Legacies by L. E. Modesitt Jr. Page A

offered a hand to Veryl to help her down on the other side.
    â€œYou can put the team in the shed there. Got water and some grain.”
    As the two men talked, Alucius offered a hand to his mother, who took it with grace, although she did not need it to descend from the wagon.
    Lucenda looked at her son. “You be careful with that clean shirt, Alucius.”
    â€œNot that careful,” Royalt added with a laugh, interrupting his conversation with Kustyl. “Have a good time, boy.”
    Alucius looked toward the long porch, and then to the three boys on the far corner who were playing shoes.
    â€œGo on,” urged his grandfather. “The shirt be sanded.”
    Alucius grinned and began to run toward the three, although he only recognized Vardial. He heard—and ignored—the words behind him.
    â€œFather…”
    â€œHe is a boy, daughter. Let him be one before he has to be a man.”
    Alucius slowed as he reached the end of the long porch.
    â€œHere’s Alucius,” called Vardial, perhaps a span shorter than Alucius, but far broader. “That makes it even. Alucius and me against Jaff and Kyrtus.”
    â€œFine,” called the tallest youth, “Kyrtus and me, we’ll make it quick.”
    Kyrtus’s eyes lingered on Alucius, focused on the newcomer’s dark gray hair, for just a moment. “That we will.”
    â€œNo, you won’t,” Vardial predicted.
    Alucius and Jaff took the pit closest to the porch, a sandy circle with an iron rod pounded deep into the ground and projecting about a third of a yard above the sand.
    â€œOdd or even?” Putting one hand behind his back, Jaff looked at Alucius.
    â€œOdd—on two. One…two.” Alucius thrust forward two fingers.
    â€œEven, it is.” Jaff had offered two fingers. “You start.”
    Alucius picked up the pair of black-painted horseshoes, and shifted one to his left hand. Standing to the right side of the iron rod, he pitched it toward the opposite pit, where it landed two spans short of the rod and skidded perhaps a shoe’s width past.
    â€œNot bad for starters,” Jaff said, taking his place on the left side, and tossing a green shoe toward the other pit. His shoe skidded past the rod, touching it enough for a brief clang .
    â€œJaff’s within a shoe,” Vardial called back to Alucius.
    Alucius tossed his second shoe. While it struck a glancing blow to the green shoe, it didn’t knock it away from the rod. Jaff’s second shoe struck the ground just short of the pit and bounced sideways.
    â€œToo short…wanted to slide it in,” explained Jaff.
    Kyrtus began from the other end, but his shoe skidded well past the rod, as did Vardial’s first throw. On the second pitch, Kyrtus got his shoe close to the rod, but Vardial knocked both away.
    Jaff started the second round, with a pitch that ringed the rod, and then spun off, landing nearly half a yard away. Alucius slid his first shoe almost to the rod, deep enough into the loose sand that Jaff’s second shoe bounced off. Alucius tried to slide his second shoe to the rod on the second side—and did, but not quite close enough.
    Over the next glass and a half, the four played five games, and, as Jaff had predicted, the two older boys won, but not easily, with all games being decided by less than four points, and with Alucius and Vardial winning two, if each of those by only two points.
    â€œWind it up, young fellows!” called Kustyl. “Ribs and chicken’ll be ready in a bit. Wash up and get yourself some punch.”
    â€œGood game,” offered Jaff.
    â€œIt was,” Alucius replied. “You and Kyrtus are good. Thank you.”
    â€œâ€¦he always that polite?” murmured Kyrtus to Vardial.
    â€œâ€¦his grandsire’s strict…”
    As Alucius walked up the steps to the porch, he glanced toward the other end where a girl in pale blue trousers and a