The Ogre Apprentice (12 page)

“Jharro bows are different than staves or swords,” Qurl explained. “We would have worked with you on the journey here, but none of us use one.”

“Do you mean like, transforming the wood and things like that?” Justan asked. He had seen Yntri Yni do amazing things with his bow, breaking it into pieces and reforming it as if it were clay. Justan wasn’t sure how useful that would be for him, but the best he had managed to do so far was to make the front of his bow narrow to a sharpened edge.

“As I told you before, Beltry,” Jhonate said, glancing at her friend. “His understanding of his bow is rudimentary at best.”

“Hey,” Justan protested. No one had complained about his skill level before. Why was he just hearing about this now?

“He only recently communed with his tree,” Jhexin added.

Jhonate agreed. “I want you to make him at least proficient enough that he does not embarrass himself.”

Beltry nodded, though his smile slid a little at the look of consternation on Justan’s face. “Well, he is named by the Bowl of Souls. I’m sure he’s a fast learner.”

“A fast learner . . ?” Justan was growing more and more frustrated. Why was he feeling so embarrassed? Shouldn’t he be above that by now? After all, he had been named twice, he had four powerful bonded, and had fought in a war, destroying scores of deadly monsters. Now they were saying he didn’t know how to use his own bow?

Jhonate couldn’t ignore the intense feelings that were coming through their connection.
Why are you upset? Do you feel that you are above training your abilities
?

Of course it’s not that
, Justan said. Warriors always tried to improve. Even his father was constantly training.
It’s the way you are going about it. I am tired of you yanking me around
.

I apologize for my abruptness
, she sent, confused.
Perhaps I should have informed you of your deficiency earlier
?

Justan clenched his teeth. Was she just as clueless as Deathclaw?
Long ago, you told me that I deserved your respect. But lately you treat me like I am still that awkward teenager who couldn’t run without tripping over his own two feet. You might as well go back to calling me ‘boy’
.

Jhonate blinked, her brow furrowed.

“Uh . . .” said Beltry and the rest of the group exchanged looks. Justan and Jhonate had been staring at each other silently for several seconds. The others didn’t know what was going on, but by the way the two betrothed’s facial expressions kept changing, it was obvious that there was some kind of communication going on between them.

Please, Justan, do not doubt my respect
, Jhonate pleaded.
I . . . I am not good at expressing the way I feel. I just do things in the way I know how
.

She reached up and grasped Justan’s head with both of her hands, then pulled him in and kissed him fiercely, ignoring the panic that rose within her when expressing her emotions like this publicly. Justan felt the intensity of her passion surge through the ring as her tongue grazed his.

Finally, Jhonate let go of his head and ended the kiss. She pulled back a few inches from his face and looked firmly into his eyes as she said, “Remember, I love you.”

I love you both
! said Gwyrtha enthusiastically. The others scratched their heads at Jhonate’s sudden affection.

Justan swallowed, finding that his mind had been emptied of the frustration that had been building inside him. Jhonate hadn’t kissed him like that since they had left the academy. He smiled. “That does make me feel better. You just need to remind me from time to time.”

“Humans,” Deathclaw commented again with a roll of his eyes.

The intensity of Jhonate’s passion abated quickly as she looked around to see if anyone in the rest of the camp had noticed their kiss. It was likely that someone had, but if that was the case, they were smart enough to look away before she noticed them.

Feeling a bit relieved, she said. “Please, Edge, be patient with me,”

Justan nodded. Sometimes he forgot that this was her first time loving someone. She might have been two years older than him, but she was just as inexperienced with relationships as him. The kind of emotional reassurances he needed from her did not come to Jhonate easily. She was far more used to pushing people away than letting them in and the predicament with her father made things even more difficult,

I love you
, too, Justan sent. He turned his attention back to Beltry Hoon. “Shall we get going, then?”

“Yes,” Beltry said and from the expression on his face, he seemed eager to leave this awkward situation behind him.

We are coming, too
, Gwyrtha said.

Justan knew there would be no talking them out of it. “I hope you don’t mind that my bonded will be coming with us. They are quite protective with the nightbeast after me.”

“Of course. I understand,” the archer said, giving Deathclaw and Gwyrtha an uneasy smile.

Deathclaw must have really unnerved him. Or perhaps it was the mention of the nightbeast that caused his unease. Justan wasn’t quite sure which.

Beltry pointed. “This way. I already have a target picked out.”

The archer led him eastward through the camp and Justan’s bonded flanked them, occasionally startling the Roo-Tan men that were putting away their tents for the day’s journey. Gwyrtha emulated Deathclaw’s style, peering around at everyone as if they were a threat. She enjoyed playing the protector.

“Sorry about the awkwardness back there, son of Chersel” Justan said as they walked. “Jhonate has a habit of springing surprises on me.”

“That’s just the way she is,” Beltry said with a shrug and Justan was struck by the easy way that the man talked. He sounded so laid back. It was such a contrast to the proper speech of Jhonate and her brothers. “She was like that as a kid, even. Jhonate gets an idea in her head and just goes for it, expecting everyone else to follow. And it works for her. She usually gets her way.”

“She does at that,” Justan replied. “So, uh, son of Chersel, how far away is this target?”

“You can call me Beltry,” the archer said off-hand as they passed the last row of tents. He pointed into the trees. “The targets are just a short way from here. I found the spot while I was out, uh, . . . starting a swamp last night.”

Justan’s eyebrows rose. “You are letting me use your name that easy?”

Beltry snorted. “Most of our people aren’t as concerned with the old proper traditions as the Leeths family. Besides, you are Jhonate’s betrothed. If she wishes to marry you how could you not deserve my respect?”

“Well, thank you,” Justan replied. “I wasn’t expecting such an easy time with the nephew of Alexis bin Hoon.”

The man winced. “Please don’t give me that title. Aunt Alexis isn’t exactly my favorite person. Nor is she my father’s favorite sister. When she was married off to Xedrion, most of the family was relieved to see her go. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t too surprised when I heard that Xedrion had her put under arrest.”

“Yeah, she didn’t seem like a very fun person to be around,” Justan commented. He had only met the woman once and that had been enough.

“Besides,” said Beltry, with a shrug. “I feel like I owe you. After all, I almost killed your rogue horse.”

“You what?” Justan said in surprise.

“You didn’t recognize me? I was one of the archers who fired at your rogue horse during the battle the other day,” he admitted. “I thought it was going after you and Jhonate. My first arrow struck it in the belly and as for my second . . . I have to say I was quite impressed with the way you caught it out of the air.”

Justan hadn’t known who had fired that last shot. He had been too preoccupied with protecting the rogue horse from it. “Your arrow came inches from piercing her eye. That was an amazing shot.”

“Yes, well-.” Beltry froze as Gwyrtha appeared in front of him. She brought her muzzle inches from his face and pulled back her lips, exposing her wicked front teeth. A low growl rumbled in her throat.

Tell him to say sorry
, she said.

“You may want to apologize to her,” Justan told him. He sent soothing emotions to the rogue horse through the bond. “Her name is Gwyrtha. She won’t mind you using it as long as you’re nice.”

“Right, uh, I am sorry, Gwyrtha,” Beltry said, offering a hesitant smile. “If I had known who you were, I wouldn’t have fired.”

Hmph
. She snorted and turned away, smacking the side of his legs with her tail as she went, causing him to stumble. He caught his balance and watched her warily as she sauntered into the trees.

You had better forgive him. It was an accident
. Justan told her. He received another
hmph
in reply.

“Don’t worry, she has forgiven you,” Justan assured the man though, in truth, he wasn’t completely sure. She was known to hold grudges.

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Beltry said and Justan saw sweat beading on his forehead. “Uh, it’s right here.” He stopped in front of a fallen log and pointed through the trees. “Do you see those masks?”

Spring had come to this part of Malaroo and the morning chill was already fading. The trees in this area were mostly evergreens, but they weren’t fir trees like Justan was used to. They had thick waxy leaves that resisted the mild winters. The few trees that had lost their leaves over the winter were now covered in green shoots, giving the area a vibrant lush feel.

Justan saw the masks immediately, attached to tree trunks in varying distances from where he stood. They were hard to miss, wooden masks carved in the shape of grimacing faces. The masks were garishly painted in red and white runes. “Yeah. I see them.”

“We found them back at the ‘Dan campsite after the battle,” Beltry said, referring to the Roo-Dan. Justan had heard several of the Roo-Tan warriors refer to their savage cousins simply as the ‘Dan’. “I like to use them for target practice because they are easy to see in the distance. Plus, the runes they paint on them make them more durable too. They can usually take a few arrows without shattering.”

“Alright,” Justan said pulling Ma’am off of his shoulder. He reached for an arrow and looked down the range at the various masks. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, before you fire anything, you should tell me what you know about Jharro weapons,” Beltry said. “Oh, and I will need to know what you would like me to call you. ‘Jhonate’s betrothed’ works but it seems like an awkward title for a warrior like yourself.”

“Please, call me Sir Edge,” Justan said, inclining his head towards the man. “Any friend of Jhonate’s is deserving of my respect.” This was only his second day among the Roo-Tan and he was already finding this name/respect thing tiresome. He was going to have to ask Sir Hilt how he got around it. “Besides, the Bowl of Souls gave me this name. I don’t think it’s within my rights to decide who can and who can’t use it.”

“Very well. Sir Edge,” Beltry said, nodding in approval. “Jhexin said that you have only recently communed with your tree. How recently is that?”

“It was a couple of weeks ago,” Justan said, feeling awkward admitting it. “But that’s just because Jhonate hadn’t told me anything about that ‘communing with the tree’ thing until then. I’ve actually been using the bow for over two years now.”

“That’s interesting,” Beltry said. “I’ve never met someone who’s gone about it that way. Though I suppose I should have known by all the carvings on your bow. This is going to either make things much easier for you or make them very hard. It depends on what bad habits you’ve developed.”

“What about the carvings on my bow?” Justan asked. He looked down at the detailed shallow designs that covered Ma’am’s surface.

“Those are maker’s marks,” Beltry explained. “When the elves first pull the wood from the Jharro tree, the wood is without purpose. They carve those designs to tell the weapon what it is going to be. This way the Jharro weapons keep their form until their users are ready. The longer you use your weapon, and the more that the weapon becomes in tune with you, the more of those markings fade.”

Justan ran his fingers along his bow, feeling the textures of the carvings. “That’s too bad. I like the designs.” It made sense though, now that he thought about it. Jhonate’s staff had very few carvings in it and Yntri Yni’s bow had none that he had been able to see. He looked at Beltry’s walking staff and saw only two shallow curving designs carved into it.

“So is that a mark of prestige among your people?” he asked, grumbling inwardly at yet another detail that Jhonate had failed to mention. “The less markings, the better you know the tree?”

“It doesn’t mean as much as all that,” Beltry said with a shrug. “We’re humans, not elves. With a few rare exceptions, the trees pay only minor attention to us. The amount of carvings on your bow tells me something about your relationship with your weapon, but that hasn’t got anything to do with how well you know your tree.”

Beltry could see that Justan wasn’t entirely grasping the concept. He lifted the walking staff in front of him. “Each weapon has a personality of its own. The more time you spend using your Jharro weapon and getting to know its personality, the more it gets to know you and what you need from it. That’s when the markings fade.