Read A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden Online
Authors: Shiriluna Nott,SaJa H.
Gib’s stomach was in knots as he remembered an incident that had taken place the previous summer. He was helping the Fadell family bring in their first crop of the year and their eldest son, Altair, was working side by side with Gib most of the day. The boy was nothing but pleasant, laughing and joking as he worked, yet Gib was uncomfortable the entire afternoon. He felt lightheaded each time Altair directed a smile toward him, and his pulse quickened when the boy accidentally brushed against him as they worked.
Oh Daya. I never realized it was attraction I was feeling toward Altair! It can’t just be a coincidence. This has been going on longer than I thought. Joel didn’t awaken these feelings. They’ve been there all along
.
“He was two wheelturns older than I, but that hardly mattered to me,” Joel continued as if in a trance. “It was the first time I’d felt such infatuation for another person. Each time he smiled, a shameful blush came to my face, and every time he laughed, I felt as though my knees might give out. I knew it wasn’t normal. My peers, my brother, my family—none of them acted in such a way toward one of their own. And so I told no one.” A single tear escaped the mage’s eye. “It happened again a few years later when I came of age to enter Academy. Only this time, the boy I longed for returned my affections, or so I thought. But you know that story already.”
“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing Gib could think to say at first. His mind was still a jumble of unanswered questions. It felt as though he’d been asleep for the past thirteen wheelturns and was just now waking up.
Joel blinked away his tears even as his voice finally cracked under the pressure he’d been holding in for so long. “I—It was just hard to go through alone.”
Gib felt a sudden surge of bravery and reached out with his good hand to set it on top of Joel’s. The older boy deserved better than how he’d been treated, and Gib felt compelled to show his support. “
No one
should ever have to go through that alone. I can’t even fathom how you must have felt. Joel, you’re stronger than you think.”
The mage trainee’s eyes were shimmering in the candlelight, wet with emotion. “I’m tired of always having to be strong.”
Heart aching at the weight of Joel’s words, Gib couldn’t catch his breath. He understood. He understood wholly. He, the poor farm boy, had been left to care for his younger brothers, tend a farm, and worry about whether or not his family would survive each winter. He’d been strong his entire life. His circumstances had forced him to be. But sometimes Gib wanted to break down and sob, cry until all the worry and sorrow bled from his soul.
Our situations were different but we’re the same. Joel has put on a brave face just as I have. We’re both fighting our battles alone, but we don’t have to be
.
Gib dared to raise a trembling hand toward his companion, noting the pain in his injured wrist had faded away. Joel’s spell must have worked. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re only human.” He touched Joel’s shoulder gingerly. “I may not be as old or educated as you, but I do know the pain of suffering in silence. I know how awful it feels to think you have to keep your wits about you when all you want to do is fall apart.”
Joel was looking at him now through thick, damp lashes. “If I fall apart, I may never be able to put the pieces back together.”
“I can—I am—” Gib was struggling to get his words out. “I’m here for you, Joel.”
The mage trainee quivered. “As I am for you.” His voice trailed off into a forlorn whisper, but Gib was certain Joel had more to say. The older boy pursed his lips, and Gib could do nothing but wait—wait for the words that might change both their lives.
“Gib, there is something I need to ask you.”
Gib’s heart hammered in his chest. “You can ask me anything.”
Joel lifted his face, mouth open just a little, as though he was trying to find the strength—
A sudden gust of wind tore through the window, flinging the shutters open with a bang. Gib promptly jumped out of his skin while Joel rose and ran over to the window. The mage trainee gasped as he reached the sill. “It’s snowing.”
Gib came back to his senses and went to assist his roommate. Sure enough, a silver misting of ice was being swept around outside and through the open window. Gib shivered as the bitter air met his skin. He looked to Joel but knew the moment was gone.
“Let’s get this shut before we freeze to death.” The mage trainee’s voice suggested that nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. His clever mask was once more impeccable.
Grudgingly, Gib lifted his good hand to help, and by the time the window was secured, Joel was more distant than ever. He immediately snuffed out the candle and climbed into his bed without another word, not even to wish his companion so much as a good night. It seemed yet again, Gib would be left to wonder what might have been.
Once the snow began to fall, it didn’t stop. For three sennights, flurries of ice and slush cascaded down from the skies, burying Silver City under a catastrophic amount of dense, wet snow. Business in the city came to a grinding halt. The streets were impassible by horse or cart and most of the residents opted to stay inside, venturing into the weather only if the need was dire.
On the academy grounds, Gib’s physical training class had to be moved inside. Even Weapons Master Roland admitted defeat and took the students out of the cold when they found themselves waddling around in waist deep snow. Gib’s hand was on the mend, but he still hadn’t been given permission from the healers to rejoin the class, so most of his time was occupied by cleaning armor, patching clothing, and doing other menial tasks that the sentinel trainee had become quite adept at performing over the past two moonturns.
His mind was likewise unable to remain idle. Damn Nawaz Arrio and his antics. If not for the stunt he’d pulled at the Rose Bouquet, Gib may have never realized his feelings and then none of this awkward business with Joel would have happened. Gib didn’t know how or when, but he was determined to have it out with Nawaz the next time they met in private.
For his part, Joel made himself scarce again. They hadn’t ever finished the conversation started on the night Gib returned from the Rose Bouquet. Gib wondered if Joel was really as busy as he said he was, or if he was purposely avoiding his roommate.
Another conversation still weighed heavily on Gib’s mind as well—the one he’d heard between the two men plotting to kill King Rishi. Joel and Hasain seemed to have forgotten about the incident, but Gib found himself lingering in empty corridors, standing beside partially ajar doorways, listening for those terrible voices speaking of such unspeakable treason. But he heard nothing. He saw nothing. And eventually, Gib ceased trying to locate the would-be assassin. Perhaps Joel and Hasain had been right after all. Maybe it had just been an idle threat and nothing would ever come of it.
The snowstorm itself was a growing cause of concern, grating on Gib’s frayed nerves. Every day it continued to snow was another day the roads couldn’t be cleared. He planned to ride home with Liza over the Midwinter Festival to visit Tayver and Calisto, but now the journey would possibly be too dangerous to make. They hadn’t seen their brothers in three moonturns, and this was the only chance to check in on them before Academy went on summer recess—four lunar cycles away. He couldn’t wait that long to see them. He didn’t even know how they were doing. Did they have enough food to make it through the winter? Were they starving to death? What if the roof collapsed? Or the cottage caught fire? A million different things could go wrong and Gib was not there to save them. Despair dragged him down and though Liza offered words of comfort, he felt helpless.
Gib was close to having a nervous breakdown by the time he returned to his room one evening, three days before the Midwinter Festival was set to begin. Everywhere he’d gone that day, students were talking about how happy they would be to go home for the festival. They gushed about being able to see their families and loved ones and about sleeping in their own beds. Gib wanted to cry. Traveling to Willowdale was a three-day journey under normal circumstances. He wouldn’t be able to make the trek through three feet of snow.
Gib flopped down onto his bed miserably. He’d worked himself up so much his temples were throbbing.
“What’s wrong?” Joel asked from his place at the writing desk.
Gib threw his hands into the air. “It’s the snow! I’m not going to be able to travel home for Midwinter!”
The mage trainee grimaced. “I’m sorry. But it’s true. The roads are far too dangerous for travel.”
“I’m aware.”
Joel shifted in his chair. “I’m sure your brothers will be all right, especially if they’re as resourceful as you.”
“I just miss them. It’s my job to worry about their welfare.” Gib reached up and began to massage his forehead.
Damn this headache
. “Not to mention all of the city-born students are going home to their families while I’ll be stuck here, eating cold porridge three times a day and lamenting about the farm and everything else I have no control over.”
Joel didn’t immediately respond. Finally, the mage trainee got up and sat on the edge of Gib’s bed, by his feet. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you come home with me? For the Midwinter Festival.”
Gib was taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting the other boy to suggest
that
. “Oh, I–I don’t know—”
“I’ve told Mother all about you. She wants to meet you.”
Gib blushed as he sat up. “Your mother does? Why?” He wrung his hands together. “I don’t know—I wouldn’t want to be in the way, and I’d be an extra mouth to have to feed.”
Joel laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You wouldn’t be either of those things. Trust me when I say my family always prepares
far
too much food for our Midwinter feast. I don’t think there has been a year when the servants weren’t sent out into the streets afterwards to give the homeless our gluttonous leftovers.”
“Your father is Seneschal Koal. I don’t think he would allow a common urchin like me to dine at the same table.”
“You presume to know very much about a man you’ve never spoken to,” Joel replied with a snort. “Father wouldn’t mind.”
Gib’s face flushed even more as he searched for another excuse. “
Liro
. Your brother hates me.”
Joel set a steady hand onto the sentinel trainee’s shoulder. “It’s entirely possible Liro won’t partake in the feast. He hasn’t been inclined to show up for family dinners as of late.” He tightened his grip, squeezing Gib’s arm gently. “Please come. I know my sisters and mother will adore you as much as I do.”
“Adore?”
“I–I mean—admire. I admire you—
your
—I admire your courage.” Joel dropped his hand to his side and looked away.
Gib was almost positive he saw a light shade of pink come to the mage trainee’s cheeks. Joel’s eloquence had abandoned him in that moment, which was uncommon for a person normally so well composed.
Gib spared his roommate the embarrassment and consented. “All right. I’ll go with you.”
Joel nodded and then said in a stiff voice, “I’ll send word to Mother.” He still couldn’t look Gib in the eye.
Two mornings later, Gib found himself standing before the Adelwijn estate. The bitter wind cut through cloak, tunic, and skin as Gib stood in front of the wrought iron gate surrounding the perimeter of the property and waited for it to be opened. He shivered as a wet drop of snow found its way beneath his clothing and left a frigid trail down the back of his neck. He couldn’t feel his toes—the slush had soaked into his boots almost as soon as he’d set foot outside—and his fingertips were in danger of suffering the same fate despite the leather gloves wrapped around his hands.
“
Daya
, Joel,” Gib gasped. “I’m going to be an icicle soon if we don’t get out of this weather.”
Joel was fumbling with the latch. “Sorry, it’s iced over.” A moment later, the hinges groaned in protest and both of the boys pushed the gate open.
They entered the courtyard. Gib imagined during the summer, the space would be lush and filled with beautiful flora. But there was nothing except more snow now. Joel led him toward a towering door at the far end of the courtyard.
“Almost there,” the mage trainee promised.
Gib gritted his teeth but elected not to respond. All his focus was on setting one frozen foot in front of the other. At least someone had taken the liberty of clearing a pathway inside the courtyard. He thought to ask about it, but they had already approached the door and his roommate was reaching for the brass handle. Gib swallowed nervously. Even the door, etched with beautiful carvings and fanciful paint, screamed of the wealth this noble family possessed.
What am I doing here? Who am I fooling? I’m common-born and they’re all going to hate me for it
.
He thought to bolt, to go running back through the streets, all the way to his cold, empty room within the dormitory, but Joel opened the door and turned to grace him with another shy smile. “Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.” The mage trainee’s voice was as smooth as silk.
Gib felt his heart quicken.
I can do this for him. Joel wants me to be here, even if his family discards me as unworthy
. He managed to nod. “Gladly.”
Warmth hit his skin as soon as he stepped through the threshold, and before Gib could think to remove his cloak, a pair of servants was by his side, stripping him of the heavy furs. He gawked in awe, but Joel seemed nonchalant and greeted the pair warmly. “Hello, Otos, Tabitha.”
The man, a wiry, middle-aged fellow with hair the color of straw and brown eyes, gave a small bow as he took Joel’s cloak into his arms. “Welcome home, m’lord.”
“Lady Mrifa is awaiting you,” said the young girl, who couldn’t have been much older than Gib. She was dressed in a simple frock made of cotton, and her dark curls were pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck.
Joel gave them another warm smile. “Thank you both. I shan’t keep Mother waiting then.” He motioned for Gib to follow, and the two boys left the servants behind.
They made their way down a long hall. The ceilings were not as tall or as grand as those in the academy building, but this was undoubtedly a home suitable for nobility. Portraits lined the walls, illuminated by lanterns, the light casting an eerie glow across the paintings. The hair on the back of Gib’s neck rose. All those faces seemed to be staring at him, judging him.
And rightfully so. What the hell am I doing here?
Joel cleared his throat. “Mother insists on keeping the portraits despite the wishes of my father.” The mage trainee smiled, turning to look directly at Gib. “Don’t worry, I think they’re uncanny too.”
Gib barked a nervous laugh. “Yeah.”
They came to an archway at the end of the corridor which opened up into a magnificent sitting room. The space was filled with plush, velvety furniture, and the largest rug Gib had ever seen before was laid down onto the white granite floor like a blanket. Tapestries clung to the walls and an immense pane of glass served as a window to overlook the courtyard outside. A roaring fireplace provided warmth to the area, but Gib hardly had time to see any of it before one woman and two girls about Gib’s age entered the room from a separate hallway. The youngest adolescent squealed with excitement at the sight of them but was disciplined enough not to run forward.
“Gib, I’d like you to meet my mother, Lady Mrifa,” Joel said, never missing a beat. His blue eyes flashed toward his family. “Mother, this is my roommate, Gibben Nemesio.” Joel placed a hand onto Gib’s shoulder.
Lady Mrifa came forward at once. A petite woman, she had the same mesmerizing blue eyes as her son but her locks were golden as opposed to Joel’s dark hair. She wore a flowing ivory gown made of fine silk and had an intricately woven shawl wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the cold. Her oval face was adorned with powder, and jewels hung from her ears and neck. A delicate nose gave way to full, cherry-colored lips that were pulled upward into a welcoming smile.
“It is a delight to finally meet you, Gibben,” Mrifa spoke at once. Her voice was as eloquent as any noble’s but without the haughtiness commonly associated with such rank.
Gib gave a little bow. “Joel has told me so much about you, Lady—” He let out a startled gasp when Mrifa advanced on him without warning. She embraced the sentinel trainee around the shoulders like any mother might do to her own child.
Mrifa planted a kiss on his reddened cheek. “Welcome to our estate. Please make yourself at home.” Before Gib could even think to respond to
that
, Mrifa turned and ushered the two girls forward. Both of them shared Mrifa’s golden hair and blue eyes. “These are my daughters, Joel’s sisters, Heidi and Carmen.”
The girls introduced themselves, and Gib gave them each a gracious nod in return. He even managed to find his own voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He looked back at Joel, who gave him a smile of encouragement. Gib was surprised how easy it was to converse with Joel’s family. “Joel has spoken of all of you many times, but I’m afraid he failed to mention just how lovely you were.”