Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 19: Rivalry Revisited (Part 1)

Before the sun had a chance to rise, Chris abandoned his unsuccessful attempts to go back to sleep. The mat he was trying to sleep on was about one notch more comfortable than solid ground. Plus, he was sleeping next to Joe, not exactly Chris's idea, but until they made more grass mattresses and put an addition onto the hut, the sleeping arrangements would have to suffice.

If he could find the time and if their stay was longer than a few days, then he had big plans for the place. The homestead needed to be big enough for three generations of MacRaes . . . and the princess.

After spending a few minutes shifting and realigning his bones, he crawled over his dead-to-the-world brother, who just so happened to have all the blankets coiled around him.

Chris went to the kitchen area looking for something to eat. He peeked inside various sacks and canisters—flour, dried fruit, sugar, leftover bread, jam, and dried meat.

He was slicing himself a piece of bread when his father came through the hut door, letting in the first rays of sunlight. Scott looked like he had already been awake for hours. His heavy breathing, loose stride, and damp clothes suggested he was just returning from a workout.

"Good. You're already up," Scott said in a low voice. "Is your brother awake yet?" He stroked his beard and squinted over at the lifeless bundle in the corner of the room.

Chris raised both eyebrows in sheer disbelief that his father had just asked that. Surely, he remembered that Joe and morning didn't go well together. "I'm pretty sure he's still asleep."

"Well, wake him. We have to be there in less than an hour."

Scott strolled over to the kitchen shelves. He grabbed an inconspicuous sack and began munching on what looked like candied pineapple. His father always did have a strange obsession with the fruit. It was probably among his reasons for abandoning the North Atlantic. Fresh seafood just didn't compare.

"Where is 'there'?" Chris asked just before his father walked outside.

Scott turned around and rested his arm on the partially open door. "You're going to start training with the Kāne Army today."

"Oh," Chris replied, surprised.

"Are you all right with that?"

"Absolutely. This is just the first time I'm hearing about it. Do they train nearby?"

"Their basecamp is about a ten-minute walk. So, get ready, and meet me outside."

Once Scott left and reality set in, Chris developed a nervous pit in his stomach. Whenever physical activity was called for, he pushed himself to maximize his performance. Today would be no exception. He wanted to shine like never before.

Chris paced around itemizing and prioritizing everything he needed to accomplish before he left. He was about to sit down and eat his breakfast when his brother's snoring changed his course. Since rousing Joe would be arduous and time-consuming, Chris made it a priority and nudged his brother with the side of his foot.

Joe rolled away from the unwelcome assault and pulled the blankets over his bed-matted hair. Chris nudged him again, harder.

"Huh?" Joe grumbled in response.

"Get up. We have to leave soon," Chris said in a firm whisper.

Joe lifted his head from the pillow and squinted toward a glassless window. "It's still dark out. Go to hell," he replied like a grizzly bear. His head collapsed and he pulled the blanket back over it.

Chris squatted and shook his shoulder. "Come on. Get up, or Dad's gonna like me better for once."

"Never gonna happen," was Joe's retort, awake enough to set that record straight with an immediacy that was customary for him. "Ten more minutes," he tagged on. "Or better yet, how does an hour sound?"