Page 14 of Jace

As she debated the question in her mind, he began setting up a small tent.

She decided to table her unhelpful thoughts and gather some firewood. There was no point wondering about something she could simply ask him once they got settled in.

6

Jace

Jace finished with the tent and stood back to view it with satisfaction.

It was perfectly set up, the posts were secured sturdily, and the cloth stretched taut. The rocky hill behind and the trees on either side would provide shelter from the wind.

All Invicta warriors learned to set up and break down a camp flawlessly. It was one of their first lessons after recruitment and Jace remembered his own lesson vividly.

As a farm boy, he was used to heavy chores and responsibility. But some of his fellow recruits were not.

Long after his tent was set up, the bedroll made out regulation style within, and fuel prepared for a fire, the other three boys were cackling and making fun of each other for mismanaging the tent poles.

By the time their leader arrived, Jace had set up all four camp sites by himself, while the others watched in stunned silence.

He was proud of his hard work and discipline, and his comrades were pleased with him as well.

But as weeks melted into months and he didn’t show up to play cards on day-off eves or participate in the group skits during the Hearth Day fest, the other recruits stopped inviting him. He was surprised to feel left out, even among those who would call themselves his brothers. Jace had never craved the company of others until it was dangled before him and then slowly taken away.

When the officer in charge of cadets approached him, he was afraid they were sending him home.

Instead, the man had clapped him on the shoulder and smiled.

“We’ve never had one like you, son,” he said, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile. “Your work is fantastic, never seen anything like it. But you do know you’re allowed to have fun, too.”

“Yes, sir,” Jace had said.

“Why not play cards with the boys now and then?” the officer asked. “Let your hair down, have a laugh.”

“I don’t laugh,” Jace admitted without thinking.

“Don’t or won’t?” the officer asked, the warm look gone from his face, his eyebrows practically touching his mane of gray hair.

“I understand the concept of humor,” Jace said. “But to me, most of the things people laugh at seem cruel.”

“You may be right on the money about that, son,” the officer allowed. “But play cards anyway. Let your guard down a bit and your sense of humor will have a chance to flourish.”

“Yes, sir,” Jace said, relieved that the officer had given him something concrete to do. He might not get the jokes, but he could show up for a game of cards.

He prepared by studying the game carefully in his free moments. He read biographies of a few of the greats and played practice games against AI versions of them on his bracelet.

When the next day-off eve came, he arrived precisely on time for the game.

To their credit, they all made noise to let him know they were very happy to see him. There were shouts and laughter, with everyone offering him a seat beside them and a mug of ale.

At last, the game began, and they took their attention off Jace and applied it to their cards, which made him feel much more comfortable.

But when he proceeded to put his studies to work and separate all the other cadets from their credits, they were suddenly less glad to see him.

For two day-off eves in a row he won handsomely.

The night before the third, the officer came to visit him once more.

“Seems the boys aren’t taking too well to your card playing skills,” the man said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I reckon this is why you didn’t want to play before.”

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