Gideon's Spear (13 page)

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Authors: Darby Karchut

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BOOK: Gideon's Spear
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“Spear, eh? Curious that your grandfather would school you in the use of the assegai…” He stopped and rolled his eyes when both boys started snickering. “Do they do that
every
time someone says assegai?” he asked Savannah, sending the boys into another round of snorting.

“Every. Time.” She sighed and shook her head. “So, Mr. Lir? Can I try it now?”

“Certainly. And Rafe? Go and fetch your asse…er…
spear
.” Gideon glared at the boys, daring them to start laughing. “I'd like to see a demonstration of what you can do.”

Rafe gave a nod, still laughing, and jogged across the yard. He disappeared around the side of the house. The gate clanged shut a moment later. Meanwhile, Savannah wiped her hand on her jeans and took a stance in front of the bag.

Joining Finn by one of the support poles, Gideon nodded toward the girl. “A quick study, the lass is. See how she's gripping the handle right behind the tang, just as I showed her earlier.”

“So what?
I
do that.” Finn reminded his master.
So she can hold her knife correctly. Big deal
.

“After I reminded you dozens of times.” Gideon raised his voice. “Are you ready, miss?”

“Hang on a sec.” Savannah stooped down to retie her shoes. “Now, I'm ready.” She balanced on her toes and waited, a fierceness in her dark eyes.

“Don't go all girly if you can't stab it right away.” Finn tightened his grip in preparation. “It's harder than it looks.”

“Yeah, you'd know about being all ‘girly,'” she retorted, to Gideon's delight. “Okay, show me what you got.”

An odd resentfulness niggled at Finn. With a grunt, he hauled on the rope as hard as he could.

She lunged. There was a flash of bronze. A ripping sound. Then wadded-up balls of newspaper poured out of a rent in the side of the bag. They spilled out onto the bare dirt, leaving the bag swinging limply back and forth like the carcass of a dead animal. With a gasp of astonishment, she spun around at Gideon's shout of
gle mhaith
. A smile spread across her face, making her dimples dance.

“Did you see that? Score!” She waved the knife in the air with excitement, almost nicking the Knight's face when he stepped over to congratulate her.

He pulled back just in time. “Well done, Savannah. But you might want to watch where you swing that thing. I'm partial to my nose,” he said with a trace of a wink.

“Oh. Sorry.” She grinned up at him when he patted her shoulder.

“Finn? Go fetch another sack. They're under the sink in the kitchen.”

Before Finn could move, Savannah spun around and headed for the house. “No, I'll get it,” she called over her shoulder. “I'm the one who ruined this one.”

I can't believe she nailed it the first time
, Finn thought, staring at her retreating form. He wasn't sure if he was impressed or jealous. Or something else. Glancing over, he found his master studying him.

“What?”

“Why, nothing. Nothing at all.” The corner of Gideon's mouth twitched as he turned to untie the empty bag.

A few moments later, Savannah appeared with an old potato sack. At the same time, Rafe came trotting around the side of the house, spear in one hand.

“What happened?” Rafe asked, staring at the ruined bag as he joined them.

“I did it,” Savannah said, studying the blade of her weapon with an air of nonchalance that fooled no one. “On my first try.”

Finn and Rafe looked at each other, dismay mirrored in both of their faces.

After the three youths stuffed the new bag with the balls of newspaper, Gideon attached it to the cable, then waved Finn and Savannah off to one side.

“May I?' The Knight held out his hand. Rafe handed him the spear. With a practiced eye, Gideon examined it, testing its bronze spear point against the ball of his thumb. Stabbing the air a few times with it, he gave a nod of approval. “‘Tis a lovely weapon. Well balanced and made for war.”

“It seems short for a spear,” Finn said.

“The assegai was designed for close-quarters fighting.” Gideon handed it back and indicated for Rafe to take a position in front of the dummy. “More for stabbing than throwing.”

“Yeah, that's what Grandfather said. He made me practice a lot before we left.” Rafe moved over to the bag. Holding the spear at shoulder height, he tightened his jaw.

“Right, then.” The Knight grasped the guy rope. “Whenever you're ready.”

As Finn watched, Rafe whispered something under his breath. “What's he saying?” he asked Savannah.

“‘
Nants ingonyama bagithi.'
It's Zulu. The chant means ‘here comes a lion.' I figured, since you had the Song, we needed a chant, too, so I took this from
The Lion King
movie. You know, be as brave and strong as a lion.”

“Or a lioness,” Gideon added. “And, as we all know, the female is the true hunter of the pride, eh, lass?”

“Absolutely.” Savannah tossed her knife into the air with a cocky grin. It flipped end over end, and then stuck point-first into the dirt less than an inch from Finn's foot.

“Hey—watch it.” Finn retrieved the weapon, then held it out of reach. “Girls shouldn't play with knives, anyway.” Holding it above his head, he laughed in her face when she jumped around him, trying to grab it back.

“Finnegan MacCullen,” Gideon barked. “Give Savannah her weapon. Savannah, do not drop the blade into the dirt—it ruins the edge.” He shook his head. “Running a bleedin' nursery, I am,” he muttered under his breath. “Rafe, are you ready, boyo?”

Rafe gave a curt nod. The bag leaped into the air. He stabbed and missed. Frowning, he took a step back, giving himself more room. The bag flew upward again. This time, he lunged forward and impaled it dead center. He yanked the spear free. Finding his rhythm, Rafe stabbed the bag again and again as Gideon pulled on the guy rope as hard as he could, urging the boy to keep going. Sweat began to trickle down the boy's face. Gasping for breath, he danced around the dummy with moves that would make an NBA player jealous.

And Finn, too, for just a moment. Then, the memory of Rafe and Savannah standing shoulder to shoulder with him, ready to defend each other against the Amandán, swept over him. He cheered when Gideon shouted for Savannah to join her brother.

For ten minutes, the twins battled the dummy, complaining when they ran into each other but striking the bag more times than not. Rafe finished with a thrust that sent the guy rope whipping through Gideon's hand.

“Why didn't you tell me you guys were so good?” Finn walked over and punched his friend lightly on the shoulder. “I think I'll take those knives back.”

Savannah shook her head. “Over Rafe's dead body,” she panted.

“Hey!” Rafe protested.

“Well, that's enough for today,” Gideon said as he looped the guy rope around one of the posts. “You two best return home now. We'll train again tomorrow. And keep those weapons hidden, but handy.” He nodded at their thanks.

Finn escorted them around the side of the house as far as the corner. He watched as they jogged across the street, Rafe trying to trip Savannah with the butt of the spear. After a final wave, they disappeared inside. With a sigh, Finn turned and headed back.

“That was fun, training with them. I wish we could do it without sneaking around,” he said, following his master across the yard.

“As do I. Now, for our own workout.” Gideon led the way over to a tall plank leaning against the back wall, which bore the outline of a life-size goblin. The beast was marred by gouges in the wood, especially in the head and chest region.

Waiting off to one side for his turn, Finn studied his master. A glint of mischief lit up his eyes while the Knight prepared. “Hey, Gideon. I bet you can't stick your knife all the way
through
the board.”

“And what would you be wagering?”

Finn thought for a moment. “Loser has to mow the lawn.”

“You already mow the lawn. Next wager.”

“Take out the garbage?”

“Again, one of your chores.”

“A dollar?”

“Show me the money.”

“Um…”

Gideon laughed. “The loser shall wash the truck.” After removing his denim shirt and tossing it to one side, he shook out his arms to warm up. Then, he pulled his knife out of the belt sheath from under his tee and took a stance in front of the board, chanting in a low voice.

Ye gods, he's strong
. Finn watched with a sinking feeling as the Knight plunged the weapon into the thick plank as if it were a block of cheese, then out again.
And fast
. He flinched when a sliver of wood sailed past his ear.
Maybe I shouldn't have made that bet
.

Working his way from head to chest and back again, Gideon stabbed the form with blinding speed, the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining with every blow. He picked up speed. Red sunlight flashed off the blade. With a final shout, he plunged the blade up to the hilt into the chest. The tip burst through the back and screeched against the stone wall, sending sparks shooting out from either side.

Gideon halted. Chest heaving, he sucked in a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. With a ghost of a smile, he jerked his head toward the house. “Bucket and rags are under the sink. And sweep out the cab while you're at it.”

Eighteen

T
he Journal of Finnegan MacCullen: July 19th

First day training with Rafe and Savannah. They caught on pretty fast. Faster than I thought they would, being mortals and not really growing up learning how to hunt. Rafe's wicked good with that spear. He told me he wished he could carry
that
with him instead of the knife, but there's just no practical way. And Savannah. Man, is she fast! And she knows it, too. Girls are so arrogant.

What I Learned Today:

I don't know if this counts, but I learned more about Kean and how he died. I see why Gideon distrusts Iona so much. I do, too. It felt really weird listening to him talk about his son. But I wasn't sad for Kean. I was sad for Gideon.

Seems like he and I spend a lot of time being sad. For the same reason.

The Journal of Gideon Lir: July 29

I've enjoyed working with the Steel children these last two weeks. Rafe is rapidly mastering the knife as well as the assegai, while Savannah's speed and accuracy is impressive. The fighting skill of their ancestors' blood sings through them. As it does for Finn.

Zulu or Celt, African or Irish, they all hear the call. A different drum beat, perhaps, but the same magic.

* * *

Lounging on the top step of the porch in the morning sun, Finn glanced across the yard through the gate as the Steels' garage door rumbled open. Half-hidden by wall and hedge, Finn watched covertly as Mr. Steel drove away. As the man disappeared down the street, another vehicle turned the corner.

Finn craned his neck. He brightened when a familiar red Jeep with a mangled bumper and two figures in the front seat drew nearer. Jumping off the steps, he trotted through the gate and around to the driveway, meeting the vehicle as it pulled in behind Gideon's truck with a crunch of gravel. Its engine gulped, then died.

“Top of the morning to ye, lad,” Mac Roth boomed as he stepped out. “Were ye expecting us, then?”

“Actually, I was waiting for Rafe and Savannah. Hey, Lochlan,” he said when the other apprentice walked around the front of the vehicle, his movements slow and stiff. “How's your second week of training treating you?”

“As the old saying goes, like a baby treats its diaper…well, you know the rest.” Lochlan's grin turned into a frown of confusion at Mac Roth's expression. “What? I'm just saying—”

“Ye're always
just saying
something.” He shook his head. “Finn, is yer master home?”

“Yeah, he's getting some stuff ready.”

They turned around at the sound of a car starting up. Dr. Steel's Volvo station wagon backed down their driveway. Spotting the trio, she pulled over and powered down the window.

“Good morning, Finn,” she called, her smile warm.

“Hi, Mrs. Steel.” Remembering his manners, he gestured toward the Knight. “Uh, this is Mac Roth, an old friend of Gideon's.”

Strutting like a supersized rooster, Mac Roth stepped closer. “‘Tis an honor to meet ye, madam.” He jerked his chin over a shoulder. “The fair-haired one is mine. Lochlan, come show off yer pretty manners.”

She started to speak, then paused, her smile dimming as she peered intently at the flash of gold around Mac Roth's throat. When Lochlan and Finn joined the Knight, she studied their faces and gave a little laugh. “How odd. You all have the exact same shade of blue eyes. It reminds me of…” She shook her head, her voice trailing off.

“Reminds you of what?” Lochlan blurted out. As usual.

“Oh, just someone I know in South Africa.” She glanced down at the
bing-bing
of her cell phone. “I better go. It was nice to meet all of you. Finn.” With a wave of a slender hand, she drove away.

Mac Roth stared after her. “Now that, me boyos, is a fine lady.”

“She's married, you know,” Finn pointed out.

“Aye, but I can appreciate the art without owning the museum.”

Finn looked at Lochlan in confusion. Lochlan shrugged. “I don't think I want to know.”

“Hey, Finn.” A voice called from across the street. “Is the coast clear?”

The Knight and the apprentices turned around. Savannah stood on the far sidewalk. The morning sun cast her face in shadow, but created a dusky halo around her head. Dressed in jean shorts cuffed at the knees, and a T-shirt adorned with a picture of Nelson Mandela, she shifted from foot to foot and waited until Finn waved her over. She kept her knife close to her leg to conceal it from nosy neighbors.

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