The Mercenary's Bounty Page 9

  I’m not ready yet.

  And he could ask Alchan to make him strong. Alchan wouldn’t question it, since it was the only thing he really did when they were in the main village. He took it as his personal responsibility that the villages were trained to protect themselves, even if he always claimed to hate being there. Rain could easily convince Alchan for private tutoring.

  Rain wouldn’t be able to get Alchan alone until they made it to the village. That was a problem, since the closer to Olost they got, the more he dreaded going back to the main Andinna village. He had an on-and off-again lover there. A lover that would think he was still okay, but Rain couldn’t even begin to think of sex anymore without his stomach flipping in uncomfortable ways. He couldn’t think about that lover who liked to be a bit dominant with him, and Rain had once liked it.

  And there was his father. He couldn’t let his father get in his way, which meant he couldn’t know that he went to Alchan for training, not yet.

  The plan began to form. First he would go to Alchan. He would learn to be stronger without needing his wyvern side, the ferocious beast clawing at his chest to kill everything that scared him. If that didn’t help him, he would talk to Bryn. That worked.

  8

  Mave

  “Bryn, how’d I do today?” she asked, panting. “I lost count.” The sun was hot enough that she needed to lean on the rail, sweat dripping down her body.

  “Ya did over thirty. I’m almost worried yer pushin’ too hard.” Bryn stepped closer, looking over her face with some concern. “We’ve only been exercisin’ yer wings for less than a week. Ya okay?”

  “I like physical exercise,” she answered. “This is nothing.” It wasn’t, not to her. She had pushed her body further than this for centuries. If anything, it felt good to be working a part of the body that she had been forced to neglect for so long. “Just tell me if you’re worried I’m going to do any damage.”

  “Nah, I don’t think there will be any damage,” Bryn said, now eyeing her wings. “But I think if ya push too hard, ya might get too sore and have to sit out for a couple of days. I bet that would piss ya off.”

  “I won’t go that hard.” Or she would try not to. I make no promises. She wiped her face off and turned to look at the males training. Her eyes drifted to Matesh first and she drank that sight in. These males were always shirtless, only preferring to wear their leathers, which hugged muscular thighs. The entire look suited Mat in ways that pleased her.

  “Ya stare any harder and people might begin to think yer in love with him,” Bryn teased. “Are ya?”

  Mave coughed at the suddenness of the comment, heat flooding her face. When all she could summon was a stammering response, Bryn just laughed, throwing his head back like it was the best joke he’d ever heard.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, finally finding the resolve to say anything. “I’ve never…been in love.”

  “Ah, I didn’t mean to touch a sore spot then.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “He likes ya a lot and ya obviously like him. It’s fun to watch for the rest of us.”

  “Is it?” She frowned, wondering what they were all watching that was so interesting.

  “Hm. He’s doing everything ya could expect from an Andinna male. He’s puffin’ his chest out, helping ya with every little thing, always tryin’ to spend the most time with ya. It’ll calm down eventually, but we’re all havin’ a good time watching the beginnin’ stages.” Bryn chuckled. “I mean, now that yer talkin’ to me and not staring at him, he’s staring over here, wondering how he lost your attention. He might even get a little jealous of the time ya spend with me, but a proper Andinna male will never voice it, knowing it’s not his place.”

  She turned back to see Bryn was right. Mat smiled at her and she couldn’t resist one herself as she met emerald green eyes across the deck. Without warning, Mat crumpled over, wheezing. The males training all began to laugh as Leshaun held up his cane and pointed it at her.

  “Stop distracting him,” the old male ordered her. She couldn’t even get insulted or angry. It had been so sudden that she was laughing along with everyone else.

  “Bodrya. Why?” Matesh coughed out. She could see he was still smiling, and something about the entire scene warmed her, but not in a physical way. It was like some ice chip on her heart melted.

  “Staring at females gets males killed,” Leshaun explained. “And so does staring at males, Mave!”

  She laughed harder, covering her face. Never in her long life had she ever stared at someone to the point of distraction. She was better than that, but the accusation made her feel normal. She also had a sneaking suspicion that she really could stare at Matesh to the point of injury. He was a fine-looking male and she finally had time to appreciate it.

  She was still giggling as the other Andinna on the deck quieted and went back to work. Sailors had even stopped to watch what happened, which was unusual. For the entire trip, the human sailors had kept to their own, leaving the Andinna a wide berth unless they were on cooking or cleaning duty.

  She turned back to Brynec and noticed he was watching her with a bemused expression.

  “What?” she asked, the humor dying.

  “Ya have a nice laugh,” he answered, shrugging. “I was tryin’ to remember if I ever heard ya laugh so much.”

  “I…” She wasn’t sure what to say. It was a common occurrence, really. Years of silence had left her unprepared for comments like that.

  “Now I’m tryin’ to figure out how I can make it happen again. Laughin’ is good for the soul. Eases some of the tension, relieves some of the stress. Ya should laugh more, I think.” He turned as he spoke. “I’m goin’ in to think about this. Want to come in and play cards?”

  “No…” She waved at him. “I’ll see you at dinner, I guess. Then evening stretches?”

  “Ya don’t need me for the stretches, but aye, I’ll be there.” Bryn smiled over his shoulder at her and then went inside.

  She was enjoying the sun too much to go inside. She leaned on the rail again, looking out at the ocean. She loved the look of it. Endless blue, so different from the dirty, dark tunnels of the pits or the white walls of Elliar. A few seabirds flew high above them, diving down to grab fish. A sign that they were drawing closer to Olost with every breath they took. So close to shore, to a new land, to her freedom.

  When the ocean bored her, she turned back to the training males. This time, she looked at all of them, much like she had watched the other gladiators. It felt different, though.

  I’m not watching them like I need to protect myself.

  No, instead she was just drinking them in. Cut, firm bodies. Fine males with clear, dark ink swirling and cutting across their bodies, except the odd white that Luykas had. All of them were in their prime except Leshaun, who wasn’t working out with the younger males. Like her, he was just watching.

  They fascinated her, truly.

  Nevyn and Varon, with their dark colors and how they moved, like they were in sync. She watched them spar as a pair against Alchan and Luykas, moving so fluidly she was certain they could read each other’s minds. She saw that they even kept their tails hooked with each other at the tips, as if they wanted to be one body in a deadly dance against two opponents. They didn’t let Alchan or Luykas between them, forcing the other pair to split up and lose their rhythm.

  They won easily, forcing Luykas and Alchan to admit defeat, everyone laughing and shaking hands at the exciting spar. She admired that. In the pits, even sparring partners could be cruel to each other, trying to one up and do better, even injure each other. The difference was startling. The comradery was something she wasn’t used to, though she had been getting close with Rain and Mat.

  After that, she saw Matesh and Zayden pairing off. Matesh was taller, but Zayden was a broad male, packed with muscle and dangerous in his own right. She could see he had a temper as fiery as the sun, snarling and attacking, not allowing Mat a break to breathe.

  “W
hat do you see?” Leshaun asked her, walking closer.

  “Zayden fights like he’s going to die and take everyone down with him,” she replied, not surprised by Leshaun finally coming to see her. The way he fought was something she felt like she might have in common with the grouchy father.

  “Yes, he’s like that. Always has been, since he was boy. He named Rainev for it.”

  “Here I thought Rain was named for the…rain,” she muttered. “Let me guess. An Andena term I’m missing?”

  “The rai,” Leshaun explained. “The rai is our passion, the fierceness of what we feel. Or, as everyone says, our temper. Temper is the most common way it presents itself. Many don’t use rai anymore.”

  “Rai,” she said in a softly, hushed way, testing the word out for herself. “And he made it into Rainev.”

  “Yes, but to know more, you would need to talk to Zayden.”

  “Of course.” She snorted. “He and I don’t do much talking.”

  “You don’t talk to many. I’m glad to see you talking to Brynec now. He’s a sound choice of a friend, even if he is…morally grey.” Leshaun tapped his cane on the deck thoughtfully. “I’m glad to see you out at all for more than just your own exercises. I know I’m tough on your education, but I also feel like this is important.”

  “I’m tough on myself. I don’t like not knowing.”

  He looked down at her, silent for a moment. She wondered what those half-blind eyes saw in her. Leshaun was tough, but also kind. Caring, but stern. He wasn’t afraid to whack someone with his cane, no matter who they were, but he was also patient with her mistakes.

  “Ala non lerani eni vorha.”

  “No…running…mountain.” She frowned. “That’s all I got.”

  “It roughly translates to ‘there is no sprinting up a mountain.’ It means you need to pace yourself. Yes, work hard, but don’t fault yourself for not making as much ground as you want in a single day. It’s a long journey to the peak and moving too fast one day may only slow you down later in the trip.” He gave her a small, weary smile. “You didn’t know any of those words when you came on the ship.”

  “Fitting. I’ll remember that, thank you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She went back to watching the males. Rainev was now sparring with Luykas, growling as he over-extended to get past Luykas’ defenses. It was a foolish mistake, driven by emotions and anger. She sighed, shaking her head as Luykas disarmed him. No one said anything or laughed this time. It was becoming more apparent every day that Rain was losing his patience with being on the ship. And that he was finding his temper harder to control.

  “Go inside,” Luykas ordered him. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t forgiving either. There was no room in Luykas’ tone that meant it could be disobeyed. Rain didn’t say anything, tossing his wooden practice sword to Matesh and storming inside.

  “To be young and upset,” Leshaun said, sighing.

  “Yeah…” She had once been there. To control herself in the pits, she had locked it all away. While Rain was battling the new sensations of pain, she was trying to keep hers from flooding back up. Repressing it for so many centuries was beginning to take its toll, her tight hold on the reins of her emotions slipping more often as she found less real need to hold them. She hoped he worked it out. She hoped he found what he needed to heal and not become like her.

  “Would you like to spar, Mave?” Matesh called out.

  “I’m out of practice,” she called back.

  “Liar!” Matesh grinned, holding up the wooden sword Rain left. She knew a challenge when she saw one and stepped closer, leaving Leshaun behind, the old male chuckling. As she grew closer, everyone stopped and began to watch her. She took the offered sword and backed away again, spinning it in her hand, testing its weight.

  “Who wants to call winner?” Matesh asked.

  “I will,” Luykas answered. “Three hits or a fatal blow is the winner. Ready?”

  She focused on Mat, blocking out the rest of the Company and the sailors around her. Even Captain Sen was saying something from his wheel along the lines of ‘Let’s see this female knock his ass around.’

  “Go!” Luykas ordered.

  Mave dove forward fast, dodging Matesh’s first swing as he misjudged the speed of her attack. She slammed the wooden sword into his gut, pushing him back hard enough he lost his footing.

  “Out of practice, she says,” Nevyn mumbled. “Voek. Al amov Andinna vahne.” Alchan laughed at that, but Matesh growled softly. That was all she needed to know about whatever voek and amov meant.

  Take the chance, Mave. Call him out and ask for an answer. You can do this. An insult is an insult in any language.

  “I didn’t catch all of that,” she said. “Care to explain?”

  Nevyn’s eyes went wide as what she said settled in. Varon began to sign wildly to someone.

  “Please. I knew half of it. Let’s hear it. Particularly voek and amov.” She waved the wooden short sword at him, beckoning a response. She couldn’t back down now. She declared her own ignorance, and now she would need an answer or they would always use Andena to talk about her.

  “Voek is damn,” Nevyn said, groaning afterwards. “Amov is…the Andena equivalent to bitch. If you wanted to call me that, it would be bodov. Basically, I said ‘Damn. The bitch Andinna is strong.’”

  “And what did I ever do to get called a bitch by you?” She shut down. She locked away the hurt and anger at his explanation. She knew what she was doing as Matesh cursed, standing up to step in front of her.

  “It’s not so much insulting as just the way we talk. He just wanted to call you a female,” he tried to explain. “Nevyn didn’t mean anything by it, not against you anyway. He was more making fun of me.”

  “I didn’t,” the male agreed. “You haven’t done anything. It just rolled off my tongue when you said you were out of practice and then you did that. Matesh is the beefiest male here, and you landed him on his ass. Male was beaten by a bitch, that’s all.”

  She tried to pull the walls back down and relax, but it was hard. He hadn’t meant anything by it. She kept repeating that to herself.

  “Keep practicing with us?” Matesh asked softly. “Please?”

  “Of course,” she murmured, giving him a tight smile. As she turned away from Nevyn and the small crowd around him, she made her hands relax. She took a deep breath.

  “Hey.” She glanced back at the male, wondering what he wanted now. “Good work with that, by the way. You surprised me with that move, that’s all.”

  “Thanks. I was told you’re good. Care to spar?” She threw the proverbial gauntlet.

  Nevyn grinned at that. “What’s on the line? I accidentally insulted you, so maybe we should put a bet on this.”

  “I want to know how you and Varon worked so well together. If I win, you’ll tell me.”

  “Hm. I would have told you anyway, but then again, knowledge is power. If I win, I want to teach you how to use different blades and we’re tossing those ugly Elvasi short swords into the sea.”

  “I would have wanted to learn anyway,” she responded, smiling. “But you are the resident master everyone talks about.”

  “Everyone, out of the way,” Nevyn ordered, walking forward. “Live steel. Three bloods. Nothing fatal.”

  “Good terms.” She handed off her wooden sword to Matesh, who made no complaint. A sword was held out to her after that, a gladius she knew well. Nevyn was using a wicked blade with a curve at the end. It was similar to a scimitar and made her interested. She had never seen anything like it.

  “Go,” Luykas called, his tone more tense this time.

  Nevyn didn’t charge her and since she didn’t know him, she didn’t make the first move either. Andinna and sailors began to back away further, leaving them a large circle. They paced around, keeping their bodies towards the other, waiting for an opening.

  “How long have you been a warrior?” she asked, hoping the conversation would give a distraction and giv
e her the opening she wanted.

  “I’ve been a soldier since I was two hundred,” Nevyn told her nonchalantly, not missing a beat. “Thirty-three hundred years of weapons. It’s all I know.”

  She raised an eyebrow. He was in his thirty-five hundreds then. He had centuries of experience on her. She would take him seriously, more seriously than she took many of the older gladiators. He seemed confident in a way that she recognized. This was a warrior who still fought on real battlefields, not on sands for entertainment. She could see it in the way he moved, the way he kept the same watchful eye on her.

  “Get on with it,” someone called out.

  They made the first step towards each other at the same time, and suddenly, steel was clashing, singing and sparking in the bright sun. She pulled her wings in as tight as she could, holding them out of her way. She spun, ducking an overhead swing. She sliced his thigh and jumped back, but didn’t get the distance she wanted. He followed and thanks to his longer reach, he cut her upper arm once.

  Before she could recover, he gave her a second cut across her ribs. She snarled, spinning again, this time using her tail to grab his leg. He was faster than her, and that annoyed her. A big male like him wasn’t supposed to be so much faster than her.

  Or as smart as he was.

  He sliced her tail, making her stop moving.

  “I win,” he called. She dropped her sword in shock at the speed of her defeat, unable to really process how that just happened. He picked up and held it out for her. “I’ve seen you fight before, remember? I know what you like to do. You trip people up with spins, keeping your wings in, something most Andinna can’t pull off. The problem is you have no formal training and you forgot to account that I do. I’ve also been in thousands more fights against all sorts of different peoples. You’re very good, and anyone else in the Company would have a hard time. I won’t.”