AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hello. I’m Imdiko Doljen. Nice to meet you.” His smile was for both Tumsa as well as the sports star. Tons of points for that.
“Are we all right to talk to you, or are future clanmates going to give us hell?” Somehow, Tumsa’s fishing for information managed to be unobtrusive and charming.
“I’m unattached for now. What about you? Any Imdikos to be on my guard against?”
“None. Now that we’ve cleared that up, how old are you?” Halmiko’s approach wasn’t as smooth as Tumsa’s, but he could get away with bluntness. After all, he was the star defender of the Hetlan Conquerors, on the road to another championship, and two-time most valuable player.
“I’m eighteen as of last week.” Doljen grinned.
Legal, in other words…for drinking, clubbing, and other activities. Not clanning, however. He’d need his parent clan’s permission.
“Eighteen and not yet promised? Why is that?”
“My parents insist I have to finish school before I can consider joining a clan.” Doljen rolled his eyes to show his opinion of the matter. “I’ll turn twenty-five before that happens, so they can control me only to a point.”
“Twenty-five before you’re done with school. What impressive career are you working so hard toward?” Tumsa asked.
“Medical doctor, specializing in surgery. Or maybe infectious diseases. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Impressive.” Halmiko considered telling the kid the team was looking for a medic to assist their doctor, but thought better of it. Maybe if Doljen’s personality was as good as his looks, he’d mention it later.
Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar hoarse voice shouted over the general hubbub. “Hey, men! Eyes up here.”
They turned to the front of the room, where the team’s coach, Nobek Rifar, stood on a table waving his arms. One arm was intact, and the other a stump that ended just below the elbow, courtesy of severe poisoning from handling too many barbed kurble balls. He was a scarred brute and living legend.Halmiko still couldn’t believe his luck that he played for the man.
Rifar’s smile displayed gaps where teeth had once resided. “You know I think every last bastard on this team is a lazy asshole—” raucous laughter greeted the insult “—but when you boys decide to play, you fuckingplay!”
Cheers blasted the room. Halmiko’s ears popped, but he was yelling along with the rest.
“Nobody can touch us, especially when we do what we did today. We weren’t fancy. We weren’t pretty. We went in hard and dirty and ready to kick ass. Every man did his job, which is why we’re on our way to the finals and the championship.”
More cheers, during which Rifar’s gaze swept the room. It paused a few feet from Halmiko, then moved on to light on Halmiko himself.
Realizing what was about to happen, he leaned close to Doljen, slipping his arm around the Imdiko’s shoulders to pull him in. “I’m not done talking to you. Don’t take off.”
Those big, innocent eyes blinked at him. “Okay.”
“I’ll keep him close,” Tumsa winked to Halmiko.
Rifar’s voice rose loud again, interrupting the rushed conversation. “…the two tough bastards who’ve led us to yet another championship game. Come on up and let everyone kiss your asses, Halmiko and Zakla!”
With a modest eyeroll for Doljen’s benefit, Halmiko headed to the front. After a couple of steps, Nobek Zakla, the team’s hurler, was at his side. Out of habit now unnecessary, Halmiko darted a quick glance at the drink in Zakla’s hand. As expected, it was a nonalcoholic vitamin-protein mix. The swarm of waiters had been instructed before the party it was all Zakla would drink.
His friend and teammate leaned close as they stalked through the cheering crowd to Rifar. “Who’s the muscled cutie you and my baby brother are chatting up?”
“A medical student with parents who say school before clanmates. I barely got two seconds to talk to him, but I think there’s serious potential. Get me off the hook here?”
Zakla grinned. He was an older, rougher version of Tumsa in the looks department, with a hardness missing in his younger sibling. “If you promise to toss Dr. Darling in my direction if he isn’t up to your standards.”
“Can I warn him you’re only into one-night stands?”
“Of course. I don’t want a clinger if I can avoid it, unlike you clan-happy types. Say thanks to your teammates and return to schmoozing that gorgeous kid.”
“I appreciate it.”
Zakla was as good as his word. Halmiko made the expected comments of how proud he was of the team, how he was nothing without them all doing their part. After less than a minute, Zakla shoved him aside and got the crowd shouting and roaring with exhortations of how they’d tear their rivals apart in the championship game. His exuberant act allowed Halmiko to slip away.
It was a performance the teammates had done hundreds of times before, switching roles depending on which of them had a “hot overnight prospect,” as Zakla liked to put it. Theirs was a productive partnership on and off the field.
