The Brotherhood: Blood (62 page)
“Look, boy,” Miko growled, turning his head to glare at him from beneath the shroud of his cloak. “You
will not
question my intentions.”
“Sir—”
“Put yourself in my place. Would you keep one of the most powerful urges you’ve ever felt locked inside, or would you release it any way you could?”
“I wouldn’t rape someone just to make myself feel better!”
“There’ll come a day when you want a woman just as badly as I do, and when that day comes, you’ll realize that you
won’t
be able to control that urge. At least I have been given permission to take the girl. I could do it against her will.”
“You
will
be doing it against her will.”
A hand lashed out.
A brute palm struck his face.
Sent to the ground, blood trickling from the side of his lip, Odin could only look up, mind reeling and face throbbing in pain.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw the most terrible anguish light his knight master’s face before he slipped out the door.
Lying on the floor, bleeding and hurt, Odin curled into a ball, closed his eyes, and cried himself to sleep.
There was nothing he could do.
A woman was going to be raped tonight.
That morning, Odin didn’t get out of bed until late in the afternoon. Having woken not only at dawn, but to a day where things seemed impossibly-dreary, he dreaded the day and what it would bring so much that he simply lay in bed with his eyes closed, not in the least bit inclined to get up and face the demons that surely lurked nearby.
Finally, when the sun lay high in the sky and pierced directly through the overhead windows, Nova came to his side and shook him up. “Odin,” he whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “What happened last night?”
“We talked,” Odin said, pushing himself into a sitting position.
“You
talked?”
“Yeah. I took your suggestion and talked to him about what he was going to do last night. He hit me when I told him I would never rape a woman just to make myself feel better.”
“That bastard,” Nova growled.
“It doesn’t really matter,” Odin laughed, reaching up to rub his bruised face, “because he went anyway.”
“I haven’t seen him all day.”
“He’s too afraid to come back and face what he did to me.”
Placing a hand on Nova’s shoulder, Odin rose to his feet and faced the eastern windows. A mere sliver of the mansion lay visible on the hill, a single drop of blood atop a virgin’s skin.
“”I’m going to talk to him when he gets back,” Nova said, voice thick with anger. “Only a coward hits a boy, especially a boy who’s only concerned about him.”
“I knew it was a bad idea to try and talk him out of it.”
“No it wasn’t. You didn’t do anything to deserve what he did.”
“I insulted him.”
“He
deserves
to be insulted, Odin. Don’t you get it? He said you would end up raping someone when you got the urge to fuck just because you
wanted
to. How pathetic is that? You acted more like a man than he did last night.”
Odin said nothing.
In the lapse of silence that followed, Nova drew close and set a hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” he said.
“Where are we going?” Odin frowned.
“To the bar. We’ll get some lunch and forget about this whole incident for now. Ok?”
“Ok.”
With a sigh, Odin followed his friend to the door, only just realizing how much it hurt to touch something the Elf had no more than a few hours before.
They ate a variety of breads, cheeses, meats and vegetables and tried to forget about the earlier conversation and the emotions it had stirred. Throughout this time, and during the duration before and after the meal, men sitting at the bar or tables glanced at Odin when they took notice of the bruise slowly flowering across his face. They, however, said nothing, and whether they glanced at him due to the bruise or something more Odin didn’t know. He suspected the former held a very strong hand in this game—the one who held the king.
I don’t think he’ll be coming back to the cottage for a while.
Sliding cheese rolled in meat into his mouth, Odin looked up at Nova, watching him tear a chunk out of his thick sandwich. A quick look at his plate showed he’d tried to stuff most, if not everything between the bread.
“Is that good?” Odin asked, not sure whether to copy his friend.
“I think it is,” Nova said, swallowing his mouthful before swigging it down with a light alcohol. “I promise not to drink as much as I did last time.”
“It’s all right,” Odin said. He, too, sipped the beer, in favor of the numbing sensation it created in both his heart and face. “As long as you don’t get drunk, you can order another glass. I might order one myself.”
“I thought you didn’t like the stuff?”
“So did I,” Odin mumbled.
Nova frowned, but returned his attention to his food, as if suddenly unnerved at Odin’s sad eyes.
I really need to cheer up.
Why drag Nova into his bad mood?
“Sorry,” Odin sighed, setting his glass back on the table. “I mean, for being so depressing.”
“It’s all right. If I were you, I
know
I’d feel bad. I’m surprised you haven’t cried yet.”
“I’m trying not to,” he said, not bothering to mention he’d bawled more than enough last night. It was quite possible he didn’t have any more tears
to
cry. “Anyway, thanks for taking me out to lunch.”
“You don’t have to thank me, bud. I know it’s not a lot, but considering I’m using some of the money my father-in-law gave to me, it’s all I can really afford, since I’m not digging into our journey’s stash. I used most of my money trying to find you.”
“It’s ok. Really. I like what you got us.”
“Me too,” Nova chuckled, setting the other half of his massive sandwich down. “Gotta give me a little to get the urge to finish what I ate. I didn’t realize how much food we ordered.”
“It didn’t cost that much though.”
“Yeah, but we still got a lot of food.”
Odin nodded. He smiled for what he believed had been the first time that day. “You want to go anywhere else after this, Nova?”
“Like where?”
“I don’t know. Just… around?”
“Sure. It’s not like we have much else to do anyway.”
No,
Odin sighed.
We don’t.
After lunch, they made their way down the long street that both the infirmary and bar sat on, taking in what they’d already seen. Though Odin didn’t particularly pay attention to his surroundings, as his mind was much too frazzled, he liked the feeling of being with his friend above anything else.
At least he doesn’t hit me.
Then again, he
had
provoked Miko at a bad time. Would the same thing have occurred if he’d chosen his words more carefully? Could he have avoided getting backhanded if he had simple stated that he wouldn’t rape anyone?
Why would I do that? What
makes
him think I’d do that?
Up until now, he hadn’t considered the prospect of being with someone—mainly, and in part, because he’d always been focused on getting out of the tower and becoming a knight. He
knew
he would eventually like to have a family—a home, a purpose, a job and, above all else, a responsibility—but until that time came, he couldn’t dwell on it. He couldn’t imagine being a husband, much less a father to a child in that given moment of time.
“Hey,” Nova said, reaching out to touch his upper back. “What’re you thinking about?”
“Not a whole lot,” Odin said. “I was thinking about what I might do after I become a knight,”
“A family?” Nova asked. Odin nodded in response. “That’s what I want after I get back to Bohren.”
“You do?”
“Uh huh. I hadn’t discussed it with Katarina before I left, but I’ve always wanted a son.”
“You’d make a good father,” Odin said.
“I hope so. Now that I’m with Katarina, at least I could give my boy everything I never had. Not that it wouldn’t matter if Katarina was wealthy or not, but it does help.”
“What makes you think you’ll have a boy the first time around?”
“I’ve seen it?”
“Your Sight?”
“Yeah. All I see is a baby in Katarina’s arms, but I know it’s a boy because she keeps saying, ‘Our son.’”
“Do you see yourself in your visions?”
“No. Not yet, anyway.”
Odin looked up when they came to the end of the road—where, directly at the junction that created an L in the path, a black, stone plaque stood, its text too faded to read.
“What do you think it is?” Odin asked.
“I dunno.” Nova stepped forward and bowed his head to the black surface. “I’m guessing it commemorates the village. You know, saying it was built and what it hopes to accomplish.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“I
think
they have one in Bohren, though I can’t really be sure.”
“And Felnon’s not big enough to have anything like that.”
“Your home’s been around for a few years though, right?”
“Uh huh. I don’t know
exactly
how long, but it’s been there since before I was born—I know that much.”
“Ah well,” Nova chuckled. “You want to keep going?”
“I don’t know,” Odin shrugged. As far as he could see, there wasn’t a whole lot up the northern road. “If you want to. I don’t care.”
“I don’t either. I’m just saying—there’s not a whole lot we can do back at the cottage. If your leg and hip were better, we could go spar or something, but that’s out of the question.”
It sure is.
“There’s got to be
something
to do here,” Odin said. “I mean, Joseph’s friend had a carriage, but I don’t see how they’d raise the horses with no grass.”
“Unless they’re using some kind of magic to feed them.”
“I don’t see how they’d been doing it though,” he mumbled.
As far as he remembered, it
took
plants to
make
plants. Of course, a person could always mate two preexisting plants or flowers himself, but that took work and a careful eye. Grass, on the other hand, had to have a place to grow, as well as soil and enough sunlight and warmth to keep it alive.
It is a globe here,
he thought, entranced with the idea of what kind of magic the mages could be using to make their fruits and vegetables. Did it ever rain here?
“Let’s go up the road,” Odin said. “Maybe we’ll find the answer to that question.”
“Might as well,” Nova grinned. “Come on, bud. Let’s go.”
Though they never did find where the townspeople kept their livestock, how they grew their food or whether or not the globe surrounding the village was capable of producing precipitation, the time spent together was well worth the trip. They took the far, north road back to the village and arrived at the cottage around dusk, just as the sky lost its brilliant hue and the orbs ceased to give off their warmth.
“At least we’re home,” Odin said.
“Yeah,” Nova sighed, “but we had fun, right?”
Nodding, Odin pushed the door open. He’d expected to see Miko at least lying or sitting on his bed, but frowned when he saw that the Elf hadn’t returned. “He never came back,” he said.
“Do you blame him?” Nova asked. “He hit you hard enough to knock you down. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”
“I don’t want him to be gone through.”
“You don’t?”
Odin shook his head and seated himself down on his makeshift bed. “He hit me because he was hurt and confused,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want him to think I hate him.”
“You’re a very forgiving person, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“No,” Odin smiled. “I don’t.”
“I mean it. Miko said you forgave your father after he threatened to take you back home. He also said you forgave Daughtry when he apologized for not trying to do more to get you out of the tower.”
“People make mistakes.”
“Yeah, but it’s not easy to forgive those kind of mistakes.”
“I don’t see why I should hate or stay mad at someone after they apologized. All it does is continue to make me feel bad.”
“He’ll be glad to know that you’re not angry.”
“I know,” Odin said. “I’m not.”
With the rising sun came the realization that Miko had not returned—that the angel, so grand and beautiful, had fallen from grace; that the king, so high and mighty, had been brought down; and that the child, whose fate was foretold from the beginning of time, was slain by the giant. It was for this reason that as Odin slowly came to consciousness that morning, he sighed. Frustrated beyond belief, he sat up, brought his knees to his chest, and bowed his head.
