Runaway (The Knight Society #1)

The smell of cheese and meat had my mouth watering before I even saw a slice. As soon as the boxes were set down on the table, I lunged at them and inhaled my first piece which was quickly followed by a second. By the time I had reached for a third, I'd slowed down enough to remember the three other people in the room. Thankfully, they were deep in discussion, meaning my lack in manners was overlooked. Eating at a slightly more dignified pace, I tuned in. Ed was apparently informing the other two on something gossipy.

“I heard that this year's fighting instructor was changed last minute. Krug will be the one teaching the recruits combat instead of Alicia.”

Avery let out a large groan and disappointment was clear on Victoria’s face.

“No way,” I breathed and they all turned to me surprised.

“You know him?” Ed asked.

“Oh, we’ve met.”

Alistair Krug was one of the Societies best fighters. He was a ruthless, giant of a man who had no problem with cutting down anything in his way in order to get to his target. Back when I lived in the London Institute he'd had the absolute pleasure of teaching me. We, of course, hated each other at first sight, eventually though, our relationship had evolved into mutual begrudging respect.

“Why doesn’t that sound like a good thing?” Avery asked.

Probably because it wasn’t. I knew for a fact that Krug hated to leave London and if he was being dragged up here to teach kids for a whole year then there had to be a reason. Something told me that the reason probably had something to do with me. Brushing aside Avery’s comment, I instead tried to deflect back onto them.

“Have you guys ever had him as an instructor before?” I asked.

“Nope, but I know a guy who was taught by him and he said it was the most brutal year of his whole life.” Ed replied and I laughed.

“Brutal doesn’t even begin to cover it.” The three of them fell silent and I could see the worry growing in their eyes. “Let’s just say he is as much a Neanderthal as his name sounds.” I said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Why? Is he a bad instructor?” Asked Victoria.

Thankfully, she was too young to have to worry about dealing with him. You couldn’t become a Knight in training till you turned thirteen.

“Oh no, he’s an excellent fighter and not a half bad instructor but he’s just a bit...” Struggling for words, I racked my brain for the best descriptor.

“Of an arse.” A deep voice from behind me supplied.

I turned to find Uncle John standing in the doorway, decked out in full Knight gear.

I grinned up at him, “Yeah that.”

He smiled back at me, “Hey squirt, could you meet me in the training room in ten?”

I nodded and after a quick wave he disappeared into the hallway once more. I turned back around again.

“Any of you know how to get to the training room?” I asked.

Ed darted a quick glance at Avery and then to me. A smile curled his lips and I inwardly groaned.

“Avery can show you. Victoria and I have stuff to do anyway.”

Victoria took a moment to catch on but after she realised what was happening she jumped off the couch, “Yeah, that thing we have to do.”

Quality actors these two. Ed and Victoria practically ran out of the room leaving Avery and I sitting in an awkward silence.

He regarded me with a look of annoyance and my temper reared its head, “What is your problem?”

A look of guilt flashed over his features. Reaching up he scratched the back of his neck, “Look about earlier. At dinner that is. I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Some of the fire dimmed but I still eyed him warily waiting for the snide laughter.

“What I said was way out of line.” He said gravely.

“Yeah it was.” I interrupted and his lips twitched into a smile before the guilt overwhelmed it again.

"My only excuse is that after watching you fight those mongrels, I realised how much danger Victoria truly had been in. I was pissed off at myself for not taking better care of her, and I wrongly took it out on you."

I felt myself softening toward him. It took guts to apologise and admit you were wrong, and Avery was certainly doing it with class. I knew I wouldn't be quite so graceful in his position.

“Anyway could we just, I don’t know, start over or something?” He asked and I squirmed under the sincerity shining in his eyes.

God, this guy could charm just about anything.

“Okay.” I said begrudgingly.

For the first time, he smiled at me and I had to correct my earlier assessment. His smile wasn't good, it was freaking fantastic. My heart pounded in my chest and my stomach flipped. That grin should come with a health and safety warning attached.

Clearing my throat I stood up, “So you going to show me to the training room or what?”

He grinned and stood up. Leading the way, we walked the short journey in silence, for which I was immensely grateful. This was the most talking I had done in two years and the short reprieve was welcome. We stopped at a large door labelled Training Room and Avery said his goodbye’s. Seizing the handle, I opened the door to reveal a large open space. In the centre of the room was a large mat used for sparring, a level above it a balcony lined three of the walls. Designed for spectators to watch the action below. In the centre of the mat stood Uncle John, he was winding tape around his hands but paused for a second as I entered.

“Hey, Squirt. Tape up.”

He chucked me a roll and I began the process of wrapping my knuckles. It had been a long time since I had done it, but after years and years spent sparring with people the action was like second nature. After we were both done, he picked up a couple of pads which were designed to be held by one person whilst the other punched and kicked. Without talking, we ran through a few of the simpler routines, gradually increasing in difficulty and speed. We swapped turns, holding the pad for each other as we went. Finally, when we were both sweating and out of breath Uncle John put down the pad and signalled for me to join him on the floor. Plopping down, I began to stretch, loosening and cooling down my muscles. As a nice bonus, it provided me something to do while Uncle John launched into whatever talk he had prepared.

“I hear you’re thinking of skipping out again.” He cut right to the chase.

I silently cursed Pierre. I had hoped I would have been able to leave before Uncle John found out, but looks like that was just shot to shit. Shrugging, I focused on stretching the muscles in my calves.

“Yeah, I’m planning on hitting the road again.” I said casually.

He waited patiently but I refused to meet his eyes. Finally, after an age, he huffed a laugh, “Still just as stubborn.”

I let a wry smile curl my lips, “Would you love me if I was any other way?” I quipped and his eyes grew serious.

“You know I love you regardless of anything.”

I felt the sting in my eyes and the tears begin to well.

“Jill loved you too. She would have wanted you to have this.”

Reaching into his pocket he tugged out a necklace that I recognised immediately. Attached to a simple silver chain, hung a locket with an elegant circular design. I already knew what was inside, but I opened it anyway, unable to help the tears that spilled down my cheeks at the sight of the familiar photo.

It was a picture of Uncle John, Aunt Jill, Thomas and I all together after a trip to the zoo. Thomas and I were about ten when the photo was taken and we were wearing these ridiculous animal hats. Aunt Jill’s smiling face stared back at me and a sob worked its way up my throat.

Ever respectful, Uncle John understood my need to grieve in private and after a quick kiss on the head and a whispered “See you in the morning squirt.” he left the training room.

Clutching the locket to my chest, I gave myself over to the sobs that had been wanting to burst free ever since I had learned of Aunt Jill’s death. I cried for her and for Uncle John and looking at that photo, I cried for all I had lost.