“You’re getting much better,” Jacobs said with a smile as he went to strike at Reuben and felt his blade blocked right away. He moved to the side and attempted a sneaky poke to the ribs, only for that to be dodged as well. Jacobs stepped up his game throwing a quick series of slashes before pushing the pole into Reuben’s chest.
With an oomph the boy was pushed back but held fast. It seemed he wasn’t just getting better, but a bit stronger as well. Still, there was always something else to be desired for the critical adolescent.
Indeed there was little pride in Reuben’s face and he instead issued, “Come at me again and I’ll show you how much better I’ve gotten.”
Jacobs frowned and they continued their swordplay. He was frankly… disappointed. Not by Reuben by any means- no the boy lived and breathed for improvement and it showed. Every day he was a bit better and Jacobs had to go a bit harder.
Even When Jacobs grew bored of swordplay for the day, Reuben would spend another hour poking and brawling with the practice dummies and punching bags respectively. It seemed no amount of training could truly exhaust him. In fact the only times Jacobs saw him look restless or weary was when he wasn’t hard at work against him or his men.
Yet beyond that there was so little else he allowed himself to feel. Reuben had been with them for nearly two weeks now and Jacobs had done little to crack his outer shell. The boy was still nothing more than a shell to him. While he was a fine specimen in terms of endurance and ambition, he had nothing in terms of joy or friendship,
As Reuben once again set off to take Jacobs down, it made him think back to a prior conversation he had the night before.
A faint candle flickered between a group of four broad chested tall men. They sat back on emptied barrels and each were holding their own set of cards as they awaited their upcoming shift patrolling the village. By their calculations they only had another thirty minutes of banter and play until they had to head to their respective posts.
Given the time of night, they had moved outside the barracks rather than risk waking anyone. Sleep was essential for the weary warriors. This also meant they were completely out of earshot from Reuben for the first time since he had arrived.
From across Jacobs, his second in command set down two cards and exhaled. He saw his chance and said, “I’ve got to ask, sir. What’s with the kid? I mean- why are you bothering with training him so much?”
The cards he placed were good, damn good. Jacobs idly shuffled through his own cards, feeling the man’s impatience grow both from a lack of play and response. Finally Jacobs threw down his poor hand and replied, “Why not? The kid works hard and it hardly costs a thing to look after him. Can’t a man be charitable?”
“The kid’s freaky,” a man beside Jacobs complained as he flicked through his own deck. He sighed and put down three cards face down to which the others promptly took a card at random. After this he continued, “Have you seen his eyes? They’re so damn… I don’t even know. I swear if you keep training him he’ll grow up to be a serial killer. Take us all out in our sleep!”
This led to a rouse of laughter all around the table to which the man protested, “I’m serious! All he cares about is fighting and he does everything he can to rip us open at practice! It’s not normal. What do you think he’ll do when he really can face all of us?”
Still snickering, the forth guard said, “You’re only whining because he’s managed to get you the most out of everyone else. Few more weeks and he’ll be as good as you.”
“HEY!” he responded, clearly offended. “I’m pretty sure he got a hit on you yesterday, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you. Hell- I’m pretty sure the only one he still hasn’t managed to swipe is Jacobs.”
Peter, the second in command, raised his hand with a smirk and said, “Speak for yourself, ladies. He’s only managed to get half of us, guess you just fall into the lousier half of that group.”
Not wanting the group to dissolve into bickering and taunting, Jacobs said, “Alright now, Peter, put down some cards. I’d imagine you’re all wondering the same thing. Why am I spending so much effort on him?”
Three grunts were his response.
Two cards smacked the table and Jacobs said after, “I’m pretty sure we were all there when Greyson was beating the ever living hell out of him. Kid’s half his size and he was punching him bloody.”
“That was… pretty hard to watch,” one remarked, and Jacobs thought silently how no one else had stepped in that day to do anything. Still, it wasn’t something to bring up.
He replied, “Exactly. That sorcerer acts like he can do whatever he wants, including bringing a kid to the brink of death. Worst part is Reuben does keep getting up. He probably would keep getting up until his legs shattered.”
“So what is it then? Charity? His tenacity? Feeling sorry for a kid in poor circumstances?” the one to his right asked out of genuine curiosity.
By now they had all forgotten their game and were focused on Jacobs. He shrugged and said honestly, “I really don’t know. Maybe it’s both of those things or something else. Truth is, the kid just showed up the other day and I could see a dozen bruises fresh on him. I couldn’t just say no. It wouldn’t have been right. Especially knowing who he would have gone back to.”
“You always did have a big heart, captain,” Peter replied sincerely.
“Ah it isn’t all about taking him in like some helpless pup!” Jacobs replied, not wanting his men to get all mushy on him. Still, he smiled in the dark at the compliment. “He works twice as hard as any one of us, and I think he could make a fine guard someday.”
To his left he heard, “Why not a soldier? If he’s so determined, send him to the front lines. Put his skills to real use.”
A sour look overcame Jacobs along with a wave of harsh memories. He asked in a hollow voice, “Would you really ever want to send him over there? Right on the edge of those things?”
Everyone paused at this for a few moments. Someone replied quietly, “No… I suppose I wouldn’t. Although I’m sure you can tell by now the kid has no interest in becoming one of us.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Jacobs admitted. “Well hopefully he changes his mind on that. Or maybe he turns out unable to conjure magic in the first place. Only what- one out of a hundred people end up being able to?”
Peter shrugged and said, “Something like that, I don’t really remember. Though if he can’t, it would probably break the kid right then and there.”
Yet Jacobs wasn’t so sure about that. He offered, “The kid wants to be the strongest. Maybe he would settle for the strongest swordsman? Or maybe he’ll grow up a bit and realize dreams like that just put people in the ground to begin with. At the end of the day the strongest thing around is whichever beast out there is hungriest.”
“Why don’t you just talk to him about it?”
“Believe me, I’ve tried,” Jacobs said with a sigh. “I’ll admit, the kid is locked up tighter than a vault and he’s not opening up for anyone. Especially not to try and change his mind. He’s going to be the strongest sorcerer in the world and that’s final as far as he’s concerned. You so much as ask a bit about why and he’ll snap your head off.”
Still there was one light in the tunnel. Jacobs said optimistically, “Reunion is tomorrow, you know. Maybe that’ll help Reuben connect with everyone a bit more. Or if nothing else we can force him to finally let us teach him cards.”
“Haha, now that would be fun to see,” Peter remarked then he laughed and said
“I remember being young like that and having dreams. I thought I’d be the one man to finally save the world from beasts!”
He leaned forward and the moonlight illuminated his scarred face and missing eye. “A bit of reality helps kill dreams real quick.”
Jacobs looked over his trusted friend's face, the memory of the attack a permanent image in his mind. He hoped Reuben wouldn’t have to get that far before realizing how dangerous the world could be. How little a childish dream could do against the nightmare that awaits in reality.
Of course, any attempts to approach the topic always failed. So Jacobs relied on doing what he promised, preparing Reuben for his upcoming duel. Still, even he could only go for so long, and they had other things to do that night.
So Jacobs set down his blade and said, “Come on, we better head inside, don’t you think?”
Reuben groaned and asked, “Really? I didn’t think you were serious about that.”
Rather than reply, Jacobs just reached his hand out. Reuben begrudgingly handed off his pole and Jacobs returned them to the shed.
“What’s this for, again?” Reuben asked as Jacobs began walking over to the barracks door.
The Captain explained once again, “It’s Reunion! Being a guard can be a lonely job. You go months, sometimes longer without seeing your loved ones, it wanes on a man’s health. So the King himself issued a nice little get-together every six months where people are encouraged to go to the town their loved one’s are stationed in.”
“Why not just guard the town you’re raised in?” Reuben asked, not understanding why someone would volunteer to work so far from their home in the first place.
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“It isn’t exactly up to us,” Jacobs said, with a laugh. “Every year towns submit their population and the number of guards who protect them. Then the King tells us to go to whichever ones need protecting the most. Me personally? I was born in the east.”
While that made a bit more sense, Reuben asked, “Why not just move to whatever town your loved one ends up guarding then?”
Jacobs frowned and said, “Money. It’s one thing to pay for a guard to move and keep him fed, but his whole family? Not to mention, having your wife just a few blocks away yet barely able to see her might be just as if not more painful. Likewise, it would be much more of a distraction.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Reuben conceded.
So the doors opened to the sight of everyone rushing around trying to make the messy smelly barracks as fresh and clean as possible. Additional chairs were being brought in, windows were being opened to air out the inside, and a few guards had gone out to buy extra food.
As Jacobs gestured for Reuben to help him move a few loose weapons into the bedroom, he asked the captain, “Why do I have to help with this thing?”
“Because you’re living with us- even if temporary. If our home needs tidying up, then you have to help tidy it,” he explained.
After they moved a few more loose items, Jacobs nodded and said, “Alright, since you wanted to get some extra training in- Leroy just brought in some onions. How about you go over to him and help chop them up?”
Of course that was the last thing Reuben wanted, but Jacobs’ grin showed he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So he walked over to Leroy and offered his help. Right away the tall dark skinned man accepted and said, “Ah I’m so excited, I can’t even begin to explain it.”
“Uh-huh,” Reuben muttered as he began dicing up the onions.
“My wife couldn’t make it last time, you know. I haven’t seen my baby girl in nearly a year and a half now. She writes to me plenty but it isn’t the same…” Leroy remarked with sadness in his voice.
Despite Reuben having given at least ten “Uh-huh’s” the man never ceased talking. The more he went on about his wife and daughter the more Reuben wished he could just run outside and go back to training.
Unfortunately by now people were beginning to come inside. For the first time ever Reuben saw women and children inside the barracks. Leroy saw them as well, and nearly shouted with joy as he rushed over leaving Reuben shouting, “Hey!” as he was left alone with the vegetables.
Within the next thirty minutes the entire barracks began crowding with at least two dozen new people. Altogether Reuben must have counted six children from infancy to nearly his own age. A few ran around the barracks while the guards were talking to their own wives, girlfriends, mothers, fathers. It lived up to its name of Reunion, bringing together families if only for a few short days in the span of a long half year.
It also… really hurt to see. Reuben watched a guard pick up his small child and his wife gave him a kiss on the forehead as they laughed together. At the end of the table a son was eating food his mother had prepared for the holiday. Listening to Leroy talk about the family who loved him was hard enough, but now he was seeing it all around him.
Still there were plenty of people who were sitting alone and looking equally uncomfortable or upset as Reuben felt. Not only that- but Reuben had bigger things to worry about. Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, he began sneaking off outside.
“Where are you heading off to, lad? Parties just getting started,” an annoyingly familiar voice called out.
Seeing Reuben about to protest, Jacobs offered, “Just stay a bit longer, alright? Maybe you could talk to some of the kids around your age.”
“Yeah right. I have nothing to say to them.” Again Reuben looked around and asked, “How come there’s still so many people here alone?”
“Some of them come from families too poor to make the trip even once a year,” Jacobs began. “Some just don’t… have anyone. Many people become soldiers or guards since they don’t have much of a life to value anyway. Why pick a safe job if no one will miss you if you’re gone anyway?”
As they continued walking, it finally clicked that not a single woman there noticed Jacobs. Reuben said, “You don’t have anyone either, do you?”
Letting out a weary sigh, Jacobs confessed, “No, I can’t say I do. Seems we’re together in that regard aren’t we?”
“I guess we are,” Reuben replied honestly. A part of him regretted his honesty as soon as he admitted to his loneliness, but a bigger part really didn’t care. His biggest focus was on a man who had come to visit and gave one of the guards a tight hug. It seemed they were long lost friends reuniting after months of not seeing one another.
Wanting to get some of the emotion off himself, Reuben asked, “So why don’t you have anyone? You’ve lived a good life, handsome enough. What’s holding you back?”
Surprisingly, Jacobs burst out laughing. He fiddled with his hair and said, “Well, thank you for the compliment. I guess I never really wanted anything like that. Growing up all I wanted to do was get better at swordplay and martial arts. Women and friends took up too much time for me.”
Reuben laughed at the coincidence. He wondered if Jacobs saw himself in him somehow and hoped to nurture their similarity. Something about the idea was ridiculous enough to make him laugh harder.
“What’s that snicker about?” Jacobs teased. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile and now you laugh as I open up to you!”
“Nothing,” Reuben replied. “So if we’re both alone for this damn thing, why did we bother coming in here? We could be practicing more right now.”
The answer was simple enough. Jacobs sat himself down at a table, grabbed a piece of duck, and said, “Because I am quite hungry, lad. Maybe you can go all day swinging that stick but you don’t wear hunks of metal like I do.”
Even then, Reuben’s stomach began to grumble as the smell of food began wafting through his nose. He sat next to Jacobs and began helping himself to his own food. For the first time the two of them sat together, not merely side beside.
Soon enough the other single guards began heading over. While one side of the table was filled with child’s laughter and the smooth words of women, the other one became loud with rowdy men who teased and insulted one another as they tore into the mountains of food around them.
At that moment one of the guards pulled out a thick stack of cards and threw them on the table. He looked straight ahead at Reuben and said, “If you’re gonna be at the bachelor end of the table you better grab yourself a deck.”
So of course Reuben immediately began to get up, but Jacobs gave him a light tap on the back and said, “Not this time, lad! You’re about to learn the rules of Mottle whether you like it or not.”
Reuben protested, “I don’t need to learn a stupid card game. Can’t I go back out and work on my footing or do more exercises or anything that’s actually-”
“Nope,” Jacobs replied with a grin. “In fact- you have to play or else I’ll stop training you.”
Even though he knew it was an empty threat, Reuben still knew it would do him no good to leave then. So he sighed, swallowed his disdain for the trap, and ripped a pile of cards off the deck and into his hands.
With the cards in his hands, the man who started this whole business said, “Alright so every card has a set value. Each round you can either put down a number of cards or wait.”
“Waiting's for bitches,” a man said with a grin, and Reuben could smell the alcohol on his breath. His scowl seemed to somehow further deepen, but by now no one paid his misery any mind.
The instructions continued, “Each round grab a card and the person with the highest card at the end gets a point. Whoever has the most points by the time everyone is out of cards, wins. Got it?”
“Of course I do, that wasn’t even difficult,” Reuben replied. All he had to do was put down a card with the highest number? How was that at all difficult?
Yet somehow he kept losing. It was like he was the unluckiest person alive, and it was really starting to piss him off. One consolation was that while he was the worst at the game, Jacobs wasn’t much better.
With each passing game, Reuben’s patience was getting thinner and thinner. It was like he could feel the weight of time ticking by with every round. He saw people heading for bed out of the corner of his eye, or some leaving to stay in the inn their family was residing in. He shouldn’t be doing this.
By the fourth round they both were the first ones out of cards and Jacobs cried out, “You’re cheating! You’ve got to be!”
Their dealer laughed so hard that a card fell out of his sleeve and Jacobs exclaimed, “You’re going to be washing the latrine for a week for that one, Allan! Damn it, I should have known!”
This seemed to only make him laugh harder and Reuben finally had enough. He was tired of the game and finding out that he had been cheated every round only further toppled over his anger.
The sound of high pitched giggles made him look to his left and see a toddler walking over, stare at him, and let out a high pitched laugh.
Reuben wanted to ask what the hell he thought was so funny, but figured that getting angry at a baby was even stupider than a card game, and that he probably would have gotten quite a beating from doing that. So instead he began getting up from the table.
“Hey! Where are you going? I promise I won’t cheat anymore!” Allan cried out. Reuben paid him no attention and continued storming out. He swung the door open and walked back out into the field.
“I’ll go check up on him,” Jacobs said, excusing himself. He got up as well, leaving the group of players further disappointed, but they soon resumed their play with one another.
Even from outside the noise of laughter and singing could be heard by the mass of people gathered together. Reuben didn’t pay it any further attention, and was instead making his way over to the shed to grab a pole. He had enough of distracting himself with the stupid holiday.
“Reuben!” a voice called out.
“What!” Reuben shouted back. He was tired of being interrupted and forced to do meaningless tasks. He needed to train, he needed to be able to beat Greyson.
“I-” Jacobs voice faltered. “I’m sorry for making you play the card game. I thought maybe you would enjoy it. Maybe distract you from everything else going on. “
By now Reuben was laughing again. He shook his head and said, “I don’t- I don’t want you people. Don’t you understand?”
The words were sharp enough to make Jacobs take a step back. Still, he had heard worse from men with greater hatred. So he shot back, “Why? Why not? What happened, Reuben? What- what’s wrong with you?”
“What happened?” Reuben spat the words out. “I watched… the only person I had given a shit about get ripped apart. Like the damn duck we all tore into, he was just gone. Nothing left but strings of flesh and bloody bone and…” He staggered from the vision. “I don’t want to be a guard, I don’t want to play your card games, I don’t want to be your friend. I just want to be strong enough to fight that god damn sorcerer in two and a half weeks. That’s all. You got that?”
There was a deep sadness welling up within Jacobs. A grief only hardened soldiers had to be cursed with had been thrust onto a young boy.
No words could heal that pain, Jacobs knew that. He had seen his own men forced into similar states. Friends he had spent months beside gone in an instant. So he conceded, he gave in.
“Very well. Right. Training, of course. That’s what you’re here for. That’s what I agreed to give you. I shouldn’t have derailed us. Indeed, If I had known about your friend, I swear I wouldn’t h-”
“Just shut up,” Reuben replied, and Jacobs said nothing in return. The boy continued, “I’m going to get a pole. If you really want to make up for it then grab one too. I don’t care.”
Despite the unfortunate circumstances that it came from, Jacobs had finally understood Reuben just a little bit more. Grief was something nearly every person was struck by at some point. Some clung to alcohol to avoid it, others sought women to distract themselves, and for Reuben it seemed his dream was his sole painkiller. If it would lessen one boy’s grief even a little, Jacobs could train him indeed.
Still one had to ask what would happen when Reuben truly had to confront his pain.