Turning back to Emlyn, Atres says, “Veni is here. He’s the only other person I know who uses blind helms. Let me go get him.”
Atres jogs off across the large practice area as Emlyn sits on the bench and heals herself again.
Benger looks on, concerned. “Still?”
“That whack to the collarbone,” Emlyn grins, “stung a bit. If that’d been a real fight, with steel weapons, I’d have had a serious, if not fatal, wound. That’s exactly why I’d like to see him alter his style just a bit.”
Nodding, Benger files this away. As Emlyn and Benger sit chatting about weapon choices for various situations, Atres returns with Veni in tow.
“Nia, this is Veni, formerly of Clan Baytas, now of the King’s Guard. Veni, this is Nia ferch Hayden ap Rhys, Paladin of Morrighu.”
Smiling, Veni bows to her, “Atres tells me that you also use blind helms. Would you care for a match?”
Veni notices that Atres instantly goes on guard and smiles to himself.
“I don’t have my gambeson here,” Emlyn explains, “and I’m still on restrictions to just use wooden weapons.”
She waves ruefully at the wooden weapons on the bench next to her.
“That won’t do at all,” Veni grins, “It’s so seldom I find anyone else competent with one. I’ll switch to wooden weapons, and we’ll find you a gambeson to borrow. I happen to have an extra blind helm. I’ll go get it, shall I?”
When Emlyn nods in agreement, Veni’s grin widens.
“Come on, Atres,” Veni says, “Let’s go find the lady a gambeson.”
“I’ll just go find some weapons that I’m more confident with,” Emlyn says.
Veni gives her an odd look, but Atres and Veni wander off.
“She seemed confident enough with those,” Veni says to Atres.
“I made the mistake of telling her that we often fight in tight places like stairwells,” Atres says, “and she swears that combination is more effective than my rapier and dagger.”
Veni gives him a look, but Atres shrugs, “She may be young, but she’s a walking library about anything and everything military.”
“Tell me, Atres,” Veni grins, “when did you become so protective of a paladin that looks barely old enough to be out of pig tails?”
Sighing heavily, Atres grimaces, “About a tenday ago.”
“Oh, my,” Veni laughs, “Our resident skirt chaser has finally met his match. If you’re that protective, you’ve already started to bond. I know some ladies who are going to be horribly disappointed, but don’t worry. I happily offer myself as a replacement and will gladly console them for you.”
“The trick is going to be remaining bonded,” Atres grimaces again, “She’s going up against something that’s pretending to be a dragon, and it’s... bad. I’ve managed so far to get it out of lethal bad, but it’s managed to move back to that a couple of times. This one is going to be... tricky.”
“Gods! I’m sorry. That’s... terrible news,” Veni shrugs, “I know that after that nasty business in Iridon, no one was sure if you’d ever be able to... and now this... I don’t know how much help my talent is, but I will do whatever I can to help you.”
Atres nods, “Thanks.”
Carefully putting a hand on Atres’s shoulder, Veni projects calm, “Steady and calm. Clear heads figure things out faster. Now, let’s get my spare helm and a gambeson for your lady love. I’m interested to see what she can do. Tell me how you met her.”
Benger and Emlyn return to the room with all the wooden weapons. Emlyn goes sifting through the swords until she finds a pair that approximates her blades and returns to the bench. Composing herself, Emlyn begins to meditate. Atres and Veni finally find a gambeson that they think is small enough to fit and return to the training ground to find Emlyn sitting cross-legged on the bench, meditating.
Chuckling, Atres leans in and whispers, “Fy lleidr bach, see if this fits you. It might be a bit big.”
Atres helps her into the gambeson, and it’s a bit tight through the chest, while also being a bit long in the sleeves; however, it fits well enough for a simple sparring match. She pulls on the padded hood, which is a bit large, and then buckles the helm into place.
Holding out her arm confidently to Atres, Emlyn asks, “Can you fold that back, please?”
Grinning, Atres does and smirks a bit when she turns and offers up her other arm.
Moving confidently, Emlyn walks to the ring marked on the floor and takes her place. Atres notes that she is rolling her shoulders, swords spinning, loosening up for the upcoming bout.
Benger looks at Veni, “Atres and I will referee. When her strength goes, it’s like someone kicked the bottom out of the bucket. It all goes at once.”
Veni nods, “Got it,” and walks to the ring before pulling on his hood and helm.
Atres and Benger follow closely and move so that they can see both participants. Atres smiles to see the wooden swords start to spin in her hands and then reverse direction. Seeing both of them in blind helms, some of the others stop what they’re doing and start wandering over to watch. Emlyn offers a formal salute to Veni, who attempts to return it, but does so a bit off-center.
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Atres calls out, “Begin”.
Prowling widdershins, Emlyn seeks her opening and sensing that Veni is somewhat distracted by the spectators, lunges in with both swords, making a whistling arc. Veni manages to block one with his shield, but the other clangs against his helm.
“Point to Nia,” Benger calls.
Veni tries an attack, but Emlyn dodges deftly out of the way. Veni tries to bash her with his shield, but Emlyn continues to move while her swords probe his defenses.
Finally, one pokes him in the shoulder, and Atres calls out, “Second point to Nia.”
Emlyn feints to the left, then spins to the right, both swords slicing through the air. Veni manages to get his shield up to block, but the force of it sends him stumbling backward. Sensing her advantage, Emlyn presses her attack with a flurry of blows.
Atres sees one of them land and calls out, “Third point to Nia.”
This is followed quickly by Benger calling out, “Fourth point to Nia,” as another strike from her flurry lands.
Veni, trying to seize the offensive, pushes at her with his shield, but she dodges away again. Emlyn returns to prowling around Veni, first one way and then reversing direction, which confuses him, and she manages to land a blow on his side.
When her blow lands, Benger calls out, “Fifth point and match to Nia.”
Both combatants halt, and Emlyn again salutes Veni before dropping her wooden swords and pulling off the blind helm and hood. Gulping air, she quickly heals herself by mumbling a prayer. Benger sees the blue nimbus roll across her and moves to stand behind her, just in case.
Veni whips his helm off and grins at her, “Well done! I don’t think I’ve met anyone who can fight in one better. Who taught you?”
“Thank you,” Emlyn replies, bowing formally, “My grandfather and older sister taught me.”
“Would you care to go again?” Veni asks, but Emlyn shakes her head, “Perhaps in a bit. I need to rest for a while.”
Atres wraps an arm around her shoulders and half-carries, half-walks her to the bench and sits her on it.
“Oh, lass,” Atres says, looking carefully at her face, “Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine in a bit,” Emlyn nods, “I really should get Lokrag to make me one that fits properly. That damnable hood moved on me, and I was having trouble breathing.”
Atres chuckles, and Emlyn gives him a mock glare.
“I’m not as big as all of you big brutes,” Emlyn grouses, waving her hand at the three men, “Nothing fits properly unless I have it made.” Sighing, she relents, “I’ve already made the Temple smiths work over the break. I don’t want to drop a lot more on them right now, but I’m developing a growing backlog of items that I need to have made.”
“Perhaps you should see one of the smiths in the city?” Veni suggests, “I can recommend a couple that are competent.”
“What I’ve found, here in Harito,” Emlyn shrugs, “is that it’s not the smiths as much as it is the steel. My family worked in metals, and the steel here is, quite frankly, horrible. We wouldn’t have used it to shoe the horses. I’ve been working with the Temple smiths to try to fix that, but we’re not having much luck. We have had some improvements, just not as much as I’m looking for.”
Reaching into her boot, Emlyn extracts one of her daggers and hands it to Veni. “That’s from one of our more recent attempts.”
Veni tests it and nods, “That’s nice. Well balanced, too.”
He hands it back, and Emlyn puts it back into her boot.
“Do you always go around armed?” Veni asks.
Emlyn laughs, nodding “To the teeth. I have since I was about ten years old. It was necessary where I come from.”
“It’s not necessary here,” Veni frowns.
“Perhaps not,” Emlyn shrugs, “but it’s become such a habit that I’m uncomfortable without them.”
Thoughtful, Veni nods.
“If you’re not up for another bout, perhaps all of you would like to join me for some lunch,” Veni offers graciously.
“I don’t want to be late for our meeting with Argonath,” Atres says, “These two need to renegotiate their specialists’ contracts.”
“Oh,” Veni starts to laugh, “You’re the one… Payment due in gold in the amount of ten stone, I think it was… “
“Damn that man,” Emlyn grumbles, “I should have punched him harder when I had the chance. I knew Prince Armeniel was going to find out that Argonath put that in the contract. Now I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Oh, do tell,” Veni says, so Emlyn re-tells the story of the hunting trip, Argonath’s failed attempts to recruit her, and her quip about being worth her weight in gold and then some.
“We were negotiating for something else, almost a tenday later, and that weasel asked me how much I weigh, didn’t tell me what it was for, and without thinking I said right at ten stone in all my kit, so that’s what he put in the contract as my rate of pay.”
Emlyn waves a hand at Atres and Benger, “These two think it’s funny, but they don’t have to attend balls and dance with the prince.”
Argonath, highly amused, steps from behind Atres and clears his throat, “This weasel would like to have a word with you three. Oh … For the record, the prince said you were sadly undervalued and suggested that we reach a longer-term agreement.”
Veni howls with laughter at this, and Emlyn sighs heavily.
“Don’t laugh too hard,” Emlyn flashes a wolfish grin at Veni, “Depending on what that agreement covers, I might be training you to use that blind helm a lot better.”
“Atres, I like her,” Veni grins, “I don’t know if I should pity you or envy you.”
“Pity,” Benger grins, walking past Veni to get the box, “Definitely pity.”
Laughing, Veni wanders off. Argonath, still amused, looks at Emlyn, “Weasel, eh?”
“Weasel,” Emlyn replies firmly, “You ever watch weasels hunt?”
Argonath shakes his head.
“They’re ambush predators,” Emlyn says dryly.
Argonath chuckles, “Come along, we need to extend your contract. It’s a good thing you came yesterday, you know. They were about to ship a large number of people to Newside, but you beat the request here. I was able to reject it since we’re all currently occupied on this Divaros thing.”
Argonath observes Atres’s face, but Atres only shrugs, “I knew it was important yesterday.”
Turning to Emlyn, Atres says, “Now you start to see how this works a bit better?” and Emlyn nods.
“Who was going to be shipped to Newside?” Emlyn muses, “Maybe that’s worth looking into. Maybe it’s not the number of people but who specifically.”
Atres gets an odd look, and Argonath, seeing it, nods, “Right. Let me get the roster, and we’ll take a look.”
“This is like that childhood game,” Emlyn sighs, “where you get told if you are hot or cold depending on your distance to some random object.”
“It’s a bit of a guessing game,” Argonath agrees, “but you seem to be taking to it better than most.”
“Kethas was quite helpful,” Emlyn shrugs, “in explaining it in terms I can grasp. It was a primer on the Valkis gift, but it’s given me some ideas on how to try to tease out what it’s latching onto. What the inflection points are, where things take a turn for the better or the worse.”
“That’s why you asked about who they were planning to send to Newside,” Argonath nods, “You think one of them might know something.”
“Maybe not even know what it is that they know that’s important,” Emlyn replies, “but like Atres, they might know it when they see it or hear it or whatever. It might not hurt to ask everyone on that list what they know about the Fey, even if it’s just children’s stories.”
Argonath gets his thoughtful look and starts scratching out orders on his note page.
Benger sets the box on Argonath’s desk, and Emlyn reaches in, fishing out one of the paladin’s halos.
“We found these in the armory, and I wanted to see if you mind if I borrow them,” Emlyn explains.
Argonath looks up, takes in what looks like a shield grip and a very dusty box, before he shrugs, “You can have those old things. I’ll need to note that down so that they know to remove them from the inventory.”
Fishing around in his desk, Argonath pulls out a different pad and scribbles down some of the information from the box, before tearing off the sheet and placing it in a tray on his desk.
“Gods above!” Emlyn says, “Do you have a form for everything?”
Returning to his original notepad where he’s writing out the orders Nia suggested, Argonath nods, “Oh, yes. There’s a form for everything.”
Looking up, he grins at Emlyn, “Even when that’s a form I have to fill out explaining to the prince and the royal exchequer why someone’s getting paid ten stone of gold.”
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I show up. The suspense is killing me, and Atres’s doting is making my teeth ache. Leave a review if you think Nia should have given Atres a second 'corrective' whack just for good measure!"
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