The Chosen One: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Airluds Trilogy Book 2) Page 10

  I closed my eyes and drank in the emotion, which felt like silk and smelled like hyacinth. 'I know. And isn't that incredible.'

  Chapter Twelve

  AIRSHA

  Life went back to normal. Or what passed for normal for us. We worked with the airlings and, as I reached the sixth moon cycle of my pregnancy, the thirty raw airlings had all been gentled to carry weights and many to carry humans. We had also arranged for the harvest of grasses in the areas Calun had located. Our barns were now overflowing with bales that would hopefully see the nearly forty airlings currently residing with us through the winter.

  The temperature had been steadily dropping over the last moon cycle. Not cold enough for snow, but the nights were now chilly and the days crisp. It was the best time of the suncycle as far as I was concerned. Even in the harem I had appreciated the mellowness of the climate in early Spring and early Winter.

  A slow trickle of rebels had begun to arrive in the last mooncycle too. Mostly young men considered not strong enough to wield a weapon against a grown opponent. Rather than turn all these boys into camp assistants they were picking the most flexible and courageous as possible candidates for airling troopers. I had made it very clear to Moyna in my last missive that riders had to have a certain mindset. They had to be willing to see themselves as owned by their airling, not the other way around. Even the most courageous and flexible of youths could fail the entry test if they saw themselves as superior to the creatures who were willing to carry them.

  Darkin had taken on the role of trainer. He took the first group of youths to arrive and taught them the basics: from the airlings' births in eyries in the mountains below Highlund, to their grazing patterns on the plains and even their mating habits. From Calun's insights, he was able to explain their way of thinking, so the recruits could adjust to the airling's perception of the world. But even that wasn't enough to make it into the airling troops.

  Once he had given them a basic introduction, Darkin started introducing the youths to the raw airlings. As a group they helped accustom the beastlings to weights on their backs. As this process went on it became apparent when an airling found his or her rider. The beastling would often wander away from the flock when they saw the youth they wanted. My husbands were on the look-out for just such an event. When it happened, though the rider didn't even know it had happened, the lad passed the entry test.

  After the period of acclimation, the youths would be told whether they passed or failed. If a youth was not singled out by an airling in the flock he was told he had failed the test and to consider returning for the next intake. We planned to begin training the next thirty airlings, or as many as answered the Goddess' call, as soon as the current airlings had all found their riders and started their intensive training for war.

  Flea, of course, had a head-start on the others. And a young male she named Spot had befriended her not long after she returned from rescuing Calun. It had surprised me that a male chose Flea. As a girl, I had expected a female to feel more at ease with her. But then, what did I know? I was the only other female airling rider. And I had been given to Bay by Calun.

  It had been decided that Flea should remain in disguise as a boy. If at any time we had an influx of girls, then she could join them. But for now she was a boy, the Airluds' cousin, who slept up at the big house and kept a distance between 'himself' and the other lads, to minimise the chances of discovery. But this still caused problems with the other recruits.

  The youths all bunked down in the new dormitory. That makeshift building had hastily been constructed to accommodate them when they first started trickling in. Part of their duties included building more dormitories and making their own space more habitable. Though most of the lads had lived their lives without amenities like indoor plumbing and feathered pallets, they happily worked to improve their creature comforts. But they resented the special treatment Flea seemed to get.

  An us-against-him mentality had established itself amongst the new recruits. She was seen as having airs and graces. Because she was younger than most of them, they resented that she was further along in her training than they were, and knew things they didn't.

  One morning I had gone in search of Jaron. As I passed the dormitory, I heard shouts and jeers coming from inside. I knew that sound. Hadn't I experienced it first-hand when I took my brother's place amongst the youths-in-training? Picking up my pace, I headed toward the sound, hoping not to find one of the bigger lads picking on one of the smaller ones. That would be enough to have the bully ejected from the program immediately. And I didn't want that to happen. I quite liked all the lads who had joined us so far. Certainly, a few were rough around the edges, but Dark and the others could easily smooth them out.

  What I found when I entered the large common room surprised me. Flea stood nose-to-nose with a much larger lad, her fists clenched tight at her sides. Not only was Ratch taller and older than Flea, but hard work had matured his muscles early. It surprised me he hadn't been accepted by the regular army. He was certainly big enough.

  The lads were expected to keep their hair neat, clean and free of fleas and lice. It was one of the rules they most resented. Ratch was clearly rebelling. Though his black hair looked clean enough, it was knotted in locks the way I'd seen some Eastsealunders wear it. Small shells and beads had been woven into the style and I had to wonder how hard it would be to keep those knots vermin free. My hands itched to set shears to it.

  My thoughts were drawn away from the vermin hazard when Flea yelled, "You take that back, you bastard!"

  "Why, it's true. He's a dummy. That's what he is. Why do you care? You his special boy? Is that why you get to live up at the big house and own your own airling already."

  "I don't own my own airling. My airling owns me! Haven't you got that basic lesson yet? Are you that stupid? And Calun's no dummy. And I'm not his special boy. Not like you mean. He's married to the Goddess. Weren't you listening when they all introduced themselves?" she sneered.

  Hearing her stand up for Calun was no surprise. Hearing her acknowledge his relationship with me with such force, not to mention giving me the title of Goddess, which she had previously avoided, was. I couldn't help feeling reassured. Since Calun and I had cleared the air, I had been far less territorial where he was concerned. And Flea had done the same. It was as if we each now accepted our place in my silent husband's life and respected it.

  I brought my attention back to the scene playing out before me. Eleven of the lads, including Ratch, seemed to be against Flea as they surrounded her. But one boy, a lad not much taller than she was, and much skinnier, stayed on the periphery. His name was Zem and he thought he was fifteen suncycles old.

  Zem had drawn my eye from the first. Not only because he was half-starved and weak with ill-health, but because of the hollow look in his brown eyes. When Rama had questioned his fitness to try out for the program, Calun and I had stood up for him.

  "You don't need to be strong to ride an airling, though it helps with the day-to-day care of them, I know," I'd pointed out at one of our informal meetings in bed soon after Zem turned up at our door. "And a few weeks of eating well will make all the difference to him."

  Rama had remained unconvinced until Calun had sided with me. Only then did he grumble out his approval. In the last half moon since then the lad had put on a little weight and lost his pasty skin-tone. But the hollowness in his eyes remained, like a small beastling that had been kicked too many times by too many people to be able to trust anyone again.

  I'd also noticed he was not a follower like the others. And certainly no leader. Whatever life had handed him, it had turned him into a loner. Which made me think him perfect airling rider material, though mayhap not a trooper. Calun and I had discussed it − the only way I could label the way we shared ideas uppermost in our minds − and felt that he would suit being a scout rather than an actual trooper. Being able to work unsupervised for days at a time, as he gathered information on the enemy's where
abouts and numbers, was a very specific and valued ability.

  Again, I found myself drawn from my contemplations by the drama unfolding before me. No one had yet caught sight of me standing partially hidden in the open doorway, which made it perfect to observe the recruits when they were not trying hard to impress us.

  "Oh, come on. We all know that marriage is just for appearances. A Goddess has to have lots of consorts. But it doesn't mean they're all sharing her bed, and not fucking anyone else. Especially a prime little arse like yours."

  Ratch's leer had my stomach turning, and I almost stepped in. Clearly, this lad needed to go. But if I intervened it would make Flea's life even harder. Just looking at the way the recruits were lined up against her now showed me that. Hadn't I learned my lesson with Airshin? Fighting Flea's battles for her wouldn't do her any good, long-term.

  So I bided my time, waiting to see just how far this would go. If Flea got hurt I would definitely step in, but I'd taught her a few of the skills I'd learned among the Godling's youths-in-training, so I expected she'd be able to hold her own.

  "Noticed my arse have you? What does that make you?" she threw back at him, her smirk making the other boys suddenly change sides. It was a slow shift, one after another. Were they all suddenly wondering if Ratch had been looking at their butts and evaluating them lecherously?

  "You little snot!" Ratch yelled, throwing a punch at Flea's sneering face. She ducked out of the way just in time.

  "Leave off!" Zem snarled, stepping in to stand at Flea's side. "You're just jealous because he's their cousin. It's not Flea's fault they're related or that he's been here longer than us."

  Flea looked at him, her mouth dropping open. I could see her desire for independence warring with her need for backup. She must have become only too aware in the last few minutes that she was surrounded by yelling, jeering lads far stronger than she was. Is this what it had been like when she was discovered to be a girl by her gang? Is that what was going through her mind in that moment? Zem was no Beyen, but he was better than being alone.

  "You leave off yourself, squirt! You think you can take me, skinny runt like you?" Ratch sneered, annoyed not only that his punch had missed its mark but because he was losing his hold over the raucous crowd.

  My gaze still on the bully, I only saw Zem out of the corner of my eye. He moved in toward Ratch and then out again − fast. I wasn't the only one who was shocked to then see Ratch suddenly bent over, holding his belly and moaning. Had Zem punched him? I hadn't seen the blow.

  Flea must have, because she turned her admiring gaze on her new partner. "Where'd you learn to do that? You're better than Airsha."

  "Airsha can fight?" Zem asked in interest.

  "Sure. She's taught me some moves, and she'll teach them to the recruits who pass, too."

  Ratch had recovered and seemed inflamed to have been bettered by a much smaller lad and, adding insult to injury, to discover he'd lost the attention of his targets. As if he was not worth worrying about anymore. He barged at both Zem and Flea with a roar, ready to plough into them both with outstretched arms.

  Though Zem and Flea had seemed totally engrossed in their conversation, they quickly stepped out of Ratch's way. Zem stuck out his foot for good measure, sending the bully into a graceless falling slide that ground his face into the hard-packed dirt floor.

  The rest of the lads loved it. They cheered Zem and jeered Ratch. How fast followers could turn against their self-proclaimed leader. I'd seen it myself many times in the harem and amongst the youths-in-training.

  "You two are going to be really sorry!" Ratch yelled, turning on his side so he could nurse his sore face. His chin and nose were red from gravel rash.

  "No, that would be you who'll be sorry," I said, stepping in, finally feeling that it was safe to make my presence known, "as it is clear you are not suitable to be an airling trooper."

  All eyes were on me as I stepped closer. The whispers and elbowing started up immediately, but I ignored them. Some of these lads were almost as old as I was, yet I felt like their mother. It was absurd.

  "Why?" came the sulky challenge. Ratch's nose had started bleeding and he wiped at it with the sleeve of his tunic. He looked a pitiful sight. But I felt no sympathy for him.

  "First, we do not allow bullying or fighting amongst the recruits. Second, we don't allow sexual comments about your trainers or your peers. Third, we do not take threats lightly.

  "You will gather your possessions and be on your way. Bertil will give you enough food and water to get you back to the closest town. I am told on good authority that the walk can be done in a couple of days. If you go now you'll have plenty of daylight to make a good start on your journey."

  "But that's not fair! Zem hit me first and you just give Flea special treatment. We all think so. He doesn't even have hair. What did he do to get cropped? Something bad, I bet."

  "I saw what happened. You attempted to hit first. If Flea hadn't avoided your punch, you would have struck the first blow. As to Flea's 'special treatment' as you call it. She...ooowing up early is all he's guilty of. Flea arrived here several months ago and has had an opportunity to learn sooner than the rest of you. That's all. And Flea's hair looked a lot like yours, Ratch, when he..." I didn't make the same near-mistake a second time. "... first arrived, so I cropped it so he could keep it vermin free. You can see it as lucky you were thrown out before I had the chance to do the same to you."

  There were quite a few sniggers, even from Flea. But Zem was still glaring at his fallen opponent, not willing to believe he was going to stay down so easily.

  He was right. With a string of colourful oaths, Ratch clambered to his feet and strode over to me, getting in as close as possible without actually touching my distended belly. Ratch had been a good deal taller than Flea, who was taller than me, so this act of intimidation forced me to look up at him. His smell almost knocked me back a step, but I held my ground.

  "You think you're really something, don't you? The Goddess' Chosen One. But you're just the Godling's cast-off daughter. Taking four husbands doesn't make you a Goddess. It doesn't make you anything but a high-class whore. You're going to fail and I'm going to be there when the Godling puts you to death. And I'll be cheering as it happens."

  The gasps and nervous tittering showed Ratch's temper had pushed him too far. Every lad here was a loyal rebel who believed in their cause. To even suggest that the rebellion would fail was tantamount to traitorous blasphemy.

  Flea came in from the side, slamming her knuckles into Ratch's temple. His head flew to the side and he dropped like a rock.

  "Nobody disrespects Airsha like that. Nobody!" Flea snarled down at the bully, who lay stunned but conscious on the ground. I hadn't taught her that move. It was the one she had used on the guard who'd held Calun, so she knew it would work. Although her knuckles were not a rock, and they must be severely sore now. I noticed her rubbing them surreptitiously, not wanting the others to know she was hurt.

  "My thoughts exactly." Rama's deep, cold voice from behind me sent shivers down my spine. "And nobody threatens my wife. Airsha was being generous offering you sustenance for your journey. My generosity only extends to giving you a quarter turn to be away from here, with water only, and the promise not to beat you bloody. Any longer than that and you'll be crawling back to town. If the predatory beastlings let you get that far, that is. They love fresh blood."

  Rama could have taught Ratch something about intimidation. He'd moved past me as he spoke and now stood over the lad, fists on hips, staring down at him with a look that would have left a seasoned fighter weak at the knees. And I had no doubt my husband would make good on his threat. I knew what he did to those who threatened his loved ones. He was being generous with his offer.

  Ratch scrambled backwards on his butt and, once far enough from Rama, clambered to his feet, shoulders hunched, face a mask of fury and terror. When he didn't move fast enough, Rama lunged at him. The bully's fall from grace was compl
ete when he fearfully made his escape at a shambling run.

  "What was that all about?" Rama demanded, once the target of his fury was gone.

  "Flea came in to give one of the lads a message from Calun," Zem answered, his voice trembling, yet firm enough to be heard. "Ratch didn't think he had a right to be here, because we can't go up to the big house except to eat. So he started in on him about being Calun's... Well, it doesn't matter." He blushed.

  Rama let him off from further accounting by turning to me. "And you, wife? How did you end up with a lad twice your size standing over you, talking about dancing on your grave."

  "Actually cheering. He was going to cheer when the Godling killed me."

  Rama swore in disgust. "Same thing. Have you any idea how dangerous that lad is?"

  "Have you any idea how dangerous I am?" I threw back with amusement.

  "You're with child. He could have hurt you and the babe. Do not −"

  I was not about to have my husband dress me down in front of a dozen greedy eyes. "Not now, Rama."

  Something in my tone had him realising his mistake. He lowered his head. "You are right of course, Goddess. I beg your pardon. I was just worried about you, that's all."

  "I understand. Flea? I think you need to get up to the big house. The rest of you have chores." The other lads couldn't get out of the room fast enough. They were all terrified of Rama, and not just because of his temper. His scarred face was the stuff of nightmares.

  "And Zem?" I said, as he prepared to follow the others from the room. "You did well. You took a stand beside a fellow recruit who was outnumbered. That was courageous."

  "And skilled. Did you see him land that punch to the gut?" Flea crowed enthusiastically.

  "I did indeed. I think the rebel army lost out when they didn't accept you," I replied with a laugh.

  "I wanted to come. I've always dreamed of flying. When I heard about the airling army a couple of moons ago, I couldn't wait to sign up," Zem told us shyly, blushing right to the tips of his ears.