Chapter 7: Weak
661 standard years after the signing of the Alliance treaty
By the time Hathu dismissed his team for the day it was nearing dark. Some of them were probably going to be late for supper. Hathu had jotted down a mass of new notes on his electronic tablet about how the team members had performed and interacted with each other. He would transfer his observations to his paper notebook at home and use them to shape his strategy and training plans for the next few days.
He paused for a moment outside the door of his parent’s home, preparing himself to face whatever mood his father would be in tonight. He opened the door and stepped inside.
His father was sitting at the head of the table, his mother next to him. They were eating supper. The large tankard Nediz drank beer out of was near his plate. Gemma was in the kitchen.
“Hathu!” His father roared. “Come in! How is training going, team leader?”
Hathu came to stand by his father’s chair. He focused on keeping his breathing even. “Training is going well, Father. Thank you.” His father had been drinking for a while. The stench of alcohol on his breath was overwhelming.
Hathu’s mother continued to eat as if nothing had changed. Her face was drawn and pale.
“Hathu, come on. Let loose a little. Celebrate!” Nediz roughly shook Hathu’s shoulder.
Hathu didn’t know what to say to that so he said nothing.
Nediz let out a displeased grunt. “Well, sit down. Eat your supper.” He gestured to the chair beside him, across from Hathu’s mother and turned towards the kitchen, “Slave! Serve the boy.”
“Yes master.” Gemma called softly from the kitchen.
Hathu stiffly sat where his father had indicated.
Nediz leaned conspiratorially towards him. “How did Armis do on his first day in team training?”
Hathu swallowed. “I didn’t pick him for my team, father.”
“What? Why not? He should have been your first pick. He’s your blood.” Nediz’s voice was turning towards irritation dangerously fast.
“I didn’t want his achievements to be overshadowed by being on my team father. Besides what fun is a competition where one team clearly has all the advantages?”
Nediz leaned towards Hathu. “You should always take every advantage available. Not doing so is weakness.”
Hathu pressed his lips together.
“Besides that’s not what you told your team today. Making them pledge to you, telling them ‘blue team is going to win the first three points of the game’” Nediz laughed. “You’re such a pathetic excuse for an Ir’Klahn.”
Hathu’s hands clenched into fists in his lap. He hadn’t thought that Korish would spy for his father.
“You try to walk the way of the sage, thinking that will give you superiority over those who follow the path of the prime.” Nediz sneered. He drank deeply from his tankard. “How can you possibly be of my seed?” Nediz swung his shaggy head towards his wife.
Hathu’s eyes jumped to his mother. She was trembling. She sat with her head bowed and her eyes closed. A tear streaked down her cheek.
“Who planted this pathetic runt inside you, you cheating whore?”
She shook her head. “Please, Nediz. I’ve always been loyal to you. Only you.”
“Have you?” Nediz stood up and began unbuckling his belt.
Hathu leaned back in his chair and laughed. “I think I’m starting to understand, father. To be a truly great warrior, I should hunt and attack the weakest and most pathetic prey I can find.”
Nediz whipped around to face him. “What did you say?” His voice was harsher than usual. His eyes had lost their color, his irises thinning and disappearing into the black of his eyes.
Hathu smiled sardonically at his father and spoke slowly and clearly. “I said, you’re a coward.” He didn’t move to defend himself as his father pounced on him. That would only make things worse.
Pain exploded in his face, then in his stomach and then his ribs. Hathu wasn’t sure how long it was before the beating stopped.
He became vaguely aware that he was pinned to the floor. The next thing he noticed was that he couldn’t breath because the fingers of one of his father’s hands was wrapped around his throat. Hathu’s hands were clutching at his father’s wrist.
“I’ve put up with the disgrace you bring my name long enough.” Nediz snarled against Hathu’s cheek. “There’s going to be a hunt in two weeks, you will join it; either as a hunter, or as prey. Understand?”
Hathu nodded. His father abruptly let go of his throat and Hathu gasped in a lungful of air.
“Come, Arez.” Nediz snarled.
Hathu rolled onto his side and coughed hoarsely. He gasped in another breath. Every inch of his body was screaming in pain. Gentle fingers touched his forehead. Hathu flinched.
“Are you okay, master?” Gemma’s voice was full of tears.
Hathu reached up and took hold of Gemma’s hand. He squeezed it gently and forced his aching body to gasp in another breath. His chest was on fire. He lay still till he was able to catch his breath, his fingers wrapped around Gemma’s small comforting hand. Her tears dropping into his hair.
Once his breathing seemed to be more regular, Hathu let go of Gemma and sat up. It was a bit of a struggle, but he made it. “Do we have ice, Gemma? I think father hit my face pretty hard.”
“He hit your everything pretty hard, master.” Gemma muttered tearfully. “Yes, we have ice.”
“Can you…” he leaned forward and using the chair to help him he struggled to his feet. He swayed for a moment, then he took his hands off the chair and unsteadily made his way towards the kitchen. “Can you get me some ice?”
Gemma slipped into the kitchen ahead of him and began preparing an ice for him. “Are you still interested in eating, master?” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, worry etched over her face.
Hathu let out an amused huff of air, then clutched at his middle, as pain shot through him. It took a moment before he could speak again. “No, I’m not hungry, thank you Gemma.”
Gemma came over and put the ice pack in his hands. “If you need anything else, master, please let me know. You…might need your ribs wrapped before you go to training tomorrow.”
Hathu nodded and pressed the ice pack to his swollen eye. “Thank you, Gemma.”