Becca Fox - Asta and the Barbarians

Bryn hastily shoved his pain-relieving supplies into his satchel. “Sorry about the mess. It’s the only way I can work.”

“Does your father allow you to leave the academy to buy your herbs?”

He sighed mournfully. “If only. I accidently discovered Bode’s illegal addiction. I vowed not to tell the authorities if he agreed to purchase whatever herbs I wanted. I make a list every week and give it to him before he goes to the marketplace for our food.”

“He did have a peculiar scent,” I recalled. “What do you do with the herbs?”

Bryn shrugged. “Experiments. I combine them with certain liquid medicines and use the mixture on my peers when they’re injured. With their consent and only after they promise to keep my secret, of course. I document my observations and replicate the successes in the hopes that they’ll impress the medical school recruiters.”

“Well, Dr. Bryn, whatever you used on my back most certainly works. I don’t feel any pain.”

He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“What does it mean? Your name.”

The smile slowly faded. “My full name, Brynjar, means warrior in armor.”

I blinked. “Oh…”

He waved a hand at me. “Yes, I know. It’s a ridiculous name.”

“Not at all. It’ll be very fitting once you’ve graduated.”

“My mother called me Behnam,” Bryn said, his expression soft and nostalgic. “It means man of honor, but everyone who joins Dotharr’s Academy is given a new name. Surely someone has told you that.”

I’d like to see them try to take my name from me. It’s all that remains of my homeland now . I set aside my fiery indignation. “Your father is the director and your best friend is a devout believer in Dotharr, and yet you want to go to medical school. It’s curious.”

Bryn sat beside me on the bed. “Not really. Women aren’t allowed into Ishem’s School of Science. As advanced as our educational system is, we still have a long way to go before men and women are allowed equal opportunities. My mother was an herbalist, the closest thing she could be to a doctor. She created her own remedies and sold them at her herb store.” He looked down at his hands. “She was murdered roughly a month ago by a desperate man who couldn’t pay for his medicine.”

I leaned back in surprise. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

Bryn shrugged and averted his gaze. “Yes, well, it made my father’s dreams come true. Viggo and I hunted down my mother’s killer and gained copper eyes as a result. My father had always hoped I would be chosen by Dotharr. He believed me being a warrior would bring him great honor. With my mother gone, there was no one to argue that being a doctor was just as honorable as being a soldier. He won’t listen to me. My eyes have changed, so my future has been decided. And that is the end of the discussion.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I murmured, but what I thought was, At least your father is still alive .

Bryn placed a hand over his growling stomach and gave me a sheepish smile. “On that cheerful note, what do you say we go to the Feasting Hall?”

I was given a tray with several strips of chicken breast, a pile of mashed potatoes, and a mound of broccoli.

Bryn was ecstatic. “Broccoli. Yes!”

“What is it usually?” I asked in horror. I’d never seen a man so pleased to see a vegetable before. Could there be something worse than broccoli served on a regular basis?

He made a sour face. “Cauliflower. Or boiled spinach.”

I gagged. “I’m afraid to ask what they serve for lunch.”

“Fish and rice,” Bryn replied, leading me between rows of tables. “Although the vegetables in the rice vary.”

I peeked into my mug. “Is it always water to drink?”

“We’re allowed milk with our bread in the morning.”

“I guess I should be thankful for that.” I caught sight of my guards eating at a nearby table. One scowled at me; the other curled his lip.

“Loyal companions you have there,” Bryn said with raised eyebrows and a teasing smile.

“They’re not here by choice, but they fear General Halvar too much to kill me quietly and return to their families.” I wasn’t blind to the looks we were receiving. Every member of the tables we passed followed us with their eyes, smirking, frowning, or scowling. I heard them murmuring under their breath.

“Whore.”

“Imposter.”

“Weakling.”

There wasn’t a single man among these warriors-in-training who would dare to stoop so low as to fantasize about me. Under different circumstances, I might have been insulted. Now, I was thankful. Hopefully it means they’ll stay away from me .

Viggo sat at a table toward the back of the hall with three others. They talked and laughed, so far the most boisterous group I’d seen. They fell silent as Bryn and I approached. I didn’t hide behind Bryn. They had seen me at my weakest at the whipping post. I wouldn’t be weak before them again. I forced myself to meet their disgusted and spiteful gazes.

“Good evening, men,” Bryn said cheerfully. “Can we join you?”

“You’re always welcome among us,” a bear of a man said with barely a glance in my direction. “The thing that follows you isn’t.”

“I can sit elsewhere,” I said.

Bryn ignored me and smiled at the speaker. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Asger. We’ll find somewhere else to eat.” He elbowed me and nodded toward an empty table farther down the aisle.

“Oh, sit down, Bryn!” Viggo said in exasperation. “You aren’t going into isolation for a girl.”

Asger and the other two were about to object, but one glare from Viggo made them clamp their mouths shut.

Viggo turned his glare on me before saying, “Sit.”

“I don’t need your charity. I don’t fear isolation.” I marched to the empty table, dropped my tray with a clatter, and sat. Scowling down at my food, I began forking mashed potatoes into my mouth. Footsteps approached, and I saw him sit beside me out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t need to protect me, Bryn. I’m not your charge. You can sit with your friends.”

“He knows,” Viggo said, making me jump in surprise. “He does what he does because he wants to. The only reason it isn’t him sitting here right now is because I asked for a moment alone with you.”

I looked over Viggo’s shoulder to see Bryn watching us anxiously from afar.

Viggo leaned in, forcing me to lean back. “Bryn is a good man. He upset his father, and is facing scorn from his own friends for you : a stranger whose very presence in this academy is an affront to our religious beliefs and our way of life. It’s because of him that I’m tolerating you at all. So I suggest you refrain from ever speaking to him in anger or disrespect, or you’ll have me to reckon with.”

I wasn’t afraid of him. His love and respect for his friend were evident, but I was done cowering before men. I rose from my seat. “You’re right about your friend, but you’re wrong about me. Do you think I chose to come here? I never asked your Heavenly Master to change the color of my eyes.” Viggo jumped to his feet and opened his mouth to defend himself, but I continued before he could get a word out. “Because Dotharr needed some form of entertainment, I was dragged onto a ship, held against my will, beaten senseless by your beast of a general, and left at this damned academy to become a killer.” I rose to my full height to poke him in the chest. “If you think for one moment that I want to be here, you’re a fool.”

He opened his mouth a second time, but paused. We both glared at our audience until they returned to their food. I waved impatiently at my guards, who had risen from their table and begun to draw their weapons.