Lair of Beasts [Book I in the Curse Of Blood Saga]

Chapter XII - Redweld Forest

Using the added leverage of an elevated grip to overpower the younger man, Carac made as if to plunge his blade down into Frederick's ribs but stopped inches from that vulnerable quarry. The point, so to speak, was made; much to Freddie's everlasting chagrin.

"How many times must one man die!" Carac's heavy guffaws rumbled around the yard, as per usual joined by Caine's. Lucian came over to slap the boy on the back in commiseration; or at least I thought it might be, but there was no pity displayed across Lucian's apathetic visage. He seemed perversely, even from this distance, rather irked.

"Well, your technique is utterly..." Carac paused as he tapped his chin.

"Wanting?" Freddie offered miserably.

"I was going to say shit!" Carac chuckled. "I daresay, I've seen better control on one-legged drunk!" The other men joined his roaring merriment. "You need to find your flow and control the fight." A crestfallen Frederick merely nodded at Carac.

"Aye, and turn your environment to your advantage," said Lucian. "Carac easily maneuvered you around so that the sun was in your eyes instead of his."

"Yes, my lord." Frederick dropped his shoulders glumly.

"Chin up, lad." Caine had by now sauntered in to add his two pennies. "There's always the potatoes in the scullery that need hacking." He slapped the boy's back heartily. "That'll put your sword arm to good use!"

"And as I recall," Lucian rejoined, cuffing his brother therewith over the back of the head, "that was where you spent most of your days when you weren't tripping over your sword like a mewling leveret." The repartee between the brothers promptly set the men off again.

I myself snickered quietly, both hands over my mouth, and — I'm ashamed to admit — appreciated Caine's epic set-down, for he was always so cock-sure and full of unwarranted arrogance. But my future brother was unabashed and chortled like a loon, thence conceding the point with an amiable shrug. He was, strangely, never chagrined whenever he was bested in wordplay.

As I contemplated the hour, a little gust of wind came burbling around the building and brushed playfully up against my back, as if urging me forward, before flicking my hair casually into my mouth and eyes and carrying dried leaves into the would-be arena like a whirling dervish.

Without warning Lucian's head snapped up and his eyes collided directly with mine as though I had as good as shouted his name across the yard; which I most certainly had not! I felt the blood drain out of my organs and suffuse my pale, chilly cheeks with crimson heat ere I immediately turned on my heel and scuttled away like the devil himself was at my back. 

It was apt, for some days I imagined they were one and the same: Lucian and Lucifer.

❆

I emerged from the postern tunnel with as much care as I had entering it, which is to say I held my breath nearly the entire way so that I might better hear any sneaky pursuers over the manic commotion of my protesting heart; if indeed there were any pursuers. There, fortunately, were not. I sighed and scrambled down the little incline, swinging my empty basket to and fro, while I picked my way towards the obscure path we'd followed before.

Glancing at the clear wintery sky overhead, I was relieved to note that the sun was still high. I would not be missed for a few hours yet and could be home before supper; with no one the wiser. Though I could ill-afford to dally, I did pick what fruits and herbs I found along the way — I must have an alibi after all.

Some wild garlic, field mustard, chicory and crab apples made their way into my basket, as well as some hazelnuts, rose hips, elderberries and blackberries, which I ate carefully lest someone see my black fingertips and thereby realize I'd been in the forest. I would thereby be caught red-handed...or black-fingered as the case would be.