Read Online Reckoning by Kerry Wilkinson - Free Book Online Page A

fruit from the selection of food left for us but neither of us knows what to say to the other. He stares longingly out of the window and I wonder if he has left someone behind. I realise we are perhaps the only people who can understand each other, the mixed feelings of being chosen to serve our King, leaving behind everything and everyone we have ever known.
    Although we never hear anything official about what happens to our Offerings, there are always rumours. Someone’s cousin knows somebody who lives in a city who heard from a Kingsman and so on. Of course there is no way of knowing for sure but it is sometimes fun to speculate. I’ve heard about an Offering who is supposedly now captain of the King’s army and another who is in charge of research and technology. Some have apparently been sent abroad to marry, to help rebuild the alliances smashed down by years of war. I wonder if that is to be my fate and begin to feel self-conscious in my dress.
    We zigzag across the Realm but most of our pick-ups come from the cities where the crowds are beyond anything I have ever seen. Thousands have gathered to wave their Offerings goodbye as the carriage begins to fill up.
    The two Elite girls come from the same place. One is wearing a beautiful silver dress and seems friendly, introducing herself as Jela. She has long, straight blonde hair and is naturally pretty, her high cheekbones framing large brown eyes that almost stare through you. The other, Pietra, says hello, but goes to sit at the back of the carriage. Her brown hair is pinned up and she is wearing a blue velvet dress covered with glittering jewels. She sits watching me with her arms crossed, as if weighing me up, but she says little else. Jela goes to sit with her.
    Soon after, two boys – a Member and an Inter, dressed in a blue that matches his thinkwatch – step on together at another point. This is our year to provide a male Trog, who we collect from our final stop along with the last male Elite. These last two Offerings could not be more different. The Elite reminds me of Opie because of his build and hair colour – he is tall and handsome with a square, solid jaw and huge broad shoulders but his eyes lack the kindness that Opie’s have. Our Trog is thin and short, his thighs barely as wide as the Elite’s arms. His hair is brown and patchy and, despite us being the same age, he reminds me of Imp because of the dimples in his cheeks and the way he smiles.
    They step onto the train together and instantly separate. The Elite heads towards the food, as the Trog, rubbing the front of his yellow thinkwatch, looks around at us all, before shuffling into the corner and sitting by himself. I notice a few of the others glancing in his direction but nobody says anything. The four Elites have drifted towards each other and are standing near the food table, eating and smiling.
    We are all here now and ready to head to Windsor: four Elites, myself and another Member, an Inter and the Trog. Three girls and five boys. By the time we get to the castle and join with the Offerings from the other Realms, there will be thirty of us; fifteen boys and fifteen girls.
    As I am adding up the numbers in my head, I catch the Trog’s eye and he smiles nervously before looking away. I glance towards the Elites and the newest one, who looks a little like Opie, stares me up and down before indicating for me to come over with a flick of his head.
    For me there is no decision to make as I cross the carriage and sit next to the Trog instead. I feel the eyes of the others on me as I shake his hand and ask his name.
    â€˜Wray,’ he tells me with the same nervous smile as before, still playing with his watch front. He doesn’t want to meet my eyes but I don’t mind as I tell him my name.
    â€˜Is that like your hair?’ he asks, pointing to my silver streak.
    â€˜Exactly.’
    Wray asks where I come from but has, perhaps not surprisingly, never