Broken Aro (The Broken Ones) (2 page)

BOOK: Broken Aro (The Broken Ones)
5.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He took it graciously. They were cooperating after
all. "Thank you."

He flipped through pages, worn and old, the ink fading
but still readable. Each page contained a garbled mess of words and underneath,
her interpretations of them, sometimes going on for pages. Reading and
memorizing quickly, he stopped at the prophecy they spoke of.

Damon looked at the Fey and laughed. "You're
looking for some ancient, broken weapon?"

Ketheris nodded, his face grim. "We've spent
centuries scouring all the eastern lands. Unless the Elves have it, it is not
here. Besides..." He stopped and glanced at his wife.

She shook her head slightly.

Damon looked back down at the worn book, flipping
through more pages. Suddenly he stopped. He read the short line of prophecy
twice and then looked up. "I see." His gaze went from Ketheris, to
Dalsia, and then to the small child in her arms. "You think you'll find it
now."

Dalsia reached out and when he didn't argue, took the
book back. "It is time. We didn't understand that at first..." She
smiled down at her son. "But now we do."

Damon stepped closer, ignoring how the woman froze. He
bent over slightly, taking a closer look at the child. "What is your name,
little one?"

The boy blinked up at him with innocent golden eyes.

Damon frowned.

"Kei," his mother said quickly. She held the
boy tighter to her chest. "Don't you dare go into his mind. You know what
that would do to a child."

He leaned back, chuckling at the vehemence of her
words. Mothers and their young.

"Will you tell him?"

"When he's old enough to understand his part,"
Ketheris said.

Damon nodded. "Very well. I will let you be on
your way. Safe seas to you."

The Fey regarded him warily, but spoke a soft
farewell.

He wandered slowly up the beach, and kept walking, lost
in thought. Could the Fey be healed? If they were...yes, things would certainly
become interesting again. He was curious how the other races would react.

He paused and looked out to sea at the ship waiting to
take the first Fey to the west. It was not a trip he would care to make, the
currents over the sea could be vicious, as would the human's reaction to a
dragon in their lands. No, he would watch and wait for their return. He would
mull over the prophecies he'd memorized.

With another smile he continued walking, his boredom
forgotten.

Chapter 1

When Bells are
Ringing

 

 

My dearest Arowyn,

I hope this letter finds you well. Everything is
mostly quiet up here. Have you heard from your brothers again? I hope the note
I included in my last letter sorted out the situation with the baker. Did you
apologize like I asked you to?

How are your studies progressing? You were supposed to
include updates from your tutors in your last letter. That you  did not rather concerns
me. Be sure to do so this time. I heard from John Harris that you were quite
helpful to his wife and daughter not long ago. She praised you greatly in a
letter to him. It gave me great pride to hear of your kind and generous
actions.

I bet you cannot guess what I found last week. Maybe I
should make you guess, but you would just get cranky. I know you would never
guess right either. I found a boy in the woods, close to your age, maybe a
little older. He is quite wild, and feisty. Even more so than you, if you can
believe that. I have him here at the fort and it is taking him a while to
settle in, but I am confident a little time is all it will take. By fall I am
sure he will be much quieter. I am certain you will like him. I have grown
quite fond of him myself. He will certainly fit right in. I can already imagine
the trouble you will all get into. I expect you to be on your best behavior
when I come home then, understand?

Be a good girl, keep up with your studies, and please,
stay away from the swords. Wait until your brothers or I are home. I love you
with all my heart, my daughter, and miss you more than words can say.

 

The clanging of bells jerked her attention away from
the old letter. Resisting the urge to hide her head under her pillow, Arowyn
winced at the noise and sat up. The dim light of early morning filtered into
her small bedroom, barely enough to read by. Certainly way too early for the
market bells. She carefully folded the two year old letter and set it to the
side. Crawling over the bed to the window, she pushed open the shutters.

Cool, fall air greeted her face. A slight breeze
between the houses ruffled her long dark hair. Bracing herself on the
windowsill, she leaned out, looking down the narrow alley toward the street.
People were running every which way, some still in their night clothes. She
grinned at that, until the reason suddenly occurred to her.

She jerked back inside, pulling the shutters closed. A
heavy lump formed in her stomach. It wasn't the market bells ringing, but the
ones from within the watch towers along the city wall.

She knelt on the small bed and wrapped her arms around
herself, staring straight ahead in shock.
So soon? They couldn't be
attacking already!

Thumping on the stairs caused her head to turn and
relief flooded her. She'd be just fine. Her brothers had come home just the day
before. Of course they'd brought an enemy army on their heels, but at least
they were here and could tell her what to do. Being alone from spring to fall
every year sucked rotten eggs. She survived the loneliness, but she didn't like
it.

One of them banged on her door. "Aro! Wake up and
get downstairs!"

"I'm coming," she told Danny, the middle
brother. Springing off the bed, she didn't bother with getting dressed. Her
brothers were nothing but efficient and orderly; military to the core. If they'd
wanted her to get dressed first they would have said so.

Before doing anything, she returned her father's
letter to its safe place. Taking the stairs two at a time, she stumbled into
organized chaos. All seven of her brothers were awake, dressed in their
uniforms and light armor, and moving about in all different directions.
Had
they even gone to sleep?

Ryan grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her to
the dining room table. "Eat."

She blinked once and obeyed. Dirty dishes piled on the
counter proved everyone else had already eaten. She shoveled fried eggs into
her mouth and just watched. Paul was bent over a swath of papers at the other
end of the long table. Elliott was going through the very bare pantry and
tossing most of the food he found to the side. Joel quickly jammed everything
into packs. She could hear the others banging around and talking in various
parts of the house.

Elliott caught her attention. "Is there more?
Anywhere else?"

She shook her head and swallowed a mouthful of egg. "I
didn't know you'd–"

"Paul," he cut her off. "We've a
problem with supplies."

Her oldest brother looked up from his papers. "Take
Joel and go to Old Lady Wences. She always has extra." Elliott nodded and
gathered up a few empty packs as Joel quickly finished filling the others. "Don't
forget to pay her," Paul added.

Elliott snorted. "Does it matter?"

"Just do it."

Aro watched the exchange wide-eyed. Her brothers never
acted like this; at least not at home. They were all so...serious. The eggs
suddenly left a bad taste in her mouth. Would the Gelanians actually get past
their walls? They never had before...but then they'd hardly ever breached the
mountain passes either. Until this summer when they managed to take them and
push into the valley. Almost every day word had come down how they kept moving
forward. So many people had died, so many towns and villages fallen. Their land
supply routes were quickly lost. The city's population had swelled to more than
double with refugees.

She understood the basics of all of this, she'd grown
up in a military family. She planned on joining the army as soon as she came of
age. She paid attention to conversations. She knew more people and less food
meant falling morale. She almost smiled. It hadn't, and mostly because of her
brothers. The seven Mason brothers were the country's most famous soldiers, and
they were
her
brothers. She knew they would do absolutely everything to
keep her safe.

Sammy bounded into the room, his eyes bright and
mischievous. "I think this will do." He dropped a pile of clothes on
the table. "Are you finished yet?"

She nodded and took her plate to the counter. "What's
all this?"

"Her hair first," Paul said absently.

Her head shot around to look at him. "What about
my hair?"

Elliott and Joel left through the side door, letting
in the sound of the bells. Paul paused, listening. "We don't have much
time left."

"Time for what?"

"Where are the scissors?"

She blinked. "I don't know."

Sammy ran his hand over his forehead. "Sit down,
Aro."

She sat, her heart pounding faster as Sammy drew his
knife. "You are not cutting my hair!"

"Don't be difficult," Paul said.

Normally, she listened to Paul. At thirty-two he was
the oldest. He'd easily taken over the role of leader in the family when their
father died only two years ago. She fumed as Sammy grabbed a handful of hair at
the base of her neck. No, she couldn't let them cut it. "Don't you dare,"
she said suddenly, pulling away again.

"Aro! Sit still," Sammy jerked her back into
place by her hair.

"Ow! You idiot! That hurt!"

Paul slammed his fist on the table. "Stop. Now."
He looked at her. "We're leaving the city. We will be traveling and it
will be easier if you're a boy. Understand?"

Her mouth opened and closed again. Everything he said
was too much to take in. While her mind tried to figure out what was going on,
Sammy started hacking away at her waist-length hair.

Once the first locks fell she gave up. Clenching her
teeth, she tried to keep the tears away.

"I'm sorry," Sammy whispered.

She raised her chin. "Go rot."

By the time he was done her head felt funny. Sammy
hadn't cut it very short, some pieces fell almost to her shoulders. Others hung
around her ears and over her eyes. By the way her brothers wouldn't look at
her, she figured he'd done a rather terrible job. She glared at Sammy, she'd
get him back. Yes, she would.

She fingered her hair and made a face. "Gah."

Paul frowned over at her. "You're not five."

He always said that, so had father. Tears stung her
eyes and she blinked them away.

"Go get dressed now," Paul said quietly.

Pressing her lips tightly together, she nodded. She'd
have been angrier, but knew he hadn't done it out of spite. "How long do
we have?"

Paul shook his head. "I don't know yet. Don't
take too long."

She looked at Sammy, but he was avoiding her. Picking
up the pile of clothes she headed up the stairs without a word.

Once in her room, she tossed the pile on the bed and
started rifling through it. Everything was old and smelled musty. Castoffs from
when the boys had first joined the army. She slipped off her nightdress and
into the old clothes. The pants were too big, but no surprise there. With a
grumble she went back downstairs. "This isn't going to work."

Paul actually chuckled. Sammy had gone off somewhere,
but Ryan and Danny had returned. They stared at her and then looked to Paul. "What
did you do?"

She reached up to touch her hair and her pants almost
fell down. The boys started laughing and she glared at them. "This wasn't
my idea! Now fix it!"

Ryan ran upstairs and brought her a belt, while Danny
rolled up her pants and gave her a pair of boots. By the time her clothes were
mostly staying in place Sammy came back in from the side door, arms full once
more.

"Now what?"

The pile he dumped on the table made her smile this
time though. Armor and weapons.
She ran
her finger gingerly along the blade of the nearest knife and grinned up at her
brothers. "I forgive you."

Danny and Ryan sorted through the pile and fitted her
out, cursing under their breaths as they tried to adjust everything to fit her.
She smiled over at Sammy, her hands on her knives. At least he'd brought them
for her and she was allowed to wear them out.

Everyone froze at the deep resonating bell sounding through
the city. She gripped her knives tightly and looked to Paul, hoping he'd have
another explanation than the one in her head.

"The port is under attack," he said,
answering her unasked question.

She looked down, trying to push the sudden fear away
and wondering where the Gelanians had gotten boats, or who they'd allied with.

"We need to move. Sammy check on Elliott and
Joel. Danny see if you can find Aaron."

Other books

The Ocean by Mia Castile
Your Man Chose Me by Racquel Williams
Slow Dancing by Suzanne Jenkins
Chain Letter by Christopher Pike
The Summer Cottage by Susan Kietzman
The Slide: A Novel by Beachy, Kyle
Wakefield by Andrei Codrescu