but he was decades older and he had the wisdom and knowledge to carry himself with arrogance and confidence that the young guys could only wish for.
Kelton was used to dealing with unruly, rebellious, over-confident, enthusiastic rabbles. This was nothing new for him. He had been a warrior for countless decades and over recent years, he had become the head of the Sons of Satrina training Academy. He had taken over when Bartholomew had retired to oversee the safety of the community from a less hostile environment. Kelton still went out into the field regularly, as he had a destiny to fulfil. He split his time between teaching and fighting and found each as equally as rewarding as the other.
The guys all sat a little straighter and paid a little more attention. They were ready to battle it out for the position of the best in the class. Kelton turned his back to the group and grinned to himself. He was thinking back to the time all those years ago when he’d been a cocky trainee himself.
When Kelton had been younger it had been their leader, Bartholomew, who had taken a personal interest in the trainees of the day. Kelton could clearly remember their leader knocking him on his ass in his very first combat class. Cockiness didn’t get you anywhere in this place and Kelton had found that out the hard way. As would these new recruits. Kelton had learned plenty of tricks from his predecessor.
He had been taught by the best and had become even better. All of the boys in the class knew that they were in for a tough time with him, but that it would be worth it in the end. No one could teach combat like Master Warrior Kelton.
“Right then.” he said as he stood before the newbie’s. “I am Master Warrior Kelton. You can call me Sir until you have earned the right to call me by my name. This, for some of you, will never happen. In addition, so you know from the very start, just because you have been born with the mark, it does not automatically mean that you will become warrior. It takes time. It takes effort. It takes hard work and dedication. And, it takes loyalty. This whole life is not a given right. It is a privilege that you have to earn.”
Most of them sat in rapt silence. All except for Denver. He really didn’t know when to keep his big mouth shut. You would have thought that a person with even half a brain cell rattling around in their skull would have known better. Clearly, Denver was that dumb. “Sure. You know what they say, those who can’t do, teach.” he muttered with a snigger.
Not one of the guys cracked a smile. They all shifted their gaze to him, unable to believe the fucktarded remark he’d made. It wouldn’t have ever crossed their minds to disrespect a legend like Kelton. The guy was unreal and incredibly stupid.
Moreover, for Denver’s bad luck, Kelton had heard every word he’d uttered.
“You think that just because I am here teaching that I am no longer a warrior? That I am not tough enough? That I don’t have what it takes? That I’ve lost it?” His tone was more than enough to put his point across. The look in his eyes screamed barely restrained anger.
This was certainly not how Kelton had expected this new teaching year to start out. He was used to arrogant little boys coming in here thinking that they were the Big I Am. No one had dared to disrespect him like this. There was no way he was going to allow a jumped up little piece of shit talk to him that way. He’d been out there, on the field, doing his duty while this little snot rag was still in nappies.
He was fuming mad.
“I’m waiting boy.”
There was a stone cold silence enveloping the sparring room as everyone waited to see what would happen next. They all knew that Denver had crossed the line and that Kelton was a time bomb waiting to explode. With morbid excitement, they were on the edges of their seats.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Denver sounded like a petulant five year old that had been caught out. There was no way that Denver wanted to back down in front of the rest of the recruits, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to try and take Kelton on. He talked smack but had no way to back it up when it came to someone with Kelton’s experience. This was one of the first times that his bravado had gotten him into trouble. He wasn’t sure how he was going to talk his way out of this one.
“You know what? I don’t think I even want to waste my time trying to work out what you meant by that dim-witted comment.” Kelton turned back to the class and started to reach for the stash of weapons that were stacked up next to him in a box. The whole class gasped in unison, fearing what he was going to do.
“Get out of my class. Right now. I’ll deal with you later.”
Jackson turned to watch Denver skulk out of the room. He couldn’t help but smile to himself. This place was getting better by the minute in his opinion. First of all, he was sat in a class being taught by a master of his trade. Secondly, Denver had just been knocked off his perch. That just had to be the icing on the cake.
“Now, I hope that the rest of you can show a little respect and dedication to this course. Because, if you can’t I am politely asking you to leave now. I refuse to waste my time and energy on people who do not take the role of the warrior seriously.” Kelton glared around the room at the rest of the group. He found only eager faces, ready to learn.
“Now, who can tell me what this is and what this seal represents?” Kelton said as he held up a small, ornately carved dagger and started on with the lesson, ‘An Introduction to Weaponry’.
After about two hours of going through only a small selection of weapons, a loud rapid-fire knock reverberated on the door of the room. Without taking his attention off the Kimber Solo CDP Laser 9mm Grip that was in his hand, Kelton called out, “Yes?”
The door swung open and a woman with flowing rich auburn hair and a figure that deserved to be on a playboy centrefold came rushing into the room.
Stopping for a moment to catch her breath and gather her composure, she heaved in a shuddering breath and walked over to where Kelton was still perched on the edge of his desk. This was going to be one of the hardest things that she’d ever had to do.
All of the young men in the room stared at her in appreciative fascination. She moved with such speed and grace that her mere presence commanded their rapt attention. However, Kayleigh didn’t even bat an eyelid in their direction. They simply didn’t register on her radar. Focused, she waited patiently in front of Kelton.
She knew him well enough to give him a minute to make sure that the gun he’d been handling was safe. Anyway, she needed his full attention to tell him what she had just found out.
“Kayleigh? Is everything okay? What’s going on?” he said in a low voice. Kelton knew that something must have been up for her to come in and interrupt his lesson. He wasn’t annoyed by her presence, but he was immediately concerned.
“Kelton. I need to speak to you. Somewhere a little quieter, perhaps?” she replied in a hushed voice with a glance around at the group gathered. “And private.” she nodded slightly
to acknowledge their audience.
Kelton nodded and gently put a hand on the small of her back, steering her out into the deserted corridor.
In any other situation, the guys in the room would have whooped it up. It was pretty damn obvious from the intimate touch and the way that the two of them interacted that there was something going on between them. However, even the guys could sense that there was something seriously afoot and remained respectfully quiet.
As soon as the door had shut, a hushed murmur had rolled around the recruits. Each of them wondered what was going on, who she was, if they really were together and congratulating Kelton on his good fortune at pulling such a stunner if they were.
However, on the other side of the door, it was a completely different matter.
“What’s up, Leigh. Talk to me.” Kelton’s voice was full of concern. He stepped closer to put a comforting hand on her hip.
“Oh, Kelton. I don’t know how to tell you this. I just can’t believe it’s happened. It’s just so wrong.” A sob escaped her throat as she tried to fight the emotion that was building within her. “Kelton, Oh Kelton.” She laid a hand on his arm, trying to absorb some of his strength.
“What is it?”
“It’s Bartholomew.”
Kelton felt like his blood had turned to ice and his eyes became as motionless as a shark. “What about him.”
“He’s dead.”
Chapter Five.
“Kelton? Did you hear me?” Kayleigh laid a gentle hand on his arm again.
Abruptly, he backed away from her. His eyes had not yet returned to their usual pool of shimmering emerald green. The deadly, dangerous black rage remained in full force.
“No.” he growled.
Kayleigh knew him well enough to stand back and let him process it in his own way. In his own time. There was no sense in pushing him. If she got too close, he would never forgive himself if he hurt her, even not in his right mind. She couldn’t do that to him. This rage that he was feeling was pulling from deep down in his soul and he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions. The warrior in him was calling for immediate revenge.
“No!” he roared and turned to punch the wall. The plaster crumbled under his raw anger.
The classroom door behind them opened up just a crack and Kayleigh quickly turned and said in a voice that was quiet but laced with stern authority, “Please, stay in the classroom. Someone will be in with you shortly.” The door clicked shut quickly and without argument. Anyone with half a brain could see that this was not a good time to interrupt.
“What happened? When did this happen?” Kelton’s voice sounded barely recognisable, simply the angry growl of an emotionally wounded soldier.
“It happened just before dawn. It was the Mortuorum. They left their mark all over the place. It was a total mess. Not a single survivor.”
The silence echoed through the empty corridor.
This was the worst thing that could happen to them all as a race. Their leader had been assassinated. Who knew what would happen now? The only thing that was clear in Kelton’s mind was that his death needed to be avenged, and soon. His warrior sense roared to the surface, blinding him to reason.
He couldn’t believe that Bartholomew was gone.
Bartholomew had been the father that he had never known. His mother had raised him all alone. Kelton’s father had been a warrior before him and he had grown up knowing that he would be stepping into his shoes one day. He had always had so much to live up to. Growing up, he had missed the male role model that his father would have provided. Bartholomew had filled that gaping hole in his life.
When he had first come to the Academy as a trainee, Bartholomew was still playing an active role in fighting in the war against the Mortuorum. This was before he had taken a back seat to rule behind a desk as opposed to behind a sword. Up until meeting Kelton, there had never been anyone who he trusted to take over leading the fight. Apparently, he had seen something in Kelton. The strength in him had been so strong from the first moment he had set eyes on him. That was why Bartholomew had worked him to the bone, building him into the greatest warrior in Lamia history.
He owed everything to Bartholomew.
Not that Kelton had understood any of that at the time. All he knew back then was that he had been picked on mercilessly by their leader from the very start. He didn’t realise that he was testing him from the moment he stepped foot in the Academy. Testing his strength, his resolve and his loyalty.
Bartholomew had been more than a leader or a teacher to Kelton. He was family.
Bartholomew had taken him from a cocky teenager with no respect and had moulded him into the determined killing machine that he was today. One with intelligence, loyalty and compassion.
And now he was gone.
Kelton brushed a hand through his bristly, short hair and closed his eyes.
He couldn’t fall apart now.
Bartholomew would have expected better from him.
He had to fight.
Chapter Six.
“Man, whatever’s happening out there, it doesn’t sound so good.” Trey Masterson said after he had carefully closed the door.
Trey towered over the rest of the newbie’s, but his size didn’t represent his nature. He was like a giant teddy bear. He was one of those guys who sometimes don’t realise the size that he was. Sort of like a Great Dane thinking that he was the size of a little Cocker Spaniel. Trey was the whole package – strength, intelligence, skill, sense, determination, compassion, all mixed in with a little rebellion. He was the perfect recipe for a warrior of worth.
Sitting back down, he had to squeeze his huge frame into the average sized plastic blue chair. Running a hand through his short, spiky golden blonde hair, Trey turned his questioning gaze on the others.
“Well, day one and we’ve seen the Great Warrior Kelton lose the plot already.” Denver sneered.
The rest of the guys turned to glare at him, unable to believe the amount of stupidity that could spew forth from his mouth on occasion. Kelton had been decent enough to give him a second chance at being taught by him, and the kid just didn’t learn.
“What?!” Denver smirked, shrugging his shoulders in mock innocence. He really didn’t care, either.
In unison, the rest of them shook their heads at him and turned to sit back down at their desks, turning away from him. Whatever was happening was big and most of them knew better than to try and get involved. They were old enough to understand that this was serious. If it was something that they needed to know about, they’d be told. They weren’t kids, but this didn’t stop them discussing it quietly.
“What do you think is going on?” Trey asked the others, just in case they had heard something that he hadn’t.
“Not a clue, man. Not a clue.”
They all sat in silence as there wasn’t anything else that they could really do. Until the door broke open again and Kayleigh re-entered the room, looking very tense.
“Master Warrior Kelton sends you all his apologies. Something unavoidable has cropped up and he has had to deal with it personally. As we have no other warriors available to teach the class at this time, I have been asked to advise you that the rest of the lesson has been postponed. You should use this time to orientate yourself with the school, retrace your steps from yesterday and familiarise yourself with your surroundings.
“At the moment, the rest of your lessons should continue as planned but please be warned that they may also change at short notice. This is a very unique situation that we are dealing with here and we ask you all to bear with us. Thank you.”
And before anyone could comment or ask any questions, Kayleigh had scooped up the box of weapons and quickly swept out of the room, her long black skirt chasing after her, the door closing again before anyone could draw a breath.
Denver was obviously the first one up and out of his seat, muttering under his breath “I’ll bear with her alright.” with a suggestive leer as he strolled ou
t of the classroom without so much as a backwards glance, a vapid grin plastered in place. Not that any of the others bothered to take much notice of him. Well, that was except for Lewis Doaves, who seemed to be taking up the unenviable position of his lap dog. He ran after him, slipping out of the door before it could click shut.
Jackson felt sorry for Lewis. At their age, most of them had discovered who they were, or at least had an idea of who they wanted to be. But Lewis was stuck in the unenviable position of being Denver’s sidekick. The pair of them seemed to have reverted back to their high school roles, which to Jackson thought just highlighted their maturity levels.
The rest of them sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, just looking at each other. It must be big, whatever was happening. They now had to decide what to do with themselves next.
Jackson didn’t like the whole feeling of the situation. It felt like something really huge was going down. It made him squirm in his skin.
Full of nervous energy, he quickly made up his mind to head down to the gym to work out for a bit. He didn’t have anything else to do. After all, the term had only just started so it wasn’t like they were drowning under the pressure of work. There was no point in wandering aimlessly around the school and there was nothing wrong with trying to stay at his physical peak. The exercise might do him some good anyway and work off some of this tension that he was feeling.
Grabbing his bag, he gave a little nod over to the guys and Trey, Dylan Stott and Jase quickly followed suit and filed out into the corridor.
“What if this is some kind of test? To see what we’d do without their leadership?” Dylan whispered.
“No. No, something’s happening. Something really big is going on here.” Jackson’s voice was full of concern.
No one said another word as they walked down through the building and towards the gym. They all remained in silence as they went into the changing room and got kitted out in their work out gear.