Eden-South (28 page)

“It’s not what you think,” Callum said
defensively, to Rose’s gratitude. She did not turn to look at him,
trying to avoid making the situation any more awkward than it was
already.

“I’m sure,” he said, chuckling. “Why are you
two still asleep? We have a war to attend to, man! Godfrey just
returned from his scouting mission, and he’s informed me that the
High King’s army is on the move. Our time is coming!” Rose thought
he was enjoying himself way too much at that moment. Not just with
their—hers and Callum’s—situation, but with the whole war in its
entirety. The man seemed to love the notion of fighting, which
scared her a little. It still surprised Rose, almost on a daily
basis, how laid-back and friendly Brutus the Red was. All the
stories she had heard of him when she was younger said what a
monster he was, a man who fed on the blood of others. Rose couldn’t
help but wonder if he hadn’t spread those rumours himself. He would
enjoy the thought of people saying such horrible things about him.
In reality, he wasn’t nearly so scary to be around, and seemed to
find humour in most situations. Even now, he stood with the same
smile across his face. She was too nervous to get out of the bed,
so she lay still, waiting for Callum to make the first move.

Callum remained where he was, however. “We
will meet you outside then,” he replied calmly. “Thank you for
letting us know.” Brutus took that as his dismissal, which was
exactly what it was. Giving a wink in Rose’s direction, he turned
and left slowly.

“That man seems to find an immense amount of
joy in my discomfort,” she said resentfully. Callum laughed, lying
his head back down for a minute.

“He is a good man, Brutus,” he commented. “I
am glad to have met him.” She remained sitting up, keeping her
blankets around her, even though the tent was now warm from the
morning sun. “You’ll have to get up first, you know,” he said
eventually. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m naked,
remember?”

The picture of him came flooding back into
her head, unfortunately. She could only imagine Brutus’s face if
Callum had gotten out of bed in front of him. Neither of them would
have lived it down, no matter what they said to him. Throwing her
legs off the side, she stood up quickly, keeping her back to him.
She didn’t need another show like the one last night. Going over to
the small basin of water in the corner, she splashed some water on
her face to help refresh her. She could hear him buckling his pants
up, and knew it was safe to turn around. He still wore no shirt,
but he was more or less covered.

“Thank you,” she said nervously. He looked
over curiously. “For letting me sleep in the bed,” she explained.
“It was nice not to have to sleep on the floor for once.”

He smiled, pulling his shirt over his head.
“You’re welcome, Rose,” was all he said. Sometimes she found him to
be so courteous with her, it would catch her off guard. It almost
made her forget that she was a prisoner. Even when they spoke at
night sometimes, when Brutus was there too, he would include her in
the conversation like she was one of them. Neither of them treated
her like a young girl who had been taken forcibly from her home.
Pushing the thoughts of home away, she sat down on the ground to
pull on the riding boots Callum had given her recently. They were
much easier to travel in than her slippers. She guessed he had
stolen them too, but she didn’t dwell on it.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded her head,
following him out of the tent. It was custom for him now to wait
for her, before they left together to retrieve his horse. Everyone
in the camp was probably used to seeing her by his side during
their travels. Some of the looks she got made her uneasy—men smiled
at her in a way she did not like. They were few and far between,
however, since no one would dare look at her that way if Callum
caught them. He had once threatened to kill one of them, simply
because they had almost knocked her down while passing by. His
reaction had startled the poor guy, and Rose, but it was the last
time it happened. From that point on, everyone made sure to keep
their distance from Callum’s red-headed prisoner.

Callum got up on the horse first, holding
his hand out to pull her up. He did so as easily as he always did,
as if she weighed only a pound. She wondered then how much he had
changed, physically, since being there. Aziz was not the only
person who had changed during this war. As far as Rose was
informed, Callum had been the scholar out of the two brothers,
never having been trained in the King’s army. Now, he was as hard
and lean as any soldier. Surely, he had changed greatly since his
time in the Capital.

“Do you think your brother will recognize
you?” she asked, facing his back. He grew momentarily rigid, and
then seemed to force himself to relax. “I’m sorry,” she apologized
quickly. “Did I say something wrong?”

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, but
she could tell he was making a great effort. She had watched him
enough over the past couple of weeks, to be able to read his body
language quite proficiently.

“It just surprised me,” he said. “What do
you mean by that question?”

They were riding now, alongside the men on
foot, heading for the front where Brutus rode. “Well, I just
assumed you have changed greatly since coming here. All the
training you’ve had must have made you different than before.”

“Are you checking out my body, Rose?” he
said, peeking over his shoulder at her. Rose’s face heated
instantly.

“No!”

He started to laugh. “I’m only bugging you.
Perhaps he will not,” he answered honestly. “You are correct to say
that I have changed since coming here. My old self is half the man
I am now. I’m sure when he sees my face he’ll know me, if not by my
figure.”

She didn’t ask any more questions, too
embarrassed by the implications of her first. Of course, he would
assume she had noticed his physique by asking such a question. She
felt humiliated.

They rode for the most part of the day,
stopping once to let the horses drink by a small lake. Rose
splashed some water on her face, rubbing off the dust that stuck to
her while they were riding. This was not a place for a woman, she
thought miserably. It had been days since she had taken a real
bath; her hair was becoming knotted and flat. She sighed loudly,
causing Callum to turn toward her.

“My hair is a disaster,” she said sullenly.
He laughed. “You soldiers wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I can agree with you there. Men don’t
find such things important when on the road.”

Getting up, she walked back over to their
horse, drying her face on a cloth she kept in the saddlebags.
Callum was stretching a little bit away from them. His sword lay on
the grass beside him.

“Callum,” she called out. He turned toward
her, his eyebrows raised expectantly. She rarely used his name; it
sounded weird and familiar when she did. “Can you teach me to
fight?” she asked, nodding her head at the sword. His eyebrows rose
higher, following her look to his weapon.

“You want to learn how to use a sword?” he
asked uncertainly. She nodded her head. “Why would I teach you how
to use something you could use against me? That would be pretty
stupid of me, don’t you think?”

She shook her head angrily. “If I had wanted
to attack you, or kill you, I would have done so already.”

“You did try to attack me,” he corrected
her. “And if you did so again, you wouldn’t get very far.”

“Is that a challenge?”

He smiled. “Rose, the sword would be too
heavy for you even to swing at me. This is foolhardy.” She stood
defiantly, challenging him with her look. He laughed out loud,
shrugging his shoulders. “All right, if you insist.” Walking over
to the horse, he pulled another sword from its sheath, handing it
to her. He was right—it was extremely heavy—but she didn’t let him
see her struggle.

They walked over to where there was more
room, him picking up his other sword where it lay as they went.

“You have to remember to keep your wrist
strong,” he instructed. “It can easily break, and you’ll lose your
sword. Keep your feet spread apart, so your balance is strong.”

“What is going on here?” Brutus said,
sounding amused as always, as he approached them.

“She wants to learn to use a sword,” Callum
replied, his voice just as amused.

Brutus barked his laughter. “Is that wise?”
he said to Callum. They both just smiled.

“I don’t appreciate the lack of confidence
from either of you,” Rose said with as much dignity as she could
muster.

“Our apologies.” Brutus chuckled. “Please,
continue.”

They faced each other, Rose holding her
sword as strongly as she could. It took all the muscles in her arm
to keep the sword steady. Bracing her feet, she waited for him to
move. He came fast, stepping toward her in a quick, fluid motion,
bringing his sword down on hers. The sword flew from her hands,
landing only a few feet away. The hit ran through her arm, stinging
it from the force. She held her hand, looking at him
accusingly.

“I told you to keep your wrist firm,” he
said, picking up the sword again and handing it to her. “How do you
expect to win, if your opponent can disarm you so easily?”

The wind of the spring day whipped through
her hair, keeping her cool in the sunlight. Her face was hot,
however, more from embarrassment than anything. She tried again,
keeping her arm firm as he attacked once more. This time he didn’t
hit the sword with his own; instead, he twisted in front of her,
ending up behind her with his sword at her throat. The weapon she
held remained useless in her hand. Brutus clapped, clearly enjoying
the whole exercise.

They continued like this until they were
ready to leave. He outwitted her every time, barely giving her an
opportunity to attack. She had never felt so useless in her life.
From then on, every time they stopped for a break he would practice
with her. Eventually, she learned how to dodge his attacks, finding
her movements quicker because of her small size. Her attacks were
hopeless, though, the weight of the sword making her movements slow
and ineffective. Still, Rose appreciated the effort Callum put into
teaching her. If anything, she knew how to read his body language
when he approached her, guessing which way he would attack, and
manoeuvring herself the opposite. He complimented her on that,
telling her that if she couldn’t fight back, at least she’d have a
good chance of getting away. Rose could only hope.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

They were woken up at dawn, having slept only
a couple of hours, and told to start packing a small bag of just
the necessities. Aiden was exhausted, and found himself dragging
his feet around the small room he had called his bedroom for the
last two weeks. Time had flown by, each day full from the time he
woke up until the time he went to sleep. He had barely enough time
to miss his parents and sister, or even to think of his life back
at home. The approach of battle started to send his mind down all
sorts of paths. Memories from home finally came flooding back as he
packed, and he was suddenly violently homesick. Sitting on the edge
of the bed, he began to wonder how he was going to manage all this.
Elisa walked in to find him sitting there. She walked over, taking
a seat beside him.

“Do you need to talk?” she asked gently.

“I think I’m just overwhelmed,” he admitted.
“I haven’t seen my family in a while, and I miss them a lot. This
whole thing, this battle and everything that rides on it … it’s
just too much for me to handle.”

“The outcome of this war does not ride on
you alone,” she comforted him. “We all feel that way; anyone would
in a time like this. I’m sure the men of the northern army even
feel that way. War is never a simple thing—there will always be a
winner and a loser. Even when it is over, it is never truly
over.”

“Why bother then?”

“We do what we have to, Aiden, to protect
those who need protecting in our lands. Think of all the small
children who haven’t grown up yet to enjoy the world. They need
that chance. If Brutus the Red takes over, all of Eden will be torn
to shreds. There will be no freedom for those who live here, those
who even survive. This has to stay in the back of our minds as we
go to fight. It will keep us strong and determined.”

He looked over at her. It was obvious she
believed in everything she was saying, but he felt it was easier
said than done. Of course he thought about all the people who had
been killed, or were still in danger, but that didn’t make it a
simple task. Two massive armies would meet only a short time from
today, and he would be expected to lead the first line of defence
toward the opponent. Him—a boy who wasn’t even of this land, who
had never even dreamt of doing something like this. What did he
know about leading men? What did he know of war, besides what he
read in history books, and those wars were nothing like this one.
This world that existed alongside his own, a land filled with
people who lived and laughed like his did, where there were two
large moons that lit up the sky, and forests and hills that filled
the landscapes. Where witches lived, and sorcerers, and mystical
creatures that could tear you to shreds. It was all so much, all so
complicated. Now he was leaving this tiny room he had grown
accustomed to, to meet whatever was being led toward them. It was
the finale, the point where it would be decided who would be left
to rule, and who would die. He wouldn’t be one of the numbers who
died during this battle—he had been made aware of that—but one of
his friends could be. Then he would go back home and have to live
with the memory of losing someone he had grown so attached to. His
heart hurt, the weight almost too much to bear.