Aacklin, the brave they called him,or baby face, it was a joke, something to get at the heart of him, to shun him, to shame him. Most his age had their courage scars..but not Aacklin. it wasn't that he was lazy, far from it, he did a mans work each day and well into the night most times, his hands bore the callouses that would dis-spell that tale. No Aacklin was far from lazy, and he wasn't stupid either, one of the med girls had taught him to read and write, but reading and writing didn't get you your first scar. Neither did honesty or caring. They just weren't enough.
Most already had their scars, they were courting and buying wagons..Aacklin watched as his friends dropped away each with their own homes and woman, hell some even had babies. they had done their deeds, they had their scars.
That was always in the back of his mind, his first scar! Each morning a steaming cup of black wine and standing on the plains as the sun rose he prayed to the gods of wind, sun, dirt...anyone he could think of to give him the opportunity to gather his first scar, that of courage. Each day passed with no real prospects. Soon his 19th name day would come, his father was so disappointed, though he never said, Aacklin could see it in his eyes.
He stood on the edge of camp and thought about what needed to be done this day.Each day was a routine, First the sleen pens, he was working with Jankan's sleen, he didn't know the name of the beast but the sleen trainer used him as a tracking subject, it was a sly one, it always found him no matter what Aacklin did to hide his scent, then it would trip him up and pounce on him like a giani would, playful like. There was nothing playful though when a 6ft, 6 legged,700lb animal drags you down. when that was done, he went to the kaiila pens. there was always something going on there.
Most of the thralls did the work but the trainer would allow him to exercise the splendid beasts. He would take them onto the plains and ride for an ahn, building up their stamina, then return. Each day a different beast, Today's was to be Kalina's, arathorn they called him. He was a good strong beast but sometimes headstrong. Before the ride the trainer put blinders on the animal, he stamped and snorted, his long head he thrust back and forth, the tusks ready to jab and poke anyone within the vicinity. The trainer stopped that action quick with a good goading then sent the two off for a good ride.
Aacklin didn't mind the solitude..as he rode off onto the plains. As he returned he stopped by Orlin, the Iron workers, area. He cleared away the discarded pieces of Iron, most were small and inferior and littered the ground. He knew this was just charity, the work was menial. But still it was work. He sectioned the pieces of twisted metal, things that could be used again and things that couldn't. He loaded them onto a cart. He wasn't sure what Orlin had in store for them but that wasn't his business. Finished he started to depart, the heat was sweltering, as Orlin called him to take an armload of collars to his Mate, Audra.
He took the ring of collars and keys and skirted the camp..he counted down the rows of wagons till he was on the row with the slavers wagon. Dismounting he took the ring down the path, passing the lovely jetta...one day he would own a sleek, lovely slave like that..all leggy and graceful. He wondered if she even noticed him as he stood there..till she glanced back and caught him staring at her. Her ass swayed a bit more as she trotted off and he thought she would be first when he got his scar, he would demand it.
He straightened himself a bit more..he was a man after all...and dropped the collars off then the kaiila. the day was waning and there was much more to do. Out to the Plains he went, the Outriders, well a few, practiced with him, fighting, riding, lance play. He had to be sharp. At the end of the day, he like the others that didn't bare scars found a place to sleep.
The day started like any other, a trip to the stream to wash up and on to the jobs that filled the day. He knelt next to the stream and splashed water on his sleep ridden face, reeds swayed gently in the morning breeze. He washed his arms and neck splashing water on his bare chest. The mornings were getting cooler as summer drifted into fall, the migration on everyone's mind these days. People moved quicker these days, reading for it. leaning down Aacklin dipped his face in the water, that should wake him he thought as he plunged deeper wetting the thick braids.
there was a shrill noise that even the rushing of the stream could not conquer it rose in notes as he lifted his head from the water shaking the excess from his hair. it was a woman beside the stream doing her laundry, he surmised she probably saw a snake and taking his vest walked down towards the woman. her shrieking stopped as others gathered.. frantically her arms waved, her voice still high enough to cut steel rambled on about a 1....1 was not here, one was not here, her only chant.
Others tried to comfort and calm the woman. many not understanding her frantic ramblings, Aacklin turned and looked towards the rushing stream understanding finally the woman's hysteria. the number one son had fallen in...dark eyes swept over the tumultuous waters for even a hint of the lost child..he was rewarded, small fingers wiggled just above the surface before going under once more.
Aacklin broke from the crowd that gathered and ran down the bank of the stream..there was a deeper area and as he made it there dove into the water...skimming the top as he had been taught as a kid. Long strong arms pushed the water behind him as he raced for the child, who hand resurfaced once more...
Aacklin prayed as the water got louder, there was a bend in the fast rolling stream, heavy rocks littered the way, they would be to much for the child to bare. The child bobbed in the water, Aacklin raised his head with each stroke getting the child's bearing within the rapids, he was gaining ground. His hand touched the child's foot..each power filled stroke had gotten him this close, the rapids were so close now, it was now or never. Aacklin pulled harder and his next stroke gave him the advantage...grabbing the child he pulled him close and above water..the child sputtered, coughing up that which wanted to take him...Others had joined in the chase but none were as close as he had been.
The current had only gained in strength as the bend loomed, Aacklin was no match for the tides with only one arm..the other around the frantic, now wiggling boy. Aacklin shoved the boy onto his back and turned his body, now aiming for the shore where others waited, shouting encouragement..A downed tree afforded safety and the boy climbed onto the stationary branches..making his way to the shore..the screaming mother scooped him into her arms. Aacklin grabbed hold of the now empty branches ready to use them to relieve himself of the water, but to his surprise, as well as those on the shore, the branch gave way, returning him to the swirling, raging waters.
The undercurrent pulled him below the surface, rocks and limbs tackled him, much like the sleen of Jankan's had though not as playfully. He grabbed at what he could, nothing held as he entered the bend. With each crash into sedimentary his strength faltered. The rocks were slippery and he had no choice but to endure the rapids. He closed his eyes, air became water and water became air as he thought about all the things good...that girl jetta. sitting with slea early in the day. that raven haired trainer. who made the girls stop teasing him for the lack of a scar. He would have owned her pert, petite body had she not already belonged to someone else, of that he was sure. The rocks bludgeoned him mercilessly, no longer was there an up or a down, it was all just thoughts now, and honestly he didn't care as he communed in his dreams.
A month had passed, the child no worse for ware ran with his brothers, circling wagons on their adventures, lances in hand as they fought the unseen enemy. The bruises had all cleared, the small scar on his chin was puckered and pink on his dark skin and something that he had used to gain sympathy for as long as he could. His mother had hugged and kissed his flailing body till his father had removed the boy from her arms citing coddling, and no son of his...and sent him back to camp..walking behind him as he wobbled through the prairie grass. Aacklin had also been lucky that day.
Others had ran further downstream, Skain had led the pack and showed them where the water was much calmer, He had waded in having made a line in the water to catch his lifeless body. they drug him to ground and pummeled his back till he sputtered and coughed up the foul water then carried him to the med wagon where it was told he had a broken arm, ribs and a fractured wrist. He had been dismissed within two hands and the red courage scar given the following hand.
