All three sets of eyes turned to him now. He knew how he looked, old and weathered, no hair, but nearly more gray than black in his eyebrows and stubble. He wasn’t the image of a young hero, except for the large sword he wielded. He slung it back over his shoulder into the sheath on his back.
The three boys waited for a moment, perhaps thinking he’d say more. He didn’t.
The skinny one asked, “how is Jais? He doesn’t look so good.”
“He’s tough. He’ll be well soon.”
The big one stepped forward, inching toward the dead krolls. “How did you do it?”
Barami didn’t have much patience for frivolous people. These boys were more interested in the fight than the people themselves. He could spin a yarn about a fight for those who appreciated it, those who understood what it meant to put your life in the balance and come out the other side, each battle changing you, never quite the same. These boys were not such men. They wanted something interesting to tell their friends or impress the girls. They wanted to claim fame by association. Well perhaps that was unfair. The other two seemed appropriately shocked. It was the big one who really seemed too eager to learn about things no one needed to know.
“Quickly.”
The large boy turned to him, a confused look on his face. “That’s it?”
Barami didn’t deign to respond to that one.
More noises in the woods came to his ears. The boys flinched, but a wafting voice came to Barami, a familiar one. Caer was returning.
A moment later, she and Jais’ aunt emerged from the woods, and the other three boys relaxed.
Caer looked around, concerned. “What are you three doing here?”
“We were looking for Jais,” the shortest one said. He was the tracker, Barami associated that deeper voice with what he’d heard earlier.
It was the aunt who responded. “Well you’ve found him now. Run back to Klasten’s Green and let the rest of the town know everyone is safe and the krolls have been killed.” When the boys didn’t move right away she added a clipped, “Now!”
The three started and nodded, moving off through the woods as a group.
The aunt and Caer exchanged a look. There was something there, some shared knowledge, some secret. Barami frowned. Caer had never had many secrets, especially from him.
He wouldn’t ask. He never did. If she wanted to tell him she would. Caer caught his gaze and made her way to him. She was moving easier, well healed by the look of things. This healer-woman really did have some special powers to fix a broken rib that quickly. Except Caer wasn’t in her usual leathers, but a simple dress. The cut wasn’t flattering, but seeing how it clung to her tall frame, too tight and too small, made his blood quicken. A part of him wanted to tell her she looked good, beautiful, but that wasn’t their relationship, and it wasn’t his place. Plus, she was a warrior first and a woman second. He knew that much about her. She wouldn’t care for such silliness.
“Can you follow those boys and be discreet?” Caer asked, voice hushed. “What’s about to happen here, we don’t want others to see.”
Barami nodded, and would have left without another word, but turned back to her after a half-step away. He’d had a thought. “Those boys have seen Jais now. If he starts walking around like nothing happened…”
Caer nodded with a frown. “I know.”
Barami gave a curt nod and left.
He wasn’t a tracker, not like some he’d known back among the Kigasi, his tribe, but he knew the basics. In this case that meant moving quietly through the forest looking at the signs the three boys had left behind. As he had expected, not long after the three had left the clearing one of them, the large one, had broken off from the other two. The other two had headed back to the village, the big one had doubled-back. Barami found him creeping through the forest toward one of the dead krolls; doing a decent job of staying quiet for one of his size.
Barami got within ten feet of the boy before saying, “You shouldn’t be here.”
The large boy jumped and spun, terror in his eyes, which quelled rapidly as he saw who had been following him. “I just wanted to get a better look at the krolls; never seen one up close before.”
“Pray to Suur you never do, dead or alive. Things like that never leave you.”
The boy let out a nasally breath of a laugh, acting tough. Perhaps he thought that Barami was weak for being haunted by such demons. If so, he was wrong. Living with such memories was not for one who was weak of spirit.
“I think I can handle a dead one just fine,” the boy said, flush with bravado.
Barami thought of what Caer was doing in the clearing. This kroll wasn’t that close, but there was a risk that the boy might see too much.
“Leave. Now.” Barami didn’t need to puff himself up. He leveled his gaze on the boy, years of battle and hard living behind that look. The boy flinched but didn’t otherwise exit the area.
“You’re not my keeper. I can do as I wish.”
Barami didn’t want to harm the boy… well, he may have wanted to teach him a lesson or two, but he knew it wouldn’t end up well for any of them.
The boy’s retort had been loud, defiant. Barami couldn’t see the clearing from where he was. He wondered if the others had heard it. If so, perhaps they wouldn’t proceed. But if they had already started and couldn’t stop… he didn’t know enough of how their powers worked. He couldn’t risk this boy seeing too much.
Perhaps the threat of violence would work. He drew his great blade off his back. It, much more so than the short sword at his hip, would intimidate. If the boy had known anything of combat he would have known such a weapon was near useless with all these trees around.
The boy didn’t and stumbled back until he hit a tree. Barami came onward, and the boy bolted, crashing through the forest back toward the village, away from the clearing.
Barami sighed and returned his weapon to its sheath. There would be a price for that action later, but for now Caer was safe. He returned to the clearing.
Jais had been stripped down, and the boy’s aunt was rubbing a dark grayish goo on his wounds and mumbling. Jais twitched and moaned, but didn’t otherwise seem to notice.
“It’s miraculous what she can do,” Caer said moving over to him. “I was healed in a matter of minutes, broken rib and all.”
“I am glad you are well.”
She looked at him with ‘the look’ in her eyes. He knew that look well. It was the one she gave him instead of saying how she felt about him. He knew she couldn’t, that it was complicated, and she didn’t want to lead him on by saying the wrong thing. It made his heart constrict anyway.
“What’s next?” he asked, hoping to change the topic and her mood.
She looked away and shrugged. “I’ll talk to the boy and see if he’s…” She pursed her lips. She was not good with her emotions or words which related to them. “If he’s available for… mating.” She’d lowered her voice. Perhaps she didn’t want the aunt to hear.
“What do you think of him?” Barami was curious. He hadn’t asked what he’d really wanted to ask: ‘did she have feelings for the boy?’
Caer had only known Jais for a couple of days, but he’d seen looks between them. There was something there that broke through their lack of familiarity. He guessed it was their shared heritage. They had found someone who was like them. That was nothing to dismiss.
“He’s… everything he seems to be: tough, strong, brash, and young.” After a moment she went on, but her voice had changed, there was something strange in the timbre now. “Fearless and brave. A warrior.”
And that was the moment he knew he would never be with her. He’d known in theory for some time, but those few words, which described him as much as the boy, had been said with a faint longing, a distant hope. She didn’t just want a fearless warrior, if so she’d have chosen him long ago. No, she wanted a specific fearless warrior… and it wasn’t him.
He grunted, not trusting his words.
“He’ll make a strong child,” she said softly. There was pain in her voice though. Was she questioning her choice? Or perhaps she was regretting having turned this young man’s life upside down? He didn’t know.
“You need to say something to him.” Barami said evenly.
“I will.” But her tone wasn’t firm, there was still a question there.
He shook his head. This wasn’t the Caerwyn he knew. This whole quest for a child had changed her. The changes were small, and he wasn’t even sure if she knew it yet, but he could see it. The lack of certainty, the self-questioning. This wasn’t the woman he knew.
Yet… he knew she’d still never choose him. That was a certainty. He’d never be who she wanted. He wasn’t drahksani. That thought soured his mood. That boy was going to give her something Barami himself never could.
Barami nodded and turned away. He made a pretense of tending to the fire, but he just needed to not be facing her. Not while that tear was on his cheek.
8
Jais ducked under Caerwyn’s blade, raising his own to block her quick back-handed strike. He came up on her right side and with his free hand grasped her shoulder and pushed her off balance. If they hadn’t been practicing at half speed, and if he had actually put his full strength behind the push, she probably would have fallen, but she stumbled to one side, catching her balance.
“Yes!” She was grinning. “Now you’re getting the idea of using everything at your disposal. That free hand of yours can be doing so much more than just hanging at your side. With your strength, you can punch or push people around the battlefield to gain an advantage.”
“What about using a shield like Barami does?” Jais asked. He’d been fighting both of them for hours at a time for the last day or so.
His aunt had healed him then left, returning to her usual duties. She’d wanted to bring him back home, but knew he couldn’t be seen anywhere near the village for at least a week. She wasn’t supposed to be a miracle healer, just an exceptional one, and given his injuries, he wouldn’t have been up and about and looking completely healed for at least several days. So he’d stayed in the forest and trained more with Caerwyn and Barami. It was edging toward evening on the day after he’d been healed. In that short period of time, with such intense training, he felt like he had learned so much, and was on his way to becoming a more-than-decent warrior, like the two who taught him.
“You could,” Caerwyn said with a noncommittal sideways nod of her head. “It would help protect you. But you’d probably be better off learning to fight with two weapons, long sword and short sword perhaps.”
“Oh?” Jais was curious about this. He’d never seen anyone fight with two weapons at once.
“It takes a lot of effort to learn to use your off hand as good as your primary hand, but if you can…” She took the step over to him and put her short sword in his left hand, moving it around as she spoke. “You can use that weapon, or either weapon really, to block attacks like you would with a shield, but at the same time you can also attack twice as much as well.” She was close to him, using both her hands to help his left hand get a feel for moving with the sword. Her left side was pressed into him. With her taller stature that put her shoulder at his chin and he could smell her leathers and sweat. It was an odd scent for a woman. Alnia smelled of crushed flowers or berries or some other perfume she’d picked up from the merchant’s shop. She was one of only a few girls in town whose father had enough wealth to buy such things. Alnia smelled as beautiful as she looked. Caerwyn smelled as rough as she looked.
Unbidden Jais recalled when he’d woken yesterday and seen Caerwyn in one of his aunt’s dresses. He’d had to look away. The simple frock was practically scandalous on the warrior-woman. The way it pressed tight to her bosom and hips, accentuated by the belt around her waist, and ended at her knees revealing strong well rounded calves. She’d not looked like herself.
Caerwyn was saying something but Jais’ mind had wandered.
“What was that last bit, sorry?”
She turned toward him, still close, her body brushing his. “Did I wear you out already? Need a rest?”
“No, I’m good to keep going. You were talking about how to use two weapons?”
Her face, so close and slightly above his, broke into her usual lopsided grin, that scar on her cheek tugging at the one side of her mouth. “Probably easier to show you anyway. Something tells me with your natural gifts for this, it will come easily enough.” Stepping away, she left her sword in his off hand. She retrieved her spear from nearby. “Barami, let’s test this boy out!”
The bald warrior was sitting by the fire. He’d seemed sullen ever since Jais had awoken, and he rose slowly. “What do you need?”
“Your sword. We’re going to walk through a scenario with Jais. Two people, each with weapons of greater reach attacking him, while he defends with two weapons.”
Barami grunted and made his way over.
“First a few quick lessons.” This was to Jais. Caerwyn stood before him spear at the ready. “You remember all the blocks you learned with your right hand? Think you can do that with your left?”
Jais shrugged. “We’ll find out.”
She jabbed in at him slowly, calling out her attacks. “High.” She poked at his shoulder and he swung the blade in his left hand around to block it. “Low.” She poked at his thigh, and he swiveled his hand around to bring the sword sweeping across his body to block that. “Head.” She swung her spear first in an arc horizontally at his head, he ducked a little and raised the sword high to block. “Head.” This time she swung downward at his head, and he stepped back bringing his blade up horizontally to block the blow.
“You’ve got the basics. Now let’s see if you can keep track of two people attacking you.” Her grin was no longer quite so friendly, more mischievous.
Barami stepped up. There was a fair space between him and Caerwyn, as would be needed for him to swing that large sword. At this point they were both still in front of him, but he could see how easy it would be for them to split farther apart, so he’d be fighting at his sides or with his back to one of them.
“Nice and slow, we don’t want to kill the boy… yet,” Caerwyn said and set the pace with a slow jab in at his chest. Barami began moving at the same time, starting a grand swing over his head which would eventually come down on Jais’ shoulder or neck.
Jais swept Caerwyn’s spear aside and did the thing which made the most sense to him. He was fighting two people with longer reach weapons, so he got in close to one of them. Stepping in closer to Caerwyn, keeping his one blade on her spear, he swept a blow in at her neck as he drew nearer.
“Well done!” she said as she moved, ducking, and at the same time switching her grip on the spear to bring the blunt end of the haft up into his gut. He bent back spinning away while moving the blade still touching the spear down the haft toward her hands.
She dropped the spear, calling it back to her hands a moment later as she too stepped back. Jais continued his spin and moved away from her, trying to keep her between him and Barami who was moving in still.
“Good. See if you can keep me between you and Barami!”
She stepped in once again, this time jabbing higher at his shoulder. He blocked with his opposite hand as he spun turning his back to her for a moment, and bringing his other sword around at her midsection. But as he spun his head around, she wasn’t there.
“Never turn your back on an enemy unless you know you’re faster than they are.” He felt the spear haft push into his back. It would have been a jarring-pushing blow at full speed. It also seemed to wrap around him as he turned and ended up pushing him toward Barami. He ducked an upward blow from that massive sword, crouching low to launch himself at the warrior, both blades committed to a slicing action across Barami’s mid-section.
The pommel of Barami’s sword came down, thankfully slowly, on the back of his head. Again at full speed, that might have completely felled him.
As it was, it knocked him off balance, and he fell to the ground at Barami’s feet. Two separate points touched his back.
“You’re dead,” Barami said with a faint note of glee.
Jais stayed down for a moment. The mosses of the forest floor filled his nostrils with their earthen scent.
He rolled over.
“It seems so obvious that I need to get in close when you both have longer weapons, but with people moving around so much it seems impossible to stay in close.”
Caerwyn had withdrawn Davlas and leaned against it, offering a hand to help him up. “It doesn’t help that you’re fighting two experienced warriors who are also well coordinated in fighting together. Some people wouldn’t be as quick as we are. We call them ‘dead’.”
He accepted her hand and got to his feet, crouching to retrieve his two swords.
“On the positive side, you seem to naturally understand the concept of two weapon fighting. When you have two weapons and your opponent doesn’t, keep them threatened and moving. You did that well enough.”
Something occurred to Jais then. “But you have two weapons too.”
She nodded. “A spear can be wielded more like a staff, making its haft a weapon too. It was the best tactic, once you were in close, to use the spear that way; countering your two weapons with my two. Shall we go again?”
He sighed. There was a lot he’d just learned. “I think I need a moment to take this all in,”
Caerwyn shrugged. “Have a seat, and I’ll go over some of the finer points of two weapon work.” She waved in the direction of a tree while moving away to retrieve a waterskin.
He sat back against the tree, and she joined him a moment later, handing him the waterskin after she’d had a long pull.
She didn’t say anything right away. After a long moment of silence he looked over at her. The expression on her face was hard to read. She almost seemed nervous, a look which didn’t suit her and was not one he’d expected.
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