Andreina was scarfing down her meat. She knew that her new husband did not like her manners at table but it wasn’t like she couldn’t do better, and he knew that, she had eaten very politely at the variuos restaraunts on their honey trip. But she was constantly starving. Indeed she was growing... popping out muscles in places she didn’t know that could have muscles.
She heard a lad passing behind her mumble something about ‘ugly manners and ugly woman’ but she didn’t care, she was...
Suddenly she registered two things: her husband was now standing and facing behind her, and there was a tremendous crash, also behind her. She turned to look and there was a lad laying on the ground staunching a bleeding nose. Standing over him was her husband, massaging one of his hands but standing very ready indeed.
“I”ll see you cashiered for that,” the lad on the ground said, with a rather nasal voice as he was trying to pinch off the blood.
“If thou wilt stand up we can discuss the matter,” her husband said, sounding almost ominous. She stared at him in awe. She didn’t care if they got kicked out of training; It wouldn’t void her contract. I ndeed the army would probably still take them.
The crowd around the two lads opened up and an instructor walked in. Andreina quailed, not really wanting to see her husband beaten. And she hoped he wouldn’t take it out on her.
But the instructor walked over to the lad on the ground, looked at him with a frown, and asked, “Well, art thou going to apologize, or get up and fight?”
The lad got up and dusted himself off. “I did nothing I need to apologize for...” he managed before, this time, Andreina got to see her husband hit him.
“What?” the lad spluttered. Her husband’s blow had turned him completely around, but he turned around on all fours and looked up. “Aren’t you going to do something?” he asked the instructor. “He should be cashiered!”
The instructor shook his head. “Thou art very confused, son. First of all, this is a clan training camp, so I can’t ‘cashier’ anyone. Secondly, why would I cashier someone who is training for the army... for fighting?”
“Now, as I said before, either apologise, or start fighting.”
The lad paused for a second and then launched himself at her husband. Who met his rush from the ground with a kick to the chest, causing the lad to gasp and fall back down.
Andreina turned back and picked up her bowl and bread, watching with amusement. Some people just don’t listen.
The lad gasped something, and the supervisor bent down. “What was that?”
“I apologise for my ill advised words.”
“Thy what?” her husband asked.
“My extremely ill advised words,” the lad said.
“Very well,” her husband said, and turned to sit back down.
“Where didst thou learn to fight?” the lad across from them asked.
“My oldest brother loved fighting. Perforce the rest of us went along.”
“Did he go for the Army?”
Her husband nodded, “Killed on Venetar V. Had four offspring first, though. His widow remarried, but we still see them.”
“Good for her,” the lad said. “I hate widows who stand on contract.”
“I think sometimes it is written into the new contract,” her husband replied. “The new husband wishes a clean break, and for his new offspring to bond with their new family. I can’t say I agree, but I certainly understand.”
Andreina marvelled at this insight into her new husband. She hadn’t asked about his older siblings.
Lorcan walked with his arm around his wife in the middle of the group of trainees. All in their shorts, their army numbers blazing proudly from their chests and backs, and all singing a rather bawdy song. Or, rather, most of them, anyway. His wife was contenting herself with leaning up against him. She would sing in worship, but didn’t seem to appreciate camp songs much. And all marching off toward town, for their first ‘shore leave’, or break from training camp.
“What shall we do in town?” One of the men in front yelled.
There were dozens of replies, some of them indecent.
“What do you want to do?” Lorcan asked his wife.
“I hear they have a nice hot tub,” she said.
“For this evening? That sounds relaxing.”
“I have muscles that hurt in places I didn’t know I had muscles,” his wife replied.
“Before that?”
“I just want to spend time with you,” she said, and leaned against him.
“How are you doing?” He asked. There was never any good time to ask this in the barracks, everyone always seemed to be listening.
“I’m just sore,” she said. “If we can get some privacy I’d love it if you gave me a backrub. We had to carry these heavy packs up the cliff the last few days and my back is killing me.”
“Yeah, Ok, fine, but I was talking about the army and all, and training and all. Are you OK with our going out for the army?”
She gave him a funny look, “It’s a bit late for that, my husband. Our parents would kill us if we had to give that money back, and we’re already all signed in with the clan.”
“Well, but we don’t have to be far colonists, if you don’t want to.”
She leaned against him and they walked along for quite a while, so long he thought she had forgotten his question. Not that it was really a question…
“No,” she said, finally. “I think you have made a good decision. It is a hard decision, I will grant thee that. But a good one.”
Suddenly Lorcan became aware that the crowd was chanting. “Brodies Brunch” he heard, with very few dissenting voices.
“Xena told me about that,” his wife said. “It sounds fun. They have all of these long tables, and all the waiters are jugglers, and throw knives and things back and forth. At night they do torches, but they lay in a good brunch. Oh, and they kill a pig right there… which sounds gross to me, I’ve had to do enough of my own butchering, but apparently is a big attraction.”
“Do you want to go?”
“I don’t think we have much choice,” she said. “We don’t want to stand out as droopy. But afterwards lets get off together, just the two of us.”
—
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Von