A Sellsword's Will: Book Five of the Seven Virtues by Peppers Jacob

Author:Peppers, Jacob [Peppers, Jacob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Twenty-One

Aaron stood in the doorway, watching silently as Caleb, Michael, and Gryle sat on the floor of Gryle’s room in the castle, dozens of small, toy soldiers scattered around them. The two boys talked in excited voices as they moved their troops. For the moment at least, they seemed to have forgotten about their loss, of the hole that the old woman, Beth, had left in their lives when she died. For now, they were only children playing and laughing together. Aaron watched them with a burgeoning wonder intermingled with sadness. Such days, such moments, he knew, were all too uncommon, and all too quick to pass.

It is good, to see them so, Co said.

Yes.

Grinning, Michael moved one of his troops—a small toy soldier on a small toy horse—forward, knocking over one of Caleb’s men. The thirteen year old boy, possessor of the Virtue of Intelligence and, therefore, probably the smartest person alive, groaned and fell backward as if slain himself, and Michael burst into laughter, jumping on top of him. The two wrestled, and despite the obvious difference in size and strength, it wasn’t long before Michael sat atop a defeated, but laughing, Caleb. Aaron watched them, unaware of the small smile on his face, not daring to move lest he should break the spell of the moment.

Finally, the boys finished their impromptu wrestling match, and took their seats once more, out of breath and grinning. “Your turn, Gryle,” Michael said.

The chamberlain started. “So soon?” he asked. He glanced to Caleb as if hoping for salvation, but the youth only nodded, clearly struggling to suppress a grin.

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

The chamberlain swallowed hard and nodded, studying the arrayed troops before him with deep concentration. The two boys shared an amused look as Gryle reached toward first one figure, then another, always bringing his hand back, as if unsure. Finally, the chamberlain hesitantly moved a small, toy archer forward, glancing at the two boys for approval.

Caleb nodded thoughtfully. “A very wise move, sir,” the youth said, his grin widening. “Unless I do this.” Then he moved his own troops—two toy horses and riders—forward, knocking over the groaning chamberlain’s archers.

Gryle sighed heavily, shaking his head. He started to say something but before he could, the two youths leapt forward, tackling him, and in another moment they were all laughing and wrestling on the ground. Aaron listened to the childish laughter intermingled with the chamberlain’s own, and thought that he had never heard anything so fine. Then thoughts of the coming battle, always in the back of his mind, rose to the surface, and his smile slowly faded. He hoped they would have many more such moments. He hoped their grief would leave them be, and that they would continue to find pleasure in each other’s company. But, most of all, he hoped he would not have to watch them die.

It is time, Aaron, Co said into his mind, the council gathers.

Aaron nodded, studying the three for one more moment before turning and walking away.

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