Sold

Hushed voices slipped around the door.

The boys shared a look as they strained to hear what was said. They scrambled away as the baby wailed in the main room.

Candlelight spilled into the corridor, chasing them down to their room. They dove beneath the blankets and pretended to sleep.

“Good night Meithose, Sevelin,” whispered a melodic female voice from the doorway. “Go to sleep and quit sneaking out.”

The door clicked softly closed.

“Wonder what they were arguing about,” Sevelin grumbled.

Meithose shrugged, knowing he couldn’t be seen. “I don’t know. Probably the same thing pa and Lorelae always argue about.”

In short order, Sevelin snored soundly.

Meithose lay awake, staring out the window at the night sky. The moon, a sliver and partially hidden by clouds, seemed to smile down at him. Beyond it, the late spring constellations danced about their circuit in the heavens.

As the sun crested the horizon, Meithose woke and made his way to the barn to begin his chorse. He was nearly finished when Sevelin burst into the barn wide-eyed and pale.

“What . . .” the older twin started to ask, and then his gaze fell on his father, sister, and strange old man striding up behind Sevelin.

“Meithose,” Lorelea began as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “this is Master Ryohei. He’s going to his temple in the mountains. You’re going to learn to be a great warrior.”

The boy narrowed his gaze and studied his father. To his dismay, the man could not meet his eye. His scowl deepened as he watched the elf clutch tight to the garnet pendant at his throat. “No,” the boy retorted and shook his head.

The old man stepped forward and laughed heartily. “Clever boy,” he praised. “I like you. You’ll do well in my temple. Your sister spoke the truth about that. I am a master of the Kenchido style of martial arts. Those who complete their training are among the greatest martial artists in all Terra.”

He shoved his fists on his hips. “What if I don’t want to be a warrior?”

His sister opened her mouth to respond, but the ancient man held up his hand to cut her off. “What would you like to be, then?”

Slowly, bright blue eyes swept around the barn and the farm beyond. With a heavy sigh, he trudged toward the house. He gathered up his change of clothes and shoved them into a small sack.

Lorelea fell to her knees and wrapped the boy in a warm embrace. “Be strong, Meithose.”

Without a backward glance, the boy set out behind the old man.