Tentatively, he reaches out to pat her shoulder, but she flinches, so he speaks to her in low, soothing tones like he would a skittish horse, “Whoa there, easy now. Whatever it was, it's over now. It’s all in the past. Shhh...”
Slowly, he sees her relax a bit and finally take a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories,” Atres says cautiously, “Are you alright?”
When she finally nods, Atres lets out a bit of breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.
“One of these days,” Atres says gently, “You’ll have to tell me what all that is about.”
Gulping, Emlyn looks frightened at this. Atres chuckles, “When you’re ready, lass. When you’re ready, I’ll wait for now. If you take too long, though, I might have to kiss the story out of you.”
Blushing furiously, Emlyn ducks her head.
Flirting shamelessly, Atres grins at her, “Don’t worry, lass. If I steal a kiss or two, I’ll return them.”
Casting about for a change of subject, Atres offers, “I could ask Argonath if I can stay behind. I want to train with you. It’s not often that I run into someone who uses both swords.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Emlyn shrugs, “but I think I would like that.”
“May I see them?” Atres asks, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like them.”
“Certainly,” Emlyn nods, “I’m happy to show them off to someone who might appreciate them.”
“Where did you get them?” Atres asks.
“My family made them,” Emlyn grins, “Swordsmithing was one of the family businesses.”
Cocking his head, Atres listens to the music, “Come on, I know this one.”
Lifting Emlyn down gently, he takes her hand and tows her back to the dancing.
Argonath and Korek continue to observe Atres and Nia, which makes Korek chuckle.
Argonath looks over at Korek and raises an eyebrow. “Eh... I was thinking how many of the ladies in Harito are going to be disappointed. Maybe now the two of us can get some female company with the pretty boy off the market. Besides, you said you wanted us to keep an eye on her. Seems to me that you’ve got eyes that are almost up her skirts.”
Argonath laughs, “I suppose we do, at that. We’ll see if he lasts the whole three years.”
Grinning, Korek shrugs, “I think you might have that the wrong way around.”
Argonath gestures for Korek to continue.
Grin widening, Korek goes on, “I think the real question is if she’ll last. You know how he is. You’ve seen him work his magic too many times. If water were female, Atres could coax a river out of the desert.”
“Ahh,” Argonath nods, “I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t see her bedding him without wedding him first. She strikes me as being a stickler for that. All that talk about rebuilding her House, you may still be right. Girls here marry younger than that. She’s a little young by maybe a year, two at most, but not unacceptably so here. So maybe you have a point. It will save a lot of pointless arguments and explanations if I assign him the duty of keeping an eye on her.”
With the dancing done and Emlyn returned safely to Oja’s watchful care, Atres heads off to find his bedroll with the rest of the King’s Guard. Atres stretches out atop his roll, fingers laced behind his head, staring at the stars, smiling and humming to himself. It’s been a lovely evening, and he’s managed to coax her into opening up a bit to him. Argonath finds him in this position and grins, seeing him so smitten.
“Good,” Argonath chuckles, “You’re here. I was wondering where you’d be sleeping tonight. I half-expected you to be just outside her tent.”
“If I thought that Benger’s family would allow it,” Atres agrees, “I would be.”
“I’m surprised he’s not in it,” Korek grins.
“Well enough,” Argonath nods, “since I’m assigning you to keep an eye on her. You’ll stay here when Korek and I move on in the morning. I’ll expect a full report when you get back to Harito. I’ll expect you to keep tabs on her once she’s back in Harito, too. We took your advice and talked to Benger. Having heard her oaths and seen her do something that she couldn’t if she’d broken any of them, we’ve come around. Still, she’s powerful, and that power still seems to be growing, so that bears keeping eyes on it. Your eyes are likely to be the closest anyone will be able to get to her, so you get the job.”
“As you wish,” Atres grins, “Would you like me to report now?”
“Hmm,” Argonath frowns, “What is it that you think you need to report?”
“She’s from a military culture, not just her family, but her whole people. They start training in childhood. I asked her what her earliest memory was, and she told me a story about her grandfather chasing her, growling like a bear, while she was wearing a blind helm. She thinks she was maybe three at the time.”
“That is young,” Argonath nods, “but it explains a few things I’ve observed about her.”
Nodding, Atres continues, “They start off fighting in tournaments as children. She says she was eight when she was entered into the first one.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Who sends eight-year-old children into a tournament?” Korek asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone doing that. Anything else?”
“I learned three new ways to kill a man with a shoe,” Atres shrugs, “ways, I might add, that she swears her mother taught her. It seems that high-status girls like her were often kidnapped and forced into marriages. In response, the girls were taught by their mothers to kill their unwanted husbands with a whole host of ordinary objects that might be found in a bedroom.”
“Damn,” Korek says, slightly appalled, “Wedded, bedded, and deaded. I don’t know if I should be impressed or afraid.”
“That might be something useful,” Argonath muses, “if she’s willing to teach us.”
Laughing, Korek pats Atres on the shoulder, “I guess you’ll be staying on her good side or guarding your shoes.”
“Skills like that probably had other uses,” Argonath adds, “I’m guessing that there weren’t a lot of abusive husbands.”
Grinning, Benger elbows Emlyn, “I saw you two dancing. Did you have fun?”
Sighing happily, Emlyn nods, “I did.”
“He’s got some convincing to do,” Benger shrugs, “with the others when everyone gets back to Harito. I hope he’s up to the task.”
“What do you mean?” Emlyn asks.
“He’s got a well-earned reputation for being a skirt-chaser and, to be blunt, a skirt-lifter,” Benger frowns, “but I’ve been watching him with you. So far, I’m convinced that he’s sincere.”
“I checked his motives,” Emlyn shrugs, “They’re a lot more complex than just trying to get into my skirts.”
“Oh, do tell,” Benger grins, “I’d like to hear it.”
Sighing, Emlyn repeats what she told Atres earlier.
“Might be a good idea to re-check them now and again,” Benger shrugs, “Motives can change. It can be tricky. It is still possible to deceive us even when we’re checking for motives and lies.”
“Your warning is well taken,” Emlyn nods. Benger pats her on the shoulder and heads off to his tent. Emlyn sits for a time, staring into the fire, before crawling into the tent that Oja set up for her. Grabbing her grandfather’s blade, Emlyn takes a deep breath and resolutely wraps her hand around the hilt.
“Emlyn, my girl. What did you want to talk to me about?” Melfyn chuckles.
“There is a man,” Emlyn begins, “Strong enough, but not Cymry, and willing to wait until I am of age. I wish Mama were here, but she’s not.”
“I see...” Melfyn sighs, “Not exactly what I was expecting, but not entirely unexpected either. Tell me what you know of this man.”
“He’s got dragon blood. He’s part of the King’s Guard here in Tassatung. I’ve yet to test his skill in battle, but I’m told that he must be extremely skilled to be part of the King’s Guard. He wants to court me and is willing to take on rebuilding the House when the time comes.”
“Already had that discussion with him, then,” Melfyn chuckles.
“It seemed wisest to have it now,” Emlyn shrugs, “than waiting until the end to find out he was unwilling.”
“Can’t fault your logic on that,” Melfyn agrees, “If you like him well enough, why come to me for counsel?”
“Both he and Benger have told me of his... former activities,” Emlyn grimaces.
“Ah... you want to be sure he’s not just sniffing after a virgin’s skirts, then. Show me everything.”
Emlyn replays their encounter from the moment he told her that the two doubters could sod off until he walked her back to Oja.
“It seems like more than a passing fancy on his part,” Melfyn agrees, “If you can arrange for me to speak with him, I’ll take his measure for myself, I think. Seeing his size and strength come into the bloodline wouldn’t be a bad thing, either. Dragon blood.... hmmm.... I hadn’t considered that, but you’re probably right about it making him strong enough. I wonder how well he’ll take to Cymry ways. Get some sleep and don’t fret about it. We’ll sort it out soon enough.”
“Thank you,” Emlyn replies.
Emlyn releases the hilt and settles in for the night.
Atres wakes up as Argonath and Korek are packing up to move on to the next fair. Atres grins for a moment at what he’s about to ask of Argonath and Korek.
“Before you go, I have a favor to ask of you two.”
Atres repeats the warning Emlyn was given and his response.
“What is it exactly you want us to do?” Argonath asks.
“Let her know the truth of it.”
Korek scrubs his face. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. One look from you and she’s blushing to her toes.”
Nodding, Argonath agrees, “I doubt this is a subject she’d want to discuss with men, much less two men she barely knows.”
Atres frowns at Argonath, “It’s important that she hears it from someone besides me. I can’t explain it more than that.”
Korek shrugs, “Your gift again?”
Atres nods.
Sighing heavily, Argonath agrees, “We’ll try, but you might want to be handy for damage control. We’ll stop by the Bevis’ camp on the way out.”
After seeing his compatriots off, Atres grins to himself. Readying himself quickly, he heads for the Bevis family’s campsite to find Emlyn. Training sessions are generally best done in the cooler hours of the day, and he’s interested in her blades and her skills. The thought flits through his mind that these are things he can report on without breaking his promise to Emlyn.
Benger spots him hovering near the edges of the campsite and waves him in, “She is already up, but join us for breakfast. I think your friends went to talk to her.”
“Thanks,” Atres grins, “I haven’t eaten yet.”
Breakfast with the Bevis family is a simple affair, consisting of more elk, flatbread, and some greens that Oja picked.
Wandering off away from his brothers with Atres in tow, Benger looks at Atres curiously, “I saw your friends getting ready to leave earlier, but not you. What gives?”
“I’ve been assigned to keep an eye on the redoubtable Nia and her mighty steed, Snowflake,” Atres grins, “A task that I shall quite enjoy.”
Crossing his arms, Benger frowns at Atres, and Atres shrugs. “Don’t worry. I know she’s hiding from something, and I’m not about to put anything that might compromise her safety in any of my reports.”
Benger’s nostrils flare for a moment as he considers this and then nods, seeming to reach a decision.
“What concern is a paladin of Morrighu to the King’s Guard?” Benger asks.
“She’s already extremely powerful,” Atres shrugs, “and still growing in power at an almost unprecedented rate. They want to have a pair of eyes on her and, if I’m being honest, it's probably best for her that those be mine. Someone else might stumble upon something that gets included in a report, which ends up in our archives. Access to the archives isn’t always as restricted as I’d like, so I see the sense in her request to be kept out of the archives as much as possible.”
“Won’t you get into trouble if you get found out?” Benger asks.
“Quite a lot of trouble,” Atres agrees, “but I think I’d walk through fire to protect her. She hasn’t told me what she’s been through, but I triggered something last night. I made some comments about her not being afraid of the wolf that came to attack her while she was dressing that last elk. She said that the wolf didn’t scare her at all because she’d faced things that made the wolf seem like nothing. Then she got lost in herself, and when I tried to call her back out of it, she was flinching every time I moved. Gods above! What did that to her?”
“At a guess,” Benger shrugs, “whatever landed her in our Temple, nearly beyond the reach even of our Goddess.”
“Was it that bad?” Atres asks, and Benger nods.
“One of my friends was on duty when the Goddess showed up with her. All the mages were impressed because the Goddess had her in a stasis spell, just so that she could move her without killing her. She spent the first month with priests and clerics taking shifts around her bed to resurrect her when she died and to keep healing her to try to keep her from dying again.”
“What’s powerful enough to do that to someone?” Atres muses.
“I don’t know,” Benger shrugs, “and I hope never to find out.”
“No wonder the wolf seemed like nothing to her,” Atres says, shaking his head, “I’ll have to tread carefully around that until she’s ready to tell me about it.”
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