— From the Journal of Eximius, Former Patriarch of House Avus
Do your duty.
Kleio’scommand had been ringing in my mind since he uttered the words a few weeks ago. My duty? Train to be a warrior, train to use my Blessings, and protect the city of the gods from the threats that surrounded it.
Absolutely ridiculous.
“Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Castor’s booming voice called out the moment I entered the raucous, overflowing tavern on the outskirts of the military encampment withinPavos. He reached out for me, clapped me on the back, and grinned broadly at the men around us. “Even Vipers have to let off some steam from time to time, eh?”
I forced a smile and gave a hesitant nod for my Lieutenant’s sake. I hadn't been back here since Kleio had told me the truth about this place. Being around them all, knowing what I knew, seemed wrong more often than not lately. I preferred to brood alone in my bunk these days. Castor had noticed.
I glanced around at the men he drank with while he took another drag of his ale and ordered one for me as well. I knew some of them or, rather, I recognized them from the sparring fields. They were a part of our squadron, each and every one. Some were fresh-faced boys who looked like they'd just joined up days ago. Others were grizzly veterans with any number of strangely carved scars adorning their bodies and a glare that had you thinking twice about whether or not to approach them. They eyed me with suspicion, but I held my ground. I’d been out there myself. I’d seen what theZverand their riders were capable of. I’d watched a god die. I could handle their suspicion.
I glanced longingly at my quiet, empty table in the corner and wondered briefly if I could possibly sneak around this rowdy crowd to find some solitude for a time. But then Castor slammed a mug of ale on the table in front of me at the same moment he pulled me down to sit beside him by the front of my leathers and the thought was gone.
He slapped me on the back again as I reached for the mug, nearly causing the contents to spill directly over the side. But instead I pressed it to my mouth and took a sip while he called out to another man on the other side of the room. It tasted horrible, like stale wheat left to rot in the sun, nothing like the whiskey I'd always preferred. But that was what we were given here, what the others had likely grown accustomed to. Maybe they drank to excess almost every night to simply forget about the taste.
“How’s it coming then?” Castor asked, smiling at me as he took another gulp. “With the spear, I mean. You’ve begun your training with the actual weapon now, haven’t you?”
I nodded, choosing to take a drink rather than speak.
“What do you think of it?” he inquired, cocking his head to the side to show his genuine interest.
“It’s lighter than a sword but more difficult to wield,” I confessed. “I always get in too close to my opponent.”
“You’ll want to keep your distance when it’s the cats you’re after,” another man grunted, sitting down across from us with such force nearly every mug on the table was bumped a few inches to the left.
“Kano has a point,” Castor acknowledged with a welcoming tilt of his chin in the direction of our new companion. “But that doesn’t mean it has to become your weapon of choice. You should fight with whatever feels most comfortable to you. Though I'll remind you the spear comes with an added benefit for fighting theZver.”
“The shocking,” I said, knowing what he meant.
Castor and Kano both smiled, the latter doing so through the bushy,gray-streaked beard which adorned his face. He shifted so his enormous belly wasn’t so pressed against the table and raised his own mug to his lips.
“How does that…work?” I asked, unable to stop myself. “The shocking, I mean. How do the spears do that?”
Castor’s brow furrowed as if it were the most ridiculous question he’d ever heard anyone ask.
“Gods, I don’t know,” he answered after a moment. “TheGeistcreated them for the defense of the city. I assume some of their power is inside somehow. But I’m not exactly privy to the process.”
I ignored the sarcasm, fighting the urge to gape at his assessment. He didn’t even know how the weapons he outfittedhis entire squadron with had been made? He was second in command to one of the most well-known and distinguished fighters of all time and he'd never even thought to question what sort of power we held in our very hands, entrusted our lives to on many occasions?
“But do they last forever?” I asked, unable to let it go. “The power inside them, I mean. Do they keep shockingZverfor forever? Because the council had to reinforce the walls just the other day, or so I hear. That would indicate that their power deteriorates over time, right? That it needs to be replenished or replaced every now and then. Do you take them in for maintenance? Or are they—”
“Why is a newbie recruit like you asking such questions, eh Viper?” Kano asked then.
I couldn’t ignore the way his tone had dropped lower as I turned to face him only to find keen dark eyes boring into mine with paranoid interest and more than a hint of suspicion. I shrugged, hoping to throw them off of the subject or, rather, my interest in it.
“I don’t know. I’m just curious, I guess,” I said. “Immortality gives one quite a long time to think.”
Castor snorted at that. Even Kano couldn’t help the grin that split his lips at the joke. I relaxed a bit in my chair, hiding the uncoiling knot of tension in my stomach by taking another gulp of the horrendous ale.
“I imagine so,” Kano said wearily, looking away from us to a group of new recruits laughing bawdily in the corner.
I wondered if he was remembering his youth as well. I wondered if he'd wasted it away on this farce of an army.
“How long have you served, Kano?” I asked, trusting in the drink to lend an air of familiarity to the conversation and loosen the old veteran’s tongue.
“Oh, well, nearly forty years now that I think on it,” he answered, scratching his bearded chin. “And I’d serve forty more if they let me.”
