Abendau's Heir (The Inheritance Trilogy Book 1) (12 page)

He started to jog again. Dim lights from the road running between the base and barracks punctured the shadows from time to time. He was utterly drained, hungry and thirsty, his shoulders aching, but he concentrated on each step, each single step, one after the other, on and on through the jungle.

The path evened out as he reached the practice ground. He shrugged the pack off and leaned forward, hands on his knees. The ground swam under him, and for a moment he was sure he’d either pass out or throw up, but his vision cleared. He took a deep breath and straightened. Stitt stepped out of the darkness and handed him a bottle of water which he took and drank deeply from.

“I don’t want a repeat of your cheating,” she told him.

Kare nodded and wiped his mouth. “Ma’am.” His voice was small, but he didn’t care. Frankly, it was a miracle he had the strength to speak.

“Put away your pack. Consider yourself dismissed.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

He saluted and she left him to take his pack to the shelter and set it with the others before making his way to the empty dorm. He
smiled when he saw a sandwich sitting on his bunk. He’d have to thank Silom later.

He sank onto the bed and picked up the sandwich. A note sat on his pillow– IN REC-ROOM–
but he was too tired to get up again. Instead, he finished the sandwich and lay back. He had no idea how long he slept, but when he woke, the room was dark. At the sound of the other recruits returning, he turned onto his side. Someone kicked the end of his bunk and hands grabbed him, pulling him from his bed, ripping sleep away.

He tried to get away, but whoever it was held him firmly. He twisted, but it made no difference. He went to flex his power, but remembered Eevan’s warning– using it against a person was bound to mean more than a couple of weeks washing floors. His head was pulled back. He tried not to show how scared he was, but could hear his harsh breaths and knew his attackers would, too.

A fist hit his stomach, forcing the breath from him. Someone else backhanded his face, cracking his nose, and he cried out at the pain. The hands holding him let go and he crashed to the ground. He tried to crawl to the corridor, but a kick sent him sprawling. The shadow of another boot came at him, and when it impacted with his chest there was another crack and a spear of pain. He screamed, hoping someone– anyone– was in the barracks and could hear him. He rolled into a ball, protecting his head. More kicks came, on the small of his back and across his shoulders. Blood ran down his throat, choking him. “Stop,” he pleaded, the word muffled. Another kick. Another. Each thud was just a spark of pain, distant now.

“Enough,” said a new voice. “Leave him alone.”

The boots stopped kicking.

“Fuck off, Dester,” said one of the voices.

“You fuck off, Ashe. You’ve made your point. Now leave him alone.” There was a pause. “Unless you want to take me on, instead. I’m up for it, come on ahead.”

Kare lay, not sure he’d be able to move, and wondered what was broken. His nose, definitely, and his ribs.

“Not tonight, Dester.”

Silom laughed. “You haven’t the balls to face someone your own size. Piss off, then.”

The boots left and arms under Kare's shoulders pulled him to a sitting position, and leaned him against the wall. Silom’s face blurred in and out. From him came joint waves of concern and anger. Anger, not just at the attackers but at Kare, for bringing more trouble onto himself.

“We need to get you to the doc,” said Silom.

“Wait,” croaked Kare.

“For what? Them to get a few mates and finish the job?” Silom reached up and turned on the light over Kare’s bed. He crossed his arms, appraising. “You’re in a right mess.”

“I can fix it,” Kare said. Silom's unspoken thoughts were right. This would bring more trouble, either from the recruits, or the Banned thinking he was divisive, that even in barracks he was a trouble-maker. He couldn’t afford to give a reason to get rid of him. Sweat broke out across his brow as he focused on his ribs, fusing them. The pain worsened as they shifted, but he forced himself to keep going, taking his time; if he didn’t get it right, they’d stay out of shape. A long groan left him as they straightened. He swallowed against a wave of nausea.

“You need a doctor,” said Silom. Kare couldn’t answer him, but he shook his head. The pain in his chest eased, and he was able to breathe.

He took a deep breath and thought about how his nose should look, dreading what he had to do. He started to straighten the bones. They crunched and ground against each other, bringing tears to his eyes.

“That’s gruesome,” Silom said. His voice sounded like it was far away.

“It’s fucking agony,” Kare gasped. If Karia had been here she’d have fixed it in seconds. He half expected her to appear, but she didn’t– that part of returning to base seemed to have stopped. He braced himself for one last effort, clenching his fists and, teeth gritted, forced his nose straighter until the pain ended.

“It’s not straight,” Silom said.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s okay. Makes you look tough.”

“Tough’s good.” He couldn’t face any more, not tonight. “Can you help me up?”

Silom held a hand out and Kare pulled himself up with it, onto his bunk. He started to shudder, and even when he wrapped his arms around himself, the shaking didn’t slow. His teeth chattered as he said, “T-thanks, Silom.”

“I noticed one of them checking me out before they left.” His anger seemed to have abated– he sounded more resigned than anything. “I figured I’d see what they were up to.”

“W - Who was it?”

“Ashe, Raj, Tommy and Chang.”

“Why?” asked Kare. Nothing was making any sense to him. “I haven’t said two w-words to them.”

Silom got off his bed, leaned down and touched a blood spot on the floor. He held his finger up. Kare looked at it. That was his blood, and it was all over the floor in huge droplets. He swallowed against the returning nausea.

“I suspect it’s their way of telling you they don’t like you.” Silom stood up. “I’m going to get a cloth.”

Kare sat, looking at the bloodstains, his body aching. He closed his eyes and remembered the hard boots coming for him. At the soft noise of movement, he looked up, expecting to see Silom. Instead, Lichio entered. He looked around the dorm, and then at Kare.

“You’re okay?” he asked.

Kare nodded.
Okay?
He guessed so. “Yes.”

Lichio came over to where Kare was sitting and looked at the blood on the floor. “I was told you weren’t.”

“You were told wrong,” said Kare, but he was shaking again.

Lichio sat down on Silom’s bed. “Do you want to tell me who it was?”

Kare shook his head. “Nothing happened.”

“I heard you had a couple of broken bones and a medic would be needed.” Lichio looked Kare up and down. “Now, you’ve obviously dealt with that– and I’m not going to take that further. To be honest, given the chance, I’d do the same. But I need to know who it was.”

Kare looked directly at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing happened, and if it did, it happened in the dark and I couldn’t see anyone. I’m fine.”

Lichio stood. “Your choice,” he said. “I can’t force you.” He rubbed his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “But, look… if you need someone to talk to, you know where I am.”

Kare stood too, relieved his legs were able to hold him. “I appreciate it. But really, nothing happened.”

Silom came in and Lichio moved towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Kare watched him go as Silom started to wipe the blood from the floor. He sank onto the bed and put his head back; three more weeks and he was through basic training and would be assigned a proper squad. It had to be better than this.

Lichio rapped on the door of his brother’s office, waiting until the low voice told him to enter. He stepped in and stood to attention.

“At ease.” Eevan leaned back in his soft chair. “I believe congratulations are in order. A lieutenant, no less. Sit down, why don’t you?”

Lichio sat and tried to ignore his heart jumping at the compliment, annoyed that his brother’s regard meant anything to him. Still, he smiled, not able to stop himself. “Thanks.”

"You wanted to see me?"

Lichio stretched his legs out– the pleasantries had been shorter than usual today. “Yes, thanks, sir. There was an incident in the barracks last night.”

“An incident?” Eevan picked up his data pad and opened it, his movements relaxed. “What sort of incident?”

“One of the new recruits got hurt.”

“Really? Which one?”

“Varnon.” Lichio paused, remembering the blood, the bed kicked out of place. “It wasn’t as severe as it first looked, but I thought you should know.”

A frown crossed Eevan’s face. “That’s lucky. Has he got steel skin, do you think, or did the boots miss?”

Lichio frowned, sure he hadn’t said how Kare had been injured.

“They got interrupted,” he said. He kept his focus on his brother, but Eevan’s face was impossible to read. “Varnon’s big mate stopped them. He was lucky.”

“Very. Do you know who they were, the attackers?”

Lichio shook his head. “No,
I
don’t.” He smiled, very slightly. “Do you?”

Eevan pointed his finger across the desk. “Your smart mouth’s going to get you into trouble, Lich.” He closed his data pad. “I don’t think there’s anything to report here. He cheated and these things cause a response sometimes. I trust this will go no further.”

Lichio sat a moment longer, remembering how shook up Kare had been, and then nodded. “No, I can see that it shouldn’t. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Did I hear something about you going to Corun?”

He smirked and Lichio struggled to keep his voice steady. “Yes, that’s right.”

“It’s a hellish place, you know. Let’s hope it’s a short placement.”

Lichio stood, wondering who had chosen Corun. Actually,
knowing
who had. Sometimes his brother was a hard person to like. “
Let’s hope so. May I leave, sir?”

“Go right ahead.”

He let himself out and stopped in the corridor. If Eevan had it in for Varnon, it wouldn’t stop here. And even if he wasn’t close to Varnon– hard to see how anyone could be when the bloke had a wall around him that screamed keep away– he didn’t envy anyone in the firing line of Eevan.

He wasn’t close to his brother, either– there were too many years between them– but he knew the dark anger behind the vicious attack, done from afar with the touch of a real bully.

He turned to leave. It was none of his business. In a couple of days he’d have left for Corun, and Kare Varnon would be someone else’s to look after. Except… Sonly had asked if he was Emperor material and, in truth, the answer was no. Not at all.

And yet, there was something about Varnon, a way of dealing with what came his way and getting on with it. He’d dealt with Stitt’s shit as well as anyone Lichio had seen and, whilst he’d been shaken up last night, he’d held himself together. He could be important to the Banned if they could bring that out of him: too important for Eevan to go too far with, and he damn nearly had last night.

He walked down the corridor and knocked on Colonel Rjala’s door. He must be mad, doing this. But he hated bullies. More than that, he couldn’t
stand
being told what to do, especially by Eevan.

“Come in!” The crisp voice made him automatically straighten and check his uniform.

He went into the familiar, sparse office. No plaudits on the wall here, to soften the sense of a desk in a barracks that could be moved at any time. The only personal touch was a single holo, in a small enough setting to be grabbed in a moment and shoved in a pocket. Behind the desk Colonel Rjala sat, her greying hair cropped close to her face, her blue eyes steady.

“Lichio,” she said. “Can I help you?”

Lichio walked over and she indicated for him to sit. “Ma’am,” he said. “May I speak off the record…?”

***

At the practice ground, Kare faced Ashe, and enjoyed a sense of satisfaction at his confused face. If he could complete the course, his day would go a long way to making up for the night before. Eevan might have been behind the beating– he was sure he had to be– but Ashe had no doubt been the ringleader of the attackers.

The whistle blew and he ran, clearing the hurdles easily. Grabbing the rope, locking his foot in it, he climbed the wall. He jumped down, slipped a little in the mud, and ran to the monkey bars, leaping and missing them. He stepped back, took a breath to settle himself, and tried again, this time catching the bar. Moving across, he still struggled, but the rhythm came a little easier. At the end he jumped into the water and gasped at the cold as he waded through.

When he stepped out, his boots were slippery and he took a moment to plan his climb. He started, planting every step before he took another, and was close to the top when his right foot slipped from its support. His left hand loosened, two fingers pulled back by the force, but he managed to hold on. He scrabbled with his foot, but there was only empty air. His right hand started to pull off the wall, and he tried again to find the support. This time his foot caught the edge of it, and he was able to steady himself. He curled his injured fingers back onto the handhold–
gods, that hurt–
and pulled himself to the top. His hands slipped into the sling, and he waited for the okay before launching into the long swoop to earth. Hell, it mightn’t have been graceful, or fast, but at least he’d finished.

He landed to the sound of clapping and looked up to see Lichio giving a slow round of applause. Kare walked over, cradling his injured fingers, and Lichio fell into step beside him.

“Well done, Karl.”

Kare raised an eyebrow. Lichio handed him a bunch of papers and Kare took them with his good hand; they were identification documents in the name of Karl Bell. He smiled.
An invisible man, just like I was an invisible boy.
“When do I go?”

“Transport’s ready. Silom - who’s now Simon - is already on board. If we have to hide you both, it’s safer having you in one platoon. The less who know, the less chance there is of a leak.”