by Sandra Elsa
After a swift three week journey, with Conall running point to avoid meeting anybody on the road, Bella and Trace dismounted in front of the small white clapboard house belonging to Dylan and Valla Marner.
Dylan’s son Jon flew down the three wooden steps and slid to a halt a respectful distance from Angel. When Bella moved away from the large black horse he ran up to her, talking like she hadn’t been gone for nearly half a year. Pestering her to practice swordsmanship with him.
“I’m much better now,” he bragged. “Now I’m nine years old and much stronger.” And so he proved to be.
A growth spurt in the past six months had left him almost as tall as Bella. His reach was as long as hers, but he had not been training under the King’s Guards, and he lacked the natural speed Bella had. He had not improved nearly as much as she had since they last sparred. She could easily have defeated him every time, but to encourage him, she let him win occasionally, and sometimes she enlisted him to challenge Trace.
Three days later, they just finished a match against Trace--Bella was laughing as she braided her copper curls back into some semblance of control, when Dylan returned from patrol.
Bella finished putting her hair up and hugged Dylan. In her mind, Conall growled at the familiarity. Bella shushed him and threatened to shield against him.
Dylan was surprised to find Bella and Trace at his farm and remembering how Johann had insisted on avoiding the King‘s soldiers before, he warned them, “As I turned down my path, there was a soldier coming down the road. He looked lost and may even be coming here.”
“That’s all right,” Bella told him. “He’s coming to see us.”
They had no gear marking them as soldiers or King's Guards, and Dylan opened his eyes wide in surprise.
“Yours was the only place either of us knew of to arrange a meeting this far north and west, other than in a town and we wanted to avoid being seen.” Trace told him. “Some of the soldiers of my old unit have friends within the border guard so they knew how to find you out here. Seemed like the logical place to meet. If it’s a problem we can ride out to him.”
“No, I trust Bella with my life,” Dylan responded. “I was just concerned because this soldier is carrying Telgarn gear, though he wears the livery of Ronan. And when Bella and Johann were here last, Johann took off like his tail was on fire when the soldiers were coming to pick up their prisoner.”
“That’s grandfather for you,” Trace laughed.
With a smile, Bella said, “The gear is for us. As soon as he arrives, we’ll be leaving to go through the mountains into Telgar. More than that I can’t tell you.”
The conversation took a swift change of direction. Dylan knew enough to know he didn’t need to know any more. “I see you’re riding Angel now,” he said. “He just keeps getting bigger and better looking.”
“Yes, everybody admires him and fears him all at the same time.”
“Temperament hasn’t changed then,” Dylan smiled. “I still haven’t figured out what he is, but he’s way too smart to just be your run of the mill horse.” Turning his attention to Trace, he said, “I’m guessing since he called Johann, Grandfather, this is the brother that you and Johann were going to Relante to look for. Not that I’m seeing much family resemblance.”
Smiling, Bella said, “Yes, this is Trace, but he’s only my adopted brother.”
“I see the resemblance to Johann in him. To tell you honestly,” Dylan said, “I never could see the slightest family connection between you and Johann. Adoption would certainly answer that question. I owed you too much when you were here last to ask any questions that would sound like I doubted what you’d told me. But your coloration more resembles the people of southern Swadan than that of your grandfather.”
Turning to the house, where Valla was coming out to greet her husband, Bella admitted, “Originally I’m from northwest Swadan, but I haven’t lived there in a long time.”
Trace was single-mindedly intent on the task at hand. “When we leave here, we have some things we will need to leave behind.”
Valla walked up to them and joined the conversation, saying, “Just leave what you need to in one of the stalls you’ve been staying in.”
They all walked to the barn and waited for Jasper.
He arrived shortly after Dylan, unknowingly escorted by Conall.
The wolf waited unseen in the forest by the trail while they saddled their horses with the tack Jasper brought. They didn’t ask where the equipment came from. It looked rich enough that it had probably once graced the backs of some minor noble’s horses, but there was nothing distinctive about it.
“Once you’re through the mountains, you might want to pick up a sidesaddle for your sister, Trace. I couldn’t get my hands on one, but these should get you by until you get closer to the Royal Court.” Jasper opened his packs and brought out some daggers and swords made in Telgar. “It’s not all that unusual for border women to ride astride. However, even if you have to buy it, she should have one before she gets to Court.”
Handing the weapons to Trace and Bella he apologized. “Nobody told me when I collected these weapons just how tiny your sister was, but these will have to do.” With a sidelong glance at Dylan he said, “If your mission involves what I think it does, you don’t want to jeopardize it by something as small as incorrect appointments. Find things that fit her once you‘re over the mountains.”
Lewdly he added, “I must say though, I wouldn’t mind seeing your sister in the clothing they wear at Court in Telgar. She’s a fine looking woman Trace. How could you be quartered with us for nearly two years and never once mention her?”
When he spoke of seeing Bella in the clothing of the Telgar Courts, a low growl arose from the forest. Trace heard it, and jokingly, he said, “Because Jasper, I’ve known wolves with better manners than the lot of you.”
“I can’t believe Trace ever thought of taking you to be with those men,” Conall said.
“Jasper was joking,” she thought to him in exasperation. His jealousy seemed a form of insanity to her. At least it was driving her crazy.
“You forget, I can read minds. He may be joking, but his words are not far from his heart. I would not trust you with them.”
“Thoughts are not actions,” Bella admonished. “This is a good and loyal soldier--you cannot penalize him for having thoughts. Only if he acts on those thoughts.”
“Where you’re involved, I can penalize anything I want to,” Conall grumped to her with no room for argument in his tone.
“When I first went back to see my grandfather and sister in Relante, I applied to have her join our unit.” Trace told Jasper, “Fortunately for me, she caught the eye of a higher ranking officer and she got me transferred to the unit she was assigned to.”
They gave a gold mark to Valla to pay for their keep and handed the rest of the gold and silver that had been stamped in Ronan to Jasper, to be given to his unit. Then with warm handshakes and hugs, they rode off toward the Rortags.