Read A Sword Of Wrath, Book I: Blood And Dust Page 8


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  Severus hefted the crying infant into the air to the cheers of the villagers of Two-Crows. It had been eight days since the birth of his son but as was customary among the Cavalli he hadn't been allowed to see him until just before that moment, when Nona had exited the Birthing Lodge. Then, according to tradition, the two of them were given space to themselves to confer on a name while the other villagers gathered around and lit a bonfire.

  As the air around them soon filled with celebration over the new birth, more of the villagers joined in the gathering, bringing food and ale from their own pantries in order to prepare a large makeshift feast for Nona and the new baby. Live births were very rare among the Cavalli, so when one occurred, they celebrated that new life with relish.

  "Marcus!" Severus shouted above the music and cheers, still holding the infant up for all to see. "This is Marcus, the son of Severus, the Giant-Killer, of the village of Two-Crows! He will one day carry my sword into battle!" A new cheer rose up from the crowd as his wife appeared radiant beside him.

  Tacitus, meanwhile, stood just outside of the revelers, in the shadows a little ways away from his own lodge. He watched the others dance and sing before the large fire and around the many tables that were filled to overflowing with hunted game and root vegetables, which lined the area. He smiled wistfully upon the celebration, remembering the exuberance over the birth of his own daughter only a generation before.

  "Uncle?" He heard a tiny voice call out to him and looked down to find his five-year-old niece, Aelia, tugging on his breeches. Her red hair was wild and unkempt, for she disliked letting her mother put it into braids, which caused it to form a strange sort of tangled scarlet halo around her cherubic face.

  "Aelia, what are you doing over here?" He knelt down beside her. "You should be out there with your mother, celebrating your baby brother's naming!"

  "No," she shook her head emphatically.

  "Why?"

  "I don't want to. I don't like him," her voice took on a surprisingly serious tone for such a young child.

  "Who? The baby?"

  "Yes," she answered sullenly.

  "But, why?"

  "Because," her eyes started to shine in the moonlight, "he's a boy. And I wanted be a boy! And it's not fair because I'm not one!"

  Tacitus laughed, "Oh, Aelia, that's nothing to be sad about-"

  "It is! Because father will teach him to fight with a sword and not me! I just know it!" She stomped her foot angrily, then started to cry.

  "Ohhhh," Tacitus reached out tenderly and held her to his chest. "Now, don't cry, Aelia. That's such a silly thing to cry over!"

  "No, it's not."

  Tacitus grimaced, unsure of what to say to the small girl to make her feel better, "Have you told your father that you want him to teach you?"

  "No," she sniffed as her crying eased slightly, "but I told Mother and she told me girls don't fight with swords! Only boys! I hate the baby! I hate him so much! It's not fair!"

  "No, no, no, shhh," he held her again. "Don't say such things, Aelia. Your brother will need you in the future, so you shouldn't say such a horrible thing. And you know what? You shouldn't worry about swords and fighting right now, either. You worry about Marcus and your mother and I'll talk to your father for you."

  "Really?" She sniffed again and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her tunic.

  He nodded, "Yes, really. You leave it to me. I'll try to talk to him tonight, even. Now, go and celebrate, Aelia, and be proud of your little brother; he is yours for all eternity to protect and love. Do you think you can handle such a big responsibility?"

  She grinned a giant grin at her uncle, which revealed a missing front tooth as she nodded.

  "Good girl! Now, go to your mother and father, they will miss you soon!"

  Aelia gave him another toothless grin and then sprinted back off in the direction of the celebrations.

  Across the way, Severus handed his son, still screaming at the top of his lungs, over to Nona, then kissed the top of her head.

  "Are you pleased?" she asked, swaddling the infant whose cries began to fade almost immediately in her arms.

  "I am, my lady. You have done well, yet again. There aren't many women of the Cavalli that can say they have two healthy living children!"

  She laughed, "Yes, and I will do everything in my power to make it stay that way!"

  He smiled back, warmly, "I know you will, my lady, I know you will."

  They looked at each other for only a moment, sad smiles touching their lips while hours of conversation passed between the two of them even as no words were spoken.

  Nona laughed again to break their silence, "Alright, my husband, now go and get yourself some ale! It is a celebration after all!"

  He nodded, "Yes, it is, my lady! And tonight I will drink my fill!"

  Severus left his wife's side and made his way towards one of the many tables that now surrounded them. He grabbed a wooden mug full of ale and took a giant swig. As he did he caught the figure of Tacitus above the rim, watching the festivities from the shadows. He drained the cup quickly, then crossed the village center to greet his brother.

  "Hullo, Tacitus, you can join us, you know?"

  He nodded politely, "I know."

  Severus gave his brother a hardy slap on the back, "My son, he's big, huh?"

  "Yes, he is. You should be very proud. He'll make a fine swordsman one day, my brother."

  "By the gods, I hope so!"

  "Father would be pleased."

  He nodded solemnly, "I hope he would. I never thought I would have a son, or any child for that matter, and I was afraid that the Order would never rise again. Now, though, Tacitus, now it will live again! I just hope I can find the recruits I need."

  Tacitus paused a moment, gathering his courage to say what needed to be said, "Uh, Severus, I - um, I - what about Aelia?"

  "What about her?" Severus gave his brother an odd look.

  "I mean, I know it's not my place but, I... I think Aelia would make a fine swordsm-er, ah, woman. You've practically taught her since birth to wield that little wooden dagger of hers."

  "A swords wo -Aelia? Really?" he looked surprised. "I've... never thought about it before but, by the gods, I think you're right, Tacitus!" He laughed, "All this time I've been worried that the Order would have no members until my son came of age - and I have had its first recruit under my roof the whole time! How could I be so blind?"

  "She definitely has your determination!" Tacitus laughed.

  Severus nodded, "Very true! And her mother's temper!"

  Tacitus face fell slightly at the mention of Nona but he covered it with a smile, "Yes, well, I-I think it's a brilliant idea! Although..."

  "Although, what?"

  "Well, the idea may not be well received among our brothers and sisters of Two-Crows."

  Severus scoffed, "Ah, well, when has anything we've ever done been well received among these people?"

  "Yes," Tacitus nodded, "that is very true."

  "Well, I should probably get back but, Tacitus," he looked at his younger brother, "just know that you are welcome to join us. You are always welcome and forever will be."

  He gave Tacitus one last hardy pat before returning to join his family in the festivities. As he turned away, Tacitus could see the scars that were upon Severus' back peeking out from beneath his shirt and snaking up the sides of his neck.

  Tacitus' eyes fell to the ground as he was suddenly awash in a flood of remorse at the sight of them. It had been years since his brother had been forced to carry his shame but the rawness of the debt was always there, just under the surface and no amount of sacrifice on his part would ever be enough to repay his brother.

  Tacitus turned away from the celebration and walked towards his home and the one thing in the world that would never judge him: his pony, Bellona. He greeted her as he began to brush her coat, "Ah, Bellona, at least I can do right by you, huh, girl?" He spoke aloud to her as he conti
nued to brush, "And then, one day, I will show them all that I am worthy again. Well," he laughed slightly, "at least as soon as I start to believe it myself."