Sixth Son: Villager in Another World 4

Four.

The pain didn’t hit until the object had been pulled free. I bit down on my lip as Tertius pulled me close. Dad and Ma came in and demanded from Primus to know what the commotion was.

He led them over to us. It grew too crowded with everyone near us, so Dad tried to send everyone else away, but Tertius refused to leave my side. It took some convincing, but he got Tertius to pass me over to Ma.

Dad took over putting pressure on the wound. Ma left the room and came back with linen and a some leaves that she used to dress the wound. I bit my lip and a whimper down as she worked on the wound.

Tertius stood close to my side of the room with his arms crossed. His usually gentle features were furrowed in a stony glare that was bathed in garish red light as the fire was banked. Quintus shrank in the opposite corner near the fireplace.

“What happened?” Dad growled.

“I woke up to see Quintus holding my arm, and then he stabbed me with that,” I answered.

I pointed to the thin object with a darkened tip. It resembled a somewhat long nail and looked smaller on the ground.

“Is that true?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he answered.

My other brothers were surprised, but Quartus’s eyes popped in shock.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, I meant to just give him a poke, but then he struggled. Then I accidentally stuck him when he swung his arm at me, I didn’t mean to stick him so deeply. I swear to the Gods,” Quintus said in a soft voice.

Dad rose. He trembled in rage as Quintus flinched. Ma laid her hand on Dad’s arm.

“Why?” Ma asked quietly. “Why did you hurt your brother?”

“This morning, Markus said that Sextus didn’t look like the rest of us and might be a changeling.”

“I birthed him myself as I did you, you fool,” Ma said in disgust.

“I thought to prove that he wasn’t a changeling by poking Sextus with an iron nail.”

“Did Markus give you the nail?” Quartus asked.

Quintus nodded. Quartus slapped the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot, don’t you see that he was egging you on?” Quartus asked.

“I see it, now,” Quintus said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean to hurt you Sextus.”

“Father, you’re in ire,” Ma warned.

Dad screwed his eyes close in thought. When he was finished, he grunted with a late response to Ma, before pulling away from her gentle hand. He strode across the room to Quintus, then gestured for him to step forward. He did so reluctantly. We all knew that if we didn’t step forward, it would only make it worst.

With one swift motion, Dad cuffed him on his right ear, causing Quintus to stumble.

“That’s to start,” he said. “Stand, boy.”

Once Quintus regained his balance, he was immediately struck on his other ear.

“That one’s for blaspheming. You’ll get the remainder tomorrow. Never raise your hand against your brother ever again, do you understand?”

Quintus nodded. He continued to wilt underneath the glare until he answered with his voice.

“Yes, Father.”

“Pray to the gods that you keep your promise.”

Dad then crossed the room and knelt before me. He looked me in the eyes.

“Get some sleep. I’ll check on your arm in the morning,” he said quietly. “Come on, Mother, we need to get some sleep, too.”

Dad left the room. Ma reluctantly followed him.

Tertius perched himself on the edge of the bed near me and patted my head.

“How are you feeling?”

I just shook my head.

“You can kip with me. I’ll make sure that no other fool will do anything to you.”

I nodded. I took my blanket over to Tertius’s bed. Since he had inherited it from the broad shouldered Secondus, it was wide enough for both of us.

“I’ll make sure that nothing happens either,” Quartus said with a glare at Quintus.

“Don’t cause anymore trouble,” Primus warned.

Secondus grunted in ascent, and we all laid back down.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Tertius.

“Anytime,” he replied.

The night dragged long as the wound stung. It seemed like I had only just fallen asleep when Dad roused us early. Tertius had to borrow a shirt from Dad, because his was soaking to get out the blood from the night before. Once he was squared away, we were assembled to see Quintus get his back stripped, then striped.

Dad and Ma checked my arm, which seemed to be healing. We went through our day’s chores. Quintus did my share of chores. I picked out the blood stained straw from my bed. We were unusually quite, but things seemed to settle back down until the next morning, when I was stricken with a fever.