Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1) (40 page)

“They’re never going to respect you unless
you win their approval,” she said.

Brayden cast a curious glance over his
shoulder. “What?”

“Clint and Broderick. The others too.”

Brayden created a notch with his hands to
hoist Dana up into a tree. The rough bark tugged at her slacks as
she climbed up.

“I shouldn’t have to win their approval,”
Brayden said. “Like Stoneman and Pick respect Khalous. He doesn’t
have to earn their respect. They respect him because he’s their
superior.”

Dana crouched on a limb and looked down at
her brother. “So you think you’re superior to the others.”

“Everyone keeps expecting me to be a leader,
so, yes.”

Brayden climbed up into the tree.

“I just wish they would trust me,” Brayden
continued. “Things would be so much easier if Clint wasn’t fighting
me all the time. Broderick too.”

“Clint is like a dog trying to lead the
pack, but he’s got no idea where he’s going and he’s too dumb to
realize that most of the others don’t respect his leadership
anyway. Worry less about him and more about our brother.”

He followed Dana out onto a thick limb and
dropped down onto the wall.

“They need to understand the chain of
command,” Brayden said.

“Khalous might have us living like we’re
soldiers, but we’re not soldiers,” Dana said. “There’s no chain of
command here. And the boys are, um…” Dana paused, unsure of how
much she should tell him. If she were to be honest, she’d have to
admit that the others found Brayden too timid. “They need a reason
to follow you,” she concluded.

Brayden looked hurt. “What are you
saying?”

Dana winced, worried she’d said too much.
“Remember how father used to dine with the soldiers every few days?
He’d go out to the barracks, sit with the men, learn about them,
talk and joke with them. And maybe he had their respect by default,
but he earned it nonetheless.”

Dana led the way, sidling out along a thick
bough toward the monastery’s outer wall. She hopped down onto the
stone, traversed across the top of the wall, and lowered herself
down the other side.

Brayden followed suit, landing next to her
on the soft grass.

“Any suggestions?” he asked, his voice
quieter.

“I don’t know.” Dana poked her finger into
his chest. “That’s privileged information for leaders like you to
figure out.”

She looked around, making sure the way was
clear. “So why did you tell them not to open the box without
you?”

“Because I know how to get it open.”

Her brows lifted. “Really? How?”

He smirked. “That’s privileged information
for leaders like me.” He took off at a slight jog south toward the
main road.

Dana headed west along the inner skirt of
the northern wall.

As she moved deeper into the monastery, she
grew nervous. She recalled what had happened to Preston, Nash, and
Ty when they attempted to retrieve the box the day before. When the
boys had returned, Preston bore a bruised cheek courtesy of Pick,
and Nash’s bloody nose and Ty’s bruised ribs were the result of an
encounter with Stoneman. She wondered what would happen to her if
she were caught.

Dana came across the blacksmith’s workshop
first. The man who worked as the monastery’s smithy, a big-armed
criminal named Lorne, had been reformed through the ministry of
Duktori Bendrosi. He worked in the shop twice a week making tools
and fixing broken metal objects. The man had intimidated Dana when
she’d first met him, but Lorne, despite his wild eyes and toothless
grin, was nothing but a big teddy bear inside.

Dana looked around the workshop, but didn’t
see the locked box.

She continued west through the grounds,
keeping a sharp eye out for Khalous, Pick, and Stoneman. She eyed
the monastery denizens going about their duties—lay servants
tending to the communal garden and hanging laundry, widows with
their children, orphans playing in the street.

After searching the outbuildings, including
the lay servants’ dormitory, Dana concluded that her quarter of the
grounds did not contain the hidden trophy. She slunk toward the
barn to meet the others out back.

When she rounded the corner of the stable
building she saw Clint prying aside one of the barn’s clapboards.
He wedged his wide frame through the opening, snagging his brown
pants for a moment, before disappearing inside.

Curious, Dana crept into the barn through
the same gap. Inside she saw Broderick and Clint conspiring near a
small brown wooden box secured with a padlock. The two boys had
found the trophy.

To Dana’s horror, the box hung suspended
above the floor by four ropes. Each rope was attached to a cowbell.
The whole contraption was one giant alarm waiting to go off if
anyone touched it.

Clint went to reach for the box when Brayden
appeared in an open window at the rear of the barn. He signaled for
Clint to stop.

“What?” Clint snapped, his voice rising.

Brayden pressed a finger to his lips and
shook his head.

Broderick, ignoring his brother, slapped
Clint on the arm, and gestured to the box. “Just do it,” he
whispered.

Dana remained crouched in the dark corner of
the barn, gritting her teeth in frustration at Broderick and Clint.
Her legs tensed, half wanting to spring out into the open and stop
them, but she knew that if she moved she risked giving away her
position.

“Just listen to Brayden,” Dana whispered to
herself. “Trust him.”

“You ready?” Clint asked.

Broderick crouched low in preparation to
sprint. “Ready.”

“Stop!” Brayden said.

Clint charged up to the box. He took one
mighty swing with his sword, splintering the wood into a hundred
pieces. All four bells blared. The trophy tumbled out—a silver
chalice. Broderick sprinted for the trophy, grabbed it, and dashed
for the open window where Brayden was watching, infuriated.

“You idiots!” he shouted.

“Run!” Clint said. “I’ll draw them off.” He
swung his sword at one of the ropes, rattling one of the bells
again.

The barn door burst open with Pick and
Khalous barging inside.

“Run, Broderick!” Clint yelled. He twirled
his sword and set his eyes on Pick, who was unarmed.

The young soldier was dressed in
leather-padded slacks and a close-fitting armored vest, spry and
quick. He shot forward into a low sweep kick that blew Clint’s
knees out from underneath him.

Dana never ceased to be amazed at how fast
Pick could move.

“Bloody bloody,” Pick chirped. He proceeded
to disarm Clint and pin him to the ground.

Dana turned her head to see if Broderick had
made it out the window. Instead she saw Stoneman slip out from his
hiding place in one of the horse stalls. He slammed Broderick in
the chest with the pole of a spear. The boy fell to the floor like
a sack of grain, sending the trophy clattering across the
floor.

“Incredible effort, you two,” Khalous said.
“What a big, dumb, incredible effort.”

Broderick shoved Stoneman’s spear out of his
face. “Get off me,” he said, rising to his feet.

Brayden vaulted through the window into the
barn. “I had the key, you halfwits!” he shouted.

“What?” Broderick said.

“What?” echoed Khalous.

Brayden tossed the Old Warhorse the key. “I
saw Lorne cutting it for you yesterday,” he said. “I saw you hide
it in the pocket of your tunic, so I figured I’d take it in case it
had anything to do with the challenge.”

“That’s quite an assumption, master
Brayden.”

“But genius,” Pick added.

Dana emerged from her hiding spot and walked
out into the main room to watch the inevitable argument between
Brayden and Broderick unfold. Their bickering was becoming so
common that even predicting their spats was a bore.

“You had the key and you didn’t tell me?”
Broderick said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with
you
?” Brayden
shot back. “Do you understand nothing that we’re doing here?”

“Yeah, trying to win.”

“Once again completely missed the point of
this exercise.”

“Oh, do tell.” Broderick’s tone reeked with
sarcasm.

“Teamwork,” Brayden said. “Trust. Silence.
Stealth. Not everything needs to be solved by smashing and running
like some barbarian jackdaw. Do you ever just stop to think for two
bloody seconds?”

“You just like to solve everything on your
own,” Broderick said. “Have to have all the glory, don’t you?”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? You kept that key a secret so you
could be the one to open the case. Always have to be the big
hero.”

“All right,” Khalous said. “That’s
enough.”

“But you don’t have the courage to become a
hero, do you?” Broderick continued.

“What?”

“You’re a coward, Brayden. Always have
been.”

Dana looked at her brother’s face and saw
the toll of Broderick’s words.

“You blame me for smashing and running,
acting before I think,” Broderick said, “but the fact is you never
act at all because you’re just too scared.”

“That’s enough,” Khalous said again.

“You’re a self-centered jerk, you know
that?” Brayden said.

“And you’re every bit the spoiled prince
that—”

“I SAID ENOUGH!” Khalous bellowed. He
pointed a finger at Broderick and then waved it over toward
Brayden. “You’re both a couple of stubborn asses.”

Dana sniggered. The Old Warhorse wasn’t
wrong.

Broderick folded his arms. He started to
protest, but Khalous continued.

“Brayden, there is a leader in you
somewhere. You want your team to trust you? Then you need to trust
your team, and sometimes that means working with whatever decisions
they make whether you agree with them or not.”

He wheeled on Broderick. “And you! You
criticize your brother for wanting all the glory, but that’s only
because you’re so obsessed with getting it yourself.”

Broderick stormed out of the barn, slamming
his fist into the door as he went and splitting the wood of one of
the boards.

Khalous inhaled a deep breath, shaking his
head. He lifted a hand to his whitening beard and paced away in
deep contemplation.

Pick let Clint off the floor. Dana watched
him rise to his feet, snarling as he brushed himself off. He threw
an impudent glance at the others and then thumped out of the
barn.

Khalous walked up to Brayden. Lowering his
voice, he said, “I like the way you use your head. You’re a careful
thinker. You’ve a mind for strategy. But you need the trust of your
team. You need to make a stand, boy. Learn to take control. Find a
way to bring them together or you’re going to lose them all.” He
motioned toward the floor and the shattered box. “Get things
cleaned up, then join us in the dining hall.”

The captain left along with Pick and
Stoneman, leaving Dana and Brayden behind.

Brayden exhaled through puffed cheeks as he
ran his fingers through his long brown hair. While he paced away
from her she could see the frustration seeping off his
shoulders.

“I don’t wish to speak ill of our father,”
Dana began, “but it’s his fault, not yours.”

“What is?”

“Father always lavished you with attention
and instruction. What did he give to Broderick? A cold shoulder?
Disinterest?”

Brayden scowled at her. “No. Father never
did that.”

“Perhaps you didn’t notice, but Broderick
was always trying hard to steal some of father’s attention away
from you.” She gestured toward the open barn doors. “Have you
noticed how well they’ve bonded?”

“Broderick and Clint?”

“They spend more time together than anyone.
Clint has become Broderick’s alternative to… well…” She stopped,
not wanting to say it.

“Me.”

Dana stayed quiet.

A moment later, Brayden asked, “Why? I don’t
understand. What’s Broderick see in him that—”

“Strength,” Dana said. “It’s the wrong kind
of strength, but he sees power in Clint. He needs to see that from
you, Brayden. So do the others. Khalous is right, they need to know
they can trust you.”

Brayden looked defeated as he wandered over
to a wall of tools and picked up the broom. He went about sweeping
up the mess of splintered wood in silence. Dana helped him cut down
the ropes and put away the cowbells.

When they were done, Brayden slipped away.
Dana decided to give him some space and left him alone.

Dana went to the chapel. She wandered
through the columned cloister off the west wing that encircled a
lush green flower garden. The summer was almost over—her third
summer on Efferous. It would be autumn again soon and the
surrounding hills would unleash a splendorous chorus of color.

Normally Dana would spend her afternoons in
the kitchen helping the servants prepare the evening meal for the
residents of Halus Gis. However she had been spending less time
there as her commitments to Khalous’ training took over her life.
Her days had become filled with running and stretching, climbing,
horse riding, and exhausting archery drills. More often than not
she went to bed filthy, sweating, and bearing a good-sized bruise
or two. Her body had grown leaner though, her legs had
strengthened, and her fingers had toughened from plucking her
bowstring.

But a part of her missed her afternoons in
the chapel, picking food from the garden, preparing meals, and
tending to the children. It reminded her of simpler days in
Aberdour when her mother would sit with her by the castle hearth
and show her how to sew a patch into a leather coat, or stitch art
into fabric. Lilyanna had taken great pride in grooming Dana for a
life as a wife and mother. She had even given her singing and
dancing lessons, and though Dana’s voice lacked any sort of musical
potential, her dancing had made her graceful and surefooted, a
trait she was glad for today.