The Birth Of The Beta

15. OUT OF SORTS

Cornelius rolled his eyes when he was asked to ‘inhale’ one more time. His skin was getting cold from sitting in a semi-state of nudity for so long.

“I’ve already told you, doctor, I can breathe perfectly well, it’s the pain in my stomach I need you to look at,” Cornelius grumbled, with frustration.

Sensing the annoyance of his patient, the doctor prodded his stomach, noticing a lumpy blockage of some kind. He smiled, confidently assured of his diagnosis.

“I’m going to insist that you eat some more prunes each morning, it will improve your digestion, and rid you of any discomfort,” he said cheerfully.

“You figured that out from watching me breathe and poking me twice? If you’d asked me, I’d have told you that my digestion system is as regular as a sun dial. I’m not paying you for this attempt at an examination, when all you have done is talk s**t, both literally and figuratively, for an hour. Good day doctor!” Cornelius huffed, and replaced his tunic.

Left alone in his office, he sat at his desk, pouring water into his goblet, taking slow and steady sips. Sweat dripped down his temples from the simple, monotonous movement of stumbling from his lounger to his office chair. He had noticed the pain a few weeks ago, when he felt a mild cramp in his stomach while he watched the gladiators train. The cramp had since magnified into a sharp stabbing sensation over the past two weeks, the pain was so acute sometimes he could barely stand, and had to shuffle before he could disguise his discomfort with his usual strides. If he said he wasn’t tempted to slump back into bed, that would make him a liar. The only event on his agenda that was keeping him seated was his morning training update with Aoife. Her loyalty and dedication could calm the most atrocious agonies.

Aoife stretched in the morning, enjoying the comforting prickle on her skin as she brushed her arms over Pepin’s relaxed body.

“Good morning!” Pepin yawned, then turned and nibbled on the lobe of her ear.

“Hello,” Aoife replied, “I have to go, I have a meeting with Cornelius,” She explained, and laughed at his disappointed whine.

Joy surged through her steps as she made her way to Cornelius’ office. During her time at Heaton House she had accomplished many things she was proud of: being the first female gladiator, being a champion, becoming the first trainer ever who was also a werewolf and even challenging the ever growing social attitude that wolves were predetermined to become slaves. Although she was proud of all of her accomplishments, none of these had made her glow like she did this morning. She was still smiling as she entered the tablium, but the happiness was short-lived when he looked at Cornelius’ grey pallor, his mouth was slightly hung open, as if clenching his jaw was too much of a strain. She was disturbed by his sickly countenance.

“Cornelius, can I do anything for you? You look really unwell,” Aoife asked, as she rushed to his side of the desk and clasped his hand in her own.

“Yes, my dear, tell me all I need to know about the gladiators, and then after that tell me all about your new friend,” Cornelius grinned, with a smug expression.

Aoife sat on the edge of the table, as she usually did, when giving updates, but this was the first time she had done so with a beaming smile.

“We need to buy more weight items, the gladiators need to build more muscle,” Aoife advised, and Cornelius wrote down her suggestion.

“Next week a galley of wolves who have had their lands taken will be sent to the slave market. I want you to go to the dock and follow our procedure. I won’t be able to go, so I will leave it in your hands with all the correct documentation. You can take Pepin with you. Lord knows he’s besotted, he already looks determined to jump in front of deadly arrows for you,” Cornelius teased her, but grinned as her smile grew even wider.

“As you say, Cornelius,” She replied.

“Are you going to tell me anything else?” Cornelius asked, noticing the faint shadow shape on her neck that seemed to be forming into some kind of picture.

“He’s my mate, we share a soul. Last night we accepted and marked each other, that’s the image you can see on my neck, it is a warning to all others that we belong only to each other,” Aoife explained.

Cornelius didn’t understand it at all, but it didn’t matter, he only had one question.

“Are you happy, Aoife?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m very happy,” she answered quickly, with absolute certainty.

Their tender moment was interrupted by the obnoxious berating of Antonia’s shrill voice, who had entered the office without knocking, carrying a fresh jug of water in her hand, that she presented with an expectant smile on her face.

“I brought you some fresh water, father in law,” she announced, placing it on the table.

“Thank-you,” Cornelius replied courteously, although he was perplexed by this new path in her personality.

Antonia’s sunny expression rapidly transformed into a thunder storm of anger when she took note of Aoife’s position on the table.

“How dare you sit on your master’s desk? So informal! Your head is higher than his…you are taking advantage of his frailties,” Antonia spat venomously at Aoife.

Before Aoife had the time to respond, Cornelius raised her voice in her defence.

“Aoife always sits there for our meetings, she has done so since she was twelve years old. Let me assure you I am not yet frail enough to need you as my mouthpiece, and if I was ever in need of one, you would be the last person I would choose…” His tirade was soon interrupted by his splattering cough. Aoife poured him some fresh water, while Antonia stormed out like a petulant child. Rubbing his back until his convulsions had subsided, she could no longer obstruct her opinion from escaping into the open.

“You have been poorly since your son and his wife-to-be have returned home, the stress they bring is making you ill!” Aoife accused, clenching her teeth in anger.

“It’s not their fault, I’m just out of sorts at the minute, but seeing you happy eases all my ailments,” Cornelius reassured her. Aoife was mollified, but not convinced about his sufferings, so she headed out to train the gladiators. Cornelius’ resolve dripped away like the last of autumn’s rains. He finally surrendered, and returned to his bed. He tossed and turned in his unconsciousness, sleep failing to stun the increasing severity of his pain.

Meanwhile, Antonia was sitting on the balcony watching as Aoife trained the rest of the animals. Clutching and twisting the material of her dress, she tried to calm her tempestuous reaction to what Cornelius had just said to her. She was a governor’s daughter. She had never carried water in for anyone before, but to try to win over her father-in-law she had lowered herself. In return, she had been treated at best as an interruption, and at worse, like a loud-mouthed i***t. She was neither of those things. Like a predator, her eyes were fixed on Aoife, she was adored like a daughter. In her father’s house, the most you could like a wolf was on the same level as a pet. Laughing, she couldn’t help but think that if Aoife was her pet she would command the guards to drown her. This one was dangerous. Even Antonia could see from the way she covered the sands, and unbalanced the larger wolves that she was lethal, but Antonia was smart enough to linger in the waiting game. Antonia could be dangerous too. Dropping the fabric of her dress, she conceded that she had made her first mistake by leaving the office when Cornelius was struggling. This had painted her as uncaring and selfish, but she needed to maintain their aura of kindness and concern. She had to hide her true feelings better in the future, she admonished herself. She would prevail.