Lucien (The D'Jacques Dynasty #1)
Linda Mooney
Chapter 1
Practice
“Keep your head up, Luc! Keep your eyes on your opponent!”
“I am!”
The wooden sword grazed the top of his head as it swung above him. If it had been a real sword, it would have shorn away some of his hair.
Lucien retaliated with a side lunge, but Mattox was quicker. As his older brother slapped aside Luc’s weapon, the vibration jolted painfully up his arm. Immediately, Lucien lunged forward, aiming for Mattox’s legs. Again, the older man managed to deflect the practice sword, arcing it at the last split-second to strike Lucien on the hip.
“Point, Mattox. Score three to one. Game to Mattox,” Reasoner announced.
Both men backed away to stare at each other, one breathing more heavily than the other. Lucien narrowed his eyes at his adversary who outgunned him by four inches in height and twenty more pounds in muscle.
“Sloppy work, Luc. Your lack of concentration will get you killed one day,” his brother remarked with a noticeably derisive tone.
Lucien gritted his teeth. These past couple of years, ever since he’d joined the ranks of the guards, Mattox rarely ever praised him for anything. If the man spoke to him, it was almost always some form of criticism, and he was getting tired of it.
“It’s not my fault I don’t have your superiority,” he snapped back.
Mattox’s red eyes went slightly lighter in color. “You bear the same genes as I do. Quit using that paltry excuse for your failings.”
“I may have the same genes, but anyone can see the ones that give you and Misty your edge are missing in me. And you can’t deny that fact!”
His side ached where Mattox’s sword had struck him. By tomorrow he’d be covered in bruises where he’d taken hit after hit during their practice. But for now he refused to let his sibling know of his discomfort.
“Your abilities are there, little brother,” Mattox rebuked him. “They’re waiting to come out, but you won’t let them. I’m just trying to help you become the warrior you were born to be.”
“By constantly deriding me?” Lucien shot back.
“Hold it! Hold it. No one’s deriding anyone,” a beloved voice intervened.
Both men turned to see their mother striding toward them. He noticed she wasn’t carrying a weapon other than the ballock she always wore the way other women wore jewelry. Because she had no bow or sword, that meant she hadn’t been practicing, which was the main reason why the soldiers left the safety of the barricaded walls. Lucien wondered why she was here.
When she reached the couple, they bowed their heads for her kiss to their cheeks. Straightening, Lucien watched as she eyed him from top to bottom, then turned to Mattox.
“Your father is needing you in the main hall.”
“What for?”
Atty raised an eyebrow, and Lucien secretly smiled. It wasn’t often that their mother gave them that look. It was as close to a scolding as they’d get.
“Take it up with your father,” she responded. “Now go!”
Handing his practice sword to the next soldier waiting his turn, Mattox took off at a trot. Atty remained with Lucien and watched her eldest hurry away.
Lucien tossed his mock weapon to another nearby soldier. “How about me? Should I also go?”
In reply, she waved for him to follow, and together they headed back toward the compound.
“I wanted to speak to you alone,” she admitted. “That’s why I sent Mattox ahead.” She gave him another glance. Her worry reflected in her blue-gray eyes. “I’ve been hearing gossip that bothers me, so I decided to come straight to the source.”
He frowned. “What kind of gossip? I haven’t told anyone about anything. You know me better than that. I would never betray your or Dad’s trust.”
She gave a little shake of her head. The setting sun glinted off her deep blue hair, reminding him once again how her special abilities were evident by her outward appearance. Just like they were with Matt and Misty.
“This has nothing to do with betraying our trust. Your father and I believe in you explicitly. No, when I said you were the source, I didn’t mean you were the instigator. I meant you were the topic.” She slipped an arm around his, and they matched strides. “Lucien, I hear you’ve been demeaning yourself for some time now.”
He kept silent as he tried to find the words to respond with, when Atty came to a sudden stop and tugged on his arm to make him face her. “I know you’re concerned about your lack of skills on the battlefield. You think it’s because you don’t show any outward mark that proves your Mutah heritage. But you are half Mutah, the same as your brother and sister. You also know there are full-blooded Mutah who don’t show any outward mark. Your grandmother, my mother, didn’t have one. And Tory’s isn’t visible for all to see, either.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “Yours is inside you. Believe me. I would never lie to you.”
He clasped her hand and held it there. He was constantly amazed by how small and fragile his mother’s hands appeared to be, when in actuality they were the exact opposite. No man or woman, or soldier, Normal or Mutah, could match Atrilan D’Jacques’ skill when it came to the bow or knife.
“Mom, I know. You’ve told me all this before.”
“But you don’t listen,” she curtly responded with a tiny smile. “When you least expect it, your specialness will show forth. You must be patient and have faith.” She patted his chest. “You already have your father’s tenacity and bravery. My half will eventually shine through.”
“I’ll be twenty-one in three months. I have practiced daily, sometimes twice a day, with the sword, the bow, and the knife ever since I was old enough to hold them, but I am no better than the average soldier. I certainly can’t compete against Matt or Misty.”
Atty glanced over her shoulder for a moment, then turned back to him. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your weapon of expertise isn’t one of those?”
“You and Dad have already suggested that, remember? I’ve also tried the crossbow and the pike. Hell, I’ve even worked with the mace. There’s not much else I can choose from.”
Atty sighed, and they resumed their walk through the compound gates. “Please try to be a bit more patient. Trust in yourself, Lucien. It’ll eventually come. I promise you.”
If only I was as certain as you are, Mom. As much as her reassurances managed to soothe his ruffled feathers, he couldn’t help the feelings of inadequacy that burned through him whenever he witnessed his brother’s skill with the sword, or his sister’s precision with knives. And yet, he believed her. His mother had that uncanny knack of knowing things that somehow managed to come true. I just gotta be patient and trust it’ll reveal itself, but it’s damn hard.
Still frowning, he opened the side door leading into the main hall and ushered her in ahead of him.
Chapter Two
Plea