97 (Rise of the Battle Bred) (2 page)

Zarastrid’s Log Day 37

The Year of Our Loch 107

Agnes surprised me; she challenged me to a game of the chesse. The other women have likewise shown astounding intelligence, considering they are mere females. They are still under isolation, however. The Coven of Lochs can barely keep their excitement in check. The women are healthy and show great promise. Typically the women of our acquaintance have lost most of their teeth by the age of twenty, and end up dying before they reach forty. Our select group still has their teeth and, more importantly, their spirit.

The Warlochs scoured the kingdom. Painstaking lists of genealogy were taken. Simple tests were created. For example, my Battle Loch Zeko, hid food in trees. Those hungry enough to climb were rewarded with bread…if they didn’t fall to their deaths from the height or by being stupid enough to go out on weak limbs.

The Warlochs paid particular attention to those single women or widows who were accused of being witches. Naturally none of them were actual witches; we made sure of that a century ago. But such women weren’t missed if they suddenly disappeared. Many were used to persecution as well.

Our girls appear to be blossoming in their cells. Given enough food, probably for the first time in their lives, they try to engage their captors in conversation. One or two of them have tried to seduce the guards. They have no idea that the guards are under threat of death if they so much as imagine sleeping with them. The females have a much broader purpose than the guards can even comprehend.

Provided they show no signs of disease or illness, the women will be vessels for the most important race of humans to ever have walked the earth. Besides us, of course.

Zainel
insists his potions are almost ready. The Warloch Coven is at the dawn of a new era of global rule. While the simpletons populate the earth and fill their days with drudgery and religion, we have been plotting and planning. Seats of government will be ours. The spoils of war, the lands of our choice. All nations will bow to us.

But I am getting ahead of myself. First we must cultivate the ground in which we will grow a race of powerful soldiers that will do our bidding.

This Agnes amuses me. Where did a fallen woman learn to play the chesse, a King’s game?   Once the period of isolation is over, perhaps I will amuse myself by granting her request.

I realized that too late, as I raised my eyes to his, and started at the deep brown of them gazing into my own.

I was not a vain girl. I knew I’d never be a model, and I thought my casual appearance was acceptable if not trendy.

My hair was light brown and wavy; I usually kept it in an elastic band at the base of my neck, and I wore clean neat clothes that were decidedly not the first stare of fashion. My eyes were gray, and I’ve been told they darken when I’m angry, but I was virtually never angry. I was average in shape…not too skinny, not too fat, and just…unremarkable in every way, especially when I compared myself to the bodacious curves and hair colors of the Ticks. But as I stupidly continued to stare into TDH’s eyes, I had this feeling that he liked what he saw.

I felt blood rush to my face; creeping up from my shoulders, collarbone, neck…I slinked down into the seat.

If I could change one thing about me, it would not be my slightly crooked teeth, or the queer bent to my nose, or the eyebrow that seems to be just the slightest bit curved higher than the other one...oh no. It would be the dang blush that I have absolutely no control over whatsoever, the blush that steals my dignity as it steals across my skin with nefarious abandon.

Crady yelped, “OMG! He’s staring at you and you are TOTES blushing! Stop it! Stop it right now, girl!”

I looked down at my book, feeling his gaze on me still. “Don’t you think I would if I could?” I murmured and closed my eyes and took several deep breaths.

Crady knew how I felt about the blushing, and she had this theory that if she yelled at me it would change the course of my thoughts, which caused it to begin in the first place. It didn’t work, but I loved her for trying.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, there came a shadow on the window. Crady sucked in a breath. I think I heard her say ‘oh em gee’ one last time and then she toggled the lever that lowered the window.

Was I just thinking that I loved her?  Because she was in deep crap right about now. I took a final deep breath and looked up. Way up. He was massive.

He stood with his thumbs hooked in his pockets. He was still looking at me with those hard brown eyes.

My senses were on full alert. I’m talking Fight or Flight kicked in and I swear I could feel my heart valves opening and closing, could hear the tiniest sound of Crady squirming in her vinyl seat, could smell the hint of his piney soap wafting in the window, and could see the striations of black, brown and gold in his irises.

“Hey,” I said, my voice husky in spite of trying to clear my throat first. Why was he staring at me?

He looked away from me, up at the school, then around the parking lot. He looked back at me, and kind of shrugged his wide shoulders.

I turned to look at Crady; I’m sure the disbelief was stark on my face.

She gestured with her hands as if pushing me, and nodded so briskly I thought maybe her neck would snap. She mouthed, ‘
Go with him!
’

“Um, yeah. Sure,” I said to her and zipped my book into my book bag and hefted it off the floor while reaching for the door handle. But Mr. TDH had already opened it, and I stumbled out of the car as if I had just learned to walk yesterday.

He grabbed my hand so that I didn’t do a total face plant, and steadily guided me until I found my feet.

“Thanks,” I said breathlessly.

Oh my word.

I did not just say something
breathlessly.
How embarrassing. I shook my head. I am not one of the Ticks; I do not need to be all ‘helpless female in distress’.

I swallowed and straightened my shoulders. “So, where are you from?”  I didn’t croak or squeak. I was cool. Cool as a cucumber. Thanks Mom. I ticked the phrase off my mental list.

“Out east,” He shrugged dismissively. “What’s your name?”  He asked me, his voice was deep and resonant.

I bet he had great projection. I didn’t do theater, but if he did, I would try out today.

“I’m Jane. Plain Jane,” I said what I usually do when I introduce myself. I didn’t even think about it anymore; it’s just the way I’ve always introduced myself. The new guy stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me full on.

His eyes darkened and his brows furrowed as he looked at me so intently I thought I might combust.

“Never plain,”

And t
hen the blushing commenced.
Curses!

I held his gaze, deciding the only way to overcome the blush was to pretend it wasn’t right now turning my skin as red as a sunburned butt. “Okay,” I said simply and kept walking. I looked over my shoulder at him. “What’s yours?”

“William,” He resumed walking alongside me.

“So, William,” I started. “Are you already registered and stuff, or do you need to go to the office first?”

“My dad registered me online. I just have to get my schedule.”

“Okay then. Follow me,” I said lightly. I felt my skin cooling; my stoicism was working; the blush was fading away. I could do this. And then I thought I heard him say something under his breath. To the ends of the earth?  I looked at him, but his attention was focused on the posters on the wall. I must have imagined it.

We resumed walking, me glancing at the posters, wondering what was so danged interesting about them that William was ignoring me now in favor of homecoming announcements, poorly rendered mascot drawings, and such titillating phrases as ‘Seniors Rule!’ With nothing else interesting to say to each other, I resigned myself to admiring him from afar.

His skin was dark, like he spent a lot of time outdoors. I couldn’t figure out where he got such cool clothes to dress his gigantic frame. His shoulders were so broad and it looked like he had muscles on his muscles. The white shirt pulled across his back, accenting his sculpted shoulders. His waist tapered into narrow hips. His jeans were clean, dark and stylish. He walked with the grace of someone much older than a high school kid. He didn’t have the sway and swagger of the football team jocks. He walked more like he was ready to run or something. Yeah, that was it. He looked ready. Ready for what, I could only wonder.

I got William settled at the office and left him there. I could only stand so much…so much…just, so much. I found Crady in the library. When she saw me, her eyes got as big as saucers and she stood up, letting books and papers fall to the floor. I approached her, feeling other eyes on me as well. I ignored the other library patrons and stopped at Crady’s table.

“Well?”  She drew out the word with pregnant expectation.

I smirked a little. “What?”

“Well, how hot is he?  Was my old man right, or what?”  Crady practically jumped up and down on her two-inch platform shoes that were modified sneakers.

Crady’s whole approach to fashion was: if it’s quirky, she likes it. So her stacked sneakers didn’t quite match her army urban camo crop pants didn’t quite match her fuzzy pink sweater with half sleeves didn’t quite match her turquoise butterfly headband. And yet, it worked for her. “What’s his name?  Where is he from?  Did he kiss you?”

“Crady!” I barked at her, then looked around at curious faces. I lowered my voice. “Geez-oh-Pete, Crady. What kind of oddball question is that?”  I sat down and plunked my book bag down on top of her textbooks. “His name is William and he’s from out east. That’s all I know.”

Crady rolled her eyes at me. “For goodness’ sake, Jane. Do I need to hold your hand?  Do you even know how to get the goods on somebody?  He practically begged you to marry him in the parking lot. In fact, where the heck is he?  How could you leave him?”  She looked over my shoulder first, then started muttering to herself as she pulled her books out from under my bag. “So hot. So fine. He asks her to lead him around like a puppy dog and she leaves him alone.”

“He did not ask me to marry him. Chill,” I told her. I glanced at the clock in the library and breathed deep of the smell of old paper. I had enough time to finish my reading before the first bell. Except that I’m pretty sure I read the same dang paragraph about fifteen times and then it was time to go to class.

English was first; I could count on Dietrich giving us a pop quiz and I was as ready as I was going to get. That is, until I saw Mr. TDH, er, William, sitting in
my
desk.

Zarastrid’s Log, Day 77

Year of Our Loch 107

The period of isolation is over. All 25 women are in excellent health. They are also in good spirits, as they have enjoyed more food than they’ve ever had access to in their entire lives. One guard didn’t believe us when we told him not to meddle with any of the girls. When he was discovered attempting to ravish one, Zeko ran him through with his forefinger. The Battle Loch is a ferocious soldier, yet strikes me as unstable at times. The show of protection over the women made them even more biddable and cooperative. Sometimes I wonder if they wouldn’t agree to the plan we have for them, but it has been voted by the Coven. We will not tell them of Malleus Bellicus.

Agnes continues to impress me. While the girls are pleasant and rounding out delightfully, Agnes remains aloof. She distrusts our motives. A very wise girl.

I couldn’t resist the impulse, and decided that it may be in the collective best interest to get in her good graces. She has the potential to be a leader among the women. She could very well sway them against us, if it suited her. Therefore I brought a table, an extra chair, and a chesse game to her new cell.

Here is the conversation we shared.

“You remembered,” She said to me with some amusement. She seemed most lively when I was around. Could it be she has an interest in me as a man?   The thought both amuses and terrifies me. I haven’t held a woman’s interest in two decades. The interest I have in them always fades after I’m through with them. Something about Agnes is different.

“Of course,” I told her.

“Of course,” She murmured. She seemed to be mocking me. She slowly approached the table as I set up the game. She held each piece reverently in her hands, turning them this way and that, admiring the handiwork. “They are very beautiful. Pieces of art.”

If I had a heart, it would have jumped at the huskiness in her voice. What possessed me to bring the
chesse game made of precious woods and gems?   The simple carved one would have served the purpose just as well. Was I trying to impress her?   She was just as impressed by a hearty meal. Yet her appreciation for true art struck a chord inside me.

“Are you going to finger all of the pieces, or choose a side?”   I asked her abruptly. She had the ability to get me off balance.

She smiled slowly. “I choose black.”

I looked at Mrs. Dietrich, admittedly a little panicked, and she spotted me from over her reading glasses. “Hi Jane! Don’t worry about your seat, just sit behind William,” She went back to her red pencil and stack of papers. I shuffled uncomfortably to my seat, not quite believing that William and I were in the same class. This was the Honors class, after all, and Mrs. Dietrich was pretty strict about whom she let in. I couldn’t decide if I was impressed or annoyed.

I nodded at him.

He glowered at me.

I looked down at my sensible tennis shoes. My
whole theory about fashion was that if it was easy to wash and wear, and everything matched everything else, and everything matched jeans, then I was good.

I sat and got out a sharp pencil. I could smell him. It was woodsy and a little sweaty and gosh darn it…very male smelling. How in the heck was I going to be able to pull off this quiz?  And then it hit me. William was kind of a dark mysterious figure. Heaven help me.

William turned around in
my
desk. “Thanks for taking me to the office,” He pretended that I hadn’t ditched him there.

I nodded at him. “Sure,” I tried a small smile too, since I didn’t really intend to come off as all snooty and prejudiced against new people. And in that vein, I realized I should try and make small talk. “So, are you pretty excited to be in a new place?”  Dumbest question of all time. I felt the blush start under my armpits. Dang it.

He gave me an odd half-smile. “Well,” He seemed to think over his answer.

“It’s my senior year in high school. We moved from a city of 350,000 to a town of about 7000. And the prettiest girl on campus ditched me at the office,” He stared at me meaningfully.

I wanted to melt into a puddle under my desk, but then it would look like someone peed their pants. Like Jimmy Kellogg did back in kindergarten on the first day of school.

He continued.

“I’d say on a scale of one to ten, I’m about a 9 for excited to have moved here,” Then he turned around as Mrs. Dietrich cleared her throat and announced the pop quiz.

Sarcasm much?  I thought to myself.

I may or may not have passed the pop quiz.

At lunch I met up with Crady again. I felt like a total heel but didn’t really know what to do to change things. I was sure I had screwed up any chance at a friendship with William. Crady was going to kill me, if only because my screw-up would have ruined any of her chances to get to know him better too.

She stared me down until I sat my tray on the table. “Spill it. Now,” She said.

I blew air out of my mouth and opened my milk. After a long swig, I turned to her. “I think he’s royally pissed at me.”

“Who is?”  A low timber asked from behind me. I’m sure my eyes must have popped out of my sockets judging by the expression on Crady’s face.

I mouthed
William
?  Crady nodded slowly.

I turned the other way. “You.”

He gave an indelicate snort, although there was nothing delicate about this paragon of male virtue. “Maybe,” He sat his two trays down and then himself.

He was enormous sitting right next to me. His shoulders were as broad as my mom’s recliner. He was a full head taller than I, and I glanced at his hands as they curled around the cafeteria Spork. He may as well have been using a toothpick to eat. He started digging in, and I think I might have gaped for a full minute. He put the food away like it was his last meal
on earth. I was not one of these girls who picked at her food, either. I was impressed. Or possibly mortified. Crady and I exchanged glances.

My cousin Mick came in next and sat across from Crady. “Hey,” was all he said. He silently inspected the new guy and dismissed him as not a girl. He started in on his lunch.

I shook myself out of my astonished stupor. “So William. This is my adopted cousin Mick Klipper, and this is my friend Crady Johnson. We’ve been best friends, since, I don’t know. Little Deers Preschool?”  We laughed together.

William leaned over his tray so he could see her better. He gave Mick a small nod, too. After swallowing, he said, “A pleasure,” Then he went back to his meal.

Crady and I were used to sitting alone. Mick didn’t count, because half the time, he was trying to schmooze his way over to the Ticks’ table. We weren’t antisocial per se, but just hadn’t truly connected with other peers. And this being a rural community, some of our peers had dropped out already to pursue things like farming or factory work. Yeah, Deer Fjord wasn’t exactly brimming with employment opportunities. Which brought me to my next question for William.

“Where does your dad work?”  I daintily bit from my meal, feeling like a bird next to the mountain heaping shovelfuls of vegetables into his mouth.

“He works from home. On the internet,” He said between bites. At least he had manners, even though his second meal was almost gone. I myself like to get two milks. He had four.

“That’s cool,” I said. “My mom does too. She does graphic design for websites and junk. What does your dad do?”  I was trying to make up for lost conversation from earlier today, since I had so rudely left him to fend for himself.

“Stuff,” He finished his last milk.

Crady and I looked at each other with quizzical brows.

“Well, that’s great,” I finally said. “Hey, I have to get to class, but thanks for sitting with us. Crady?”  I stood and waited for Crady to join me. We both had world history next.

Our heads bent together as we left the cafeteria. Crady whispered. “Could he be any more vague?” 

“Could he have eaten another lunch?”  I asked her back.

We giggled until we got to class. Then we giggled some more, and then William came in and handed his class schedule to Mr. McMillan and winked at me. We stopped giggling.

I squeezed my hands into fists so tight that I was certain I was drawing blood in the shape of crescent moons into my palms. I would not blush. I would not blush.

Crady kicked my shin
from the next desk over, “Stop blushing!” She whispered to me.

I looked at my textbook and refused to follow William’s progress across the classroom. There were no open desks by me, so I didn’t have to worry. I read the chapter heading in my book a couple times and waited for Mr. McMillan to start his
lecture. I heard scuffling feet and shuffling backpacks, and a pad of notepaper hitting the desk right next to me. Nathan was no longer sitting there; William was.

I stared at him, frowning a bit. He mirrored my expression, nodded and turned his attention back to Mr. McMillan as if he was the most interesting teacher on the planet, which I knew for a fact was not even remotely true.

Mr. McMillan introduced the chapter on Ancient Armies and Ancient Warfare. A total yawn for me, but I could tell some of the guys in class were interested.

McMillan began,   “Can anyone tell me the difference between modern and ancient warfare?”

Timmy Peters, who used to wet his pants whenever he was asked to write on the board, called out, “Casualties!”

“Yes, definitely. Modern warfare has succeeded in creating less casualties…or at least, less civilian deaths,” McMillan wrote the word on the blackboard. “What else?”

The captain of the football team shouted out, “Weapons,”

“Of course. You have your broadswords versus smart bombs and what have you,” He wrote weapons on the board.

“Land,” Someone else said.

“What do you mean?”  The teacher asked.

Sydney Parks, one of the Ticks, elaborated. “Ancient war was over like, land and junk. Now there aren’t really countries trying to overtake other countries. As much,” She ended with a giggle, as if she didn’t care if she sounded stupid, which she didn’t, but it was like she didn’t want to take that chance.

“Okay, got it,” Mr. McMillan wrote that down too. “What else?”

“Politics,” I said.

“Expound, Ms. Burrows,”

I cleared my throat. “Well, ancient warfare was about expansion and dominion. Like Sydney was talking about, kinda. Nowadays, it’s more about which government is ticking off which government. So we’ve got terrorists claiming to be from a given country, and then our government has to retaliate. Like that,” I refrained from giggling, but I could see Sydney’s point in adding one. I felt sweaty and squirmy.

William spoke up, “I disagree,”

What?  What was wrong with what I said?  I wondered if this was about leaving him at the office.

He continued. “Ancient warfare was also about politics. There was expansion and dominion of course, but it was still a game of politics. There is no difference between ancient and modern warfare on that point. The ruling classes still use the grunts to forward their political agendas. In fact, that aspect of warfare hasn’t changed at all. The powers that be are only too happy to use the muscle of their country to fight their wars for them. You can bet if we armed the Senators and told them to go to war, there would be a lot less warfare going on,”

My dad was ex-military, and even though he left us, I felt defensive of him, or at least...of military men and women in general. I wasn’t going to let Mr. William-Tall-Dark-and-Handsome get away with trashing the military as if they were mindless drones. “Excuse me, William. But the United States Armed Forces are not in the habit of starting wars. We leave that to the despots and tyrants of the world. We just go in and mop things up.”

Mr. McMillan just stood at the front of the class and listened. He liked to encourage critical thinking in his students, and an in-class argument about the topic of the day was golden.

“I’m not saying the United States is starting wars. I’m only saying that powerful people use soldiers to further their ends,” William said to me.

I huffed at him.

He went on to the class in general. “I’m just saying that the politics of ancient versus modern warfare are not that different.”

Mr. McMillan held his chalk up to the board and looked at all of us. When no one else added anything, he went ahead and wrote ‘politics’ followed by a question mark. Then he told us to open to the chapter and gave us our reading assignment.

I was kind of irritated, because people at school were not in the habit of disagreeing with me. Maybe I’m a little bossy about stuff; I never thought about it before. At least McMillan put my answer on the board.

Crady just sniggered at me from across the aisle.

That wasn’t the end of it. Much to my chagrin, William was in every single one of my classes after lunch. I felt my face flaming by the end of the school day. I was so flushed in fact, that in last period, my teacher suggested I go to the school nurse to see if I was getting a fever.

I snuck a glance at William who looked at me pensively. Did he know that his proximity, his occasional wink, his gaze, his disagreeing with me, was causing me to blush like the spring’s first rose of the season? 

I happily left class and headed to the nurse’s office. Anything to get a break from his scrutiny. Light footsteps fell in behind me.

“The teacher said I could escort you, in case you fainted or something,” William said matter of
factly.

I wondered if he was assigned or had volunteered for the dubious honor. “Oh my gosh, you are insufferable!” I growled at him.

“What?  I thought we were getting along pretty well. Other than the whole office thing this morning, and the debate in world history…” He took my elbow. His giant hand entirely eclipsed my elbow and part of my forearm as well.

“It’
s not that. You’re just…how is it that you’re in all of my classes?”  I really just wanted to ask him how he had the power to make me blush so foolishly all the time. I looked down at his hand too, trying to get him to remove it.

He chose to ignore my not-so-subtle hint.

“I used my powers of persuasion on the school counselor,” He shrugged like it was no big deal.  And he as much as admitted that he did it on purpose.

I stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to face him. “Why?”  I frowned at him, confusion evident, I’m sure, all over my face.

“Because I can’t..,” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t finish his sentence, just shrugged. He didn’t make a move toward me. He didn’t give my body a once-over. He didn’t laugh or grin or stick his tongue out at me. He just looked at me with those soulful brown eyes and the most serious expression.

I felt my face combust, and along with it my temper. “Stop it! Just stop doing that!” I had to shout at him this time.

He stopped me with a gentle tug on my arm. “What am I doing?”  He asked, earnestly curious.

Should I tell him?  Yes I should.

I stepped closer to him, so that I could use my softest voice. “You’re making me blush. Why do you think Mrs. Harper sent me to the school nurse?  I don’t have a frickin’ fever. You’ve been making me blush all darn day and I can’t turn it off. Happy?”  I stepped back, feeling the red just burn up my cheeks and my forehead and across the back of my neck. I wanted flames to just shoot off my face and burn him up. I was angry and embarrassed.

He just looked at me, studying me, allowing his gaze to caress my face, my ears, and my neck. He nodded slowly. He still didn’t smile. He didn’t seem pleased or mean or confused. Then he looked into my eyes again. “I guess I didn’t notice, but I can see how that would make you feel. I’m not trying to make you blush, if it makes you feel better.”