Chapter Thirty

 

 

“Faster,” Av called out, watching the children go through the motions.

They were tired, he was irritated.

“Faster,” he snapped. “That means go faster.”

Mie's stick slipped, catching Anue on the arm. The boy didn't know the strength needed to take on another rank, let alone another warrior. He was strong, too, building skills and preparing his body for the changes that would take place as he became a man.

The girl cried out, the warrior spun on Av, meaning to attack the bigger form because a sister was in pain. Mie's instincts were waking already, something their father said might happen, with training around a queen.

The reason ranks didn't seem to be ranks until they were almost adults was because they didn't run into those emotions until that time. Not around commoners, anyhow. Mie was training with a queen who he had claimed as a sister, and that meant that any time the boy smacked the girl, Av had to tussle with Mie.

Not because Mie blamed him for Anue's pain, but because Av was larger, and might hurt Anue more.

Anue keened from the ground, holding her arm. Mie dropped his stick, going deathly pale. Av swore, calling out for his father as he moved towards his little brother.

Suddenly all tooth and fingernail, Mie lashed out at Av, trying to destroy a threat. The boy bit into Av's shoulder, making him shout, causing red to colour his vision. Av had training to fight those urges, but he still pried Mie off and threw the boy across the yard, bellowing his anger and his pain.

Only to be hit by a wall of magic a moment later.

Anue was on the ground, still clutching herself but focused on Mie's limp form. All emotion had drained from the girl. Those large eyes turned ever so slowly to Av and he knew he was in for the fight of his life when they locked on him. The queen should have been down from the pain, obviously her arm was damaged—possibly fractured given the sounds she had been making moments before—but that didn't matter as she stood. Her good hand picked up the stick.

Av swore again.

His father blew past him, catching the girl across the face with the back of his hand.

“What are you doing?” Av shouted.

The trainer shifted towards Av, daring him to challenge him. Av backed away, because he wasn't entirely certain what a trainer could actually do to a warrior. All he knew was that history taught that warriors feared and revered trainers.

Mie groaned from across the yard, sitting up slowly.

“You'll be fine,” Ervam said to his younger son. “Av's the one that tossed you, you'll be fine.”

“What happened?” Mie groaned, standing with difficulty.

“You clipped Anue. Jer's on his way to get the healer. Anue, on your feet.”

The girl stood but was in tears. Mie approached the trainer, wary. Even the young boy knew that this was a time to fear his father.

“What's going on?” Mie asked.

“You clipped Anue,” Ervam said. “Made her feel pain, damaged her.”

“I'm sorry, Anue!” Mie said, rushing towards the queen to latch on to her.

“Mie,” Ervam growled. The trainer waited for the two to separate. “You hurt her. When she was in pain, she made a sound that made you react. Av knew something was going on, but not what, so he stepped forward to engage you. If he hadn't engaged you, Mie, you might be damaged in a different way.”

“Av threw Mie,” Anue said to Ervam.

“He did, which is the best thing to do with a young warrior. Two warriors, when they get that sort of riled, can't really hurt one another. Jer and Av used to put each other through my woodpile, barely a scratch on them, and they were none-too-gentle about it.

“You, little queen, reacted to someone you've claimed being tossed, and you were about to rage. So what did I do?”

“You hit me!” Anue shouted.

“I did. Do you know why?” Ervam demanded.

Anue faltered, knowing that this was one of those lessons, but not understanding it. From her view, adults should never hit children.

“No,” Anue said finally.

“There are only a couple of options when a queen goes into a rage. The object of her rage, this one being Av, is obliterated; the victim, Mie, arriving well and good; or someone stepping in and causing you pain. Now, I could have let Av have a go at you, but there wouldn't have been much left of you when he was done.”

Av shuddered and turned away from the children as an image burned in his mind. He wanted to gag, even as he fought the instinct to act on his sudden desire to draw blood. Being away from Aren yet knowing where she was had its good days and its bad days.

Today was a bad day.

“Why did you hit me, then?” Anue asked.

Av forced himself to turn back, to focus on the ground by Anue's feet.

“Because a trainer, much like a healer, can cause pain to any of the ranks. If Av, there, takes to the fields, which is like a queen's rage, there are really only two people who can cause him pain: his master, or a trainer. The same is true for queens. Except queens don't typically have masters.”

“You said Av could do it,” Anue said quietly.

“Av could do it but with great difficulty,” Ervam said gently. “When you reach eighteen, come back to me and I will explain exactly what he would have to do to bring you back from the brink, and Anue, you were not yet on the brink. One strike versus what he'd have to do, just trust me for now, it was the better option.”

“You didn't have to hit me,” Anue said.

“Can you feel that arm yet?” Ervam asked.

Anue frowned and looked at her arm, then back up at the trainer. “What's wrong with my arm?”

“It's broken,” Ervam said through gritted teeth.

“Shouldn't I feel it if it's broken?” Anue asked, confusion playing over her face.

“That's my point, little queen.”

Anue went a funny sort of colour and sank to the snow. Ervam turned to Av and gave him a pointed look, which Av responded to with a questioning look and his hands in the air. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Ervam pressed his lips into a thin line and jabbed his head towards the children, as if that made any sense whatsoever to Av. This was all new to him as well, because Av had never heard of a queen not feeling pain.

Wait, he had. Aren hadn't felt pain; she had fought through it. She had bled later on, but still hadn't felt pain.

Av approached his father and lowered his voice as he asked, “What do I do if I think a queen is riding that edge and incapable of feeling pain?”

“I'll give her a smack the next time I see her, just to be sure,” Ervam said steadily in response.

Av had to fight his emotions because someone was threatening his woman. Fight it he did, and almost won against the emotion.

“I'm serious,” Av said.

“A queen like that can't feel anything,” Ervam said. “Though some say they can feel the strongest of emotions, can still feel bodily pleasure.”

“Ow,” Anue groaned.

“Broken arm,” Ervam said to Av.

“What am I supposed to do about it?” Av growled.

“Be a warrior,” Ervam said, challenging Av with a toothy grin.

Av frowned at his father, but moved past to kneel by Anue. The girl was in tears, cradling her arm.

Beneath his knees, the snow was cold. The air around Anue was crackling with a dangerous sort of magic, the girl's instincts coming to life in order to protect herself. Av doubted even the best healer could reach through that crackle to get her magic to work on Anue's body.

“Healer's on her way,” Av said to Anue. “Do you remember her? From the village? She's quite good. Not great, can't fix the bone, but she can speed the recovery and bring something to numb the pain.”

“Can't give a queen that sort of thing,” Ervam said.

“What do you mean can't?” Av asked, turning to his father.

“Magic takes control,” Anue said with a sniff. “If I take anything and my control slips...”

“You're not that special,” Av growled at Anue. “Special, granted, but not enough to melt the entire world into a puddle. Plenty of queens drink.”

“There's a reason why they don't drink often,” Ervam said.

“Then now's a good time for Anue to learn,” Av said sternly to his father. “She's a girl.”

“She's a queen, Av, a strong one who's already awoken to her magic.”

“What are you afraid of? There's not a bad bone in her body,” Av snapped.

“When one queen dies, her magic remains in the land until it's replaced with another one's magic,” Ervam growled.

Av was off the ground and standing toe-to-toe with his father in an instant. “She is an eleven-year-old girl who is in pain. You don't get to put your grief and your desire to keep your dead mate close before her comfort. She matters. Mother is dead, has been for over a decade. So you don't get to stand there and tell me that she's more important than a living, breathing girl.”

“It's all I have left of her, Av.”

“Your grief be damned,” Av snarled.

Behind him, Av was dimly aware of Mie speaking to Anue. He saw, out the corner of his eye, the two children headed for the house, leaving the adults to bicker in the yard.

Which was fine by Av. He hadn't had a good fight in a while and his father wasn't backing down. This was something to stand for, something he had a right to fight for and no one would question that right.

“This is my land, I decide what magic stays,” Ervam said.

“No, you decide which queen lives on it, but when you took her in, you knew what might happen. When you started training her, you knew this might happen.”

“It's all I have left.”

“Maybe if you let it go, you can let her go,” Av said.

“I don't ever want to let her go, Av, she was my mate. She was your mother. How could you say that she should just vanish as if nothing she did ever mattered?”

“How can you want to make a little girl suffer pain for weeks on end, just so that you can put off your grief a little while longer?” Av asked.

“It's my land.”

“But it's not your decision.”