A Soul of Steel

by Troy A Hill

  “Children of the Night.”

  “Yes, those were his words. He wanted the blade to reflect that.”

  “That sounds like the Aemi I know and love.”

  “When I left on that last morning before sunrise, he stayed long at the doorway, not saying the final farewell.” I sensed Emlyn was reliving the day as his eyes drifted across the blades. “Emilius, he avoided the sun more than you do.”

  “I have a newly acquired connection to a goddess, and it seems to help,” I said. I was still getting used to the idea that a goddess even existed, let alone liked me.

  “Emilius took your blade off the wall. He meant it for you, should you ever come back to him.” His quiet tone shifted to one of melancholy. “He handed me your blade. ‘You, she may find. If she does, give her this, with my love.’”

  My brother thought of me after all these years? That knowledge, and the pain of our separation, drove themselves home. I didn’t want to cry, yet another pair of tears ran down my cheeks.

  “There is one other word scribed on your blade.”

  I turned my sword over and tilted it. There was my name, Maria, along the blade. Until now, I was just hearing a story about our teacher and the swords. When I saw my name on it, my years away from my soul-mate, my emotions for Aemi, crashed on me at once. All of the love secluded in the back of my mind came roaring back.

  Aemi and I shared the most special of bonds, and we connected through the man I now shared a bed with, and shared our love of the dance with. My master, our master, told us many times we would have to open our hearts to love many, not just one. I assumed he meant love one mortal, then another as the years took them from us. They would age and die, and we’d have to find another mortal to love.

  Gwen, along with Emlyn, shared my heart. And through Emlyn I revived a long-lost connection to the only other person I who shared a piece of my soul. Had my master not died the true death many years before, he too would have my heart. He had been correct, but until now, I didn’t realise until now what he meant.

  My new lover sat next to me. I leaned into him and let him wrap me in his embrace.

  “Thank you.” I whispered. “Thank you for helping me reconnect with Aemi.” Emlyn pulled me in tight. A man of few words.

  “Who else knows of your nature?” he asked. “Other than Gwen? And will she understand our connection, our…?”

  “Either we are sloppy, or you are very observant,” I said. “Yes, she knows, and she has urged me to bed you. She says our passion on the practice field shows we are connected.”

  “I suspected that you would need another dinner partner. Is she…”

  “Yes, she gave way too much when she nursed me back to … well… life… after the Witch Hunters got me in the borderlands.” I said. “Rhian and I chatted tonight. She noticed I don’t eat.”

  “I did too, but I knew what to look for. That’s why I ate the berries you kept sneaking back onto your plate.” He grinned, a rare sight on his serious face. “You told her of your … nature?”

  “Yes… this place feels like home…” I enjoyed being in his arms.

  “Rhian is very observant. She has to be as Lady Penllyn.” He squeezed me tight for a second. “You are among friends here. My brother's marriage is political, but they are a strong couple for Penllyn. Even if they don't share a bed. I trust my brother and his wife with my life… and now yours.”

  I was quiet. There were more people in Caer Penllyn who knew of my nature than ever had, outside my Master’s villa.

  “Anyone else know about you?” Emlyn asked.

  “I believe the only other one is Ruadh,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “and I know of his curse as well, as you already heard tonight.” I watched the War Leader persona steal across his face. I wondered where I fit into his list of assets.

  16

  Stitches

  By the time my students arrived at the hilltop for their lessons, I had a silly smile locked onto my face. I concentrated and tried to get my mind under control. Sawyl seemed oblivious, but Enid cocked an eyebrow at me.

  I halfway expected Emlyn to come to the field, but I knew he would need to rest before starting the day. Still, I wanted to feel his touch again. One night of passion only ignited the fire within me. Enid picked up on my passion still simmering. She coughed once and cocked her head at the large guardsman as he fumbled a meditation. I hadn’t caught it. My cheeks warmed as I blushed. Since I had fed from Emlyn last night, my body could react in normal human fashion.

  We finished the lesson without him. I returned to my cottage and changed into another of the altered dresses I found there.

  I stepped out into the morning sun. With Emlyn’s blood in me, my skin had darkened to its natural tone. I was still getting used to seeing my flesh in the daylight, instead of the grey night. I concentrated on my connection to the goddess. It was there. If I paid close attention, I could sense a slight hum. Magic that fed me energy. Divine energy let me walk in the sunlight without fatigue. Getting noticed by a goddess can make a girl feel special.

  I had learned to time my arrival in the main hall once the hall was mostly empty. I poured a small cup of water and accepted one the girls’ offer of bread. A hungry dog would come see me, and I could pass off the food. Until then, I did my usual tricks of breaking off small bits of food, and palming them while I pretended to nibble.

  Emlyn drifted in. His eyes found me. I smiled, but left it at that. He smiled then tossed bread and some fruits onto his plate. The kitchen girls had left a platter out for late arrivals. He grabbed a cup and the final pitcher left on the serving table and came to join me. A few of the younger kitchen girls, the ones who were excited earlier in the week with the prospect of time on the floor with the swordsman, peeked around the corner.

  “We are the talk of the kitchen,” I said and raised my cup to my lips for their benefit.

  “Let me see your cup,” he said and made a show of pouring water into it. With his back to the girls, they didn't see he barely drizzled any into the cup.

  “Anything new from Lady Gwen?”

  “Lady?” I asked. “Are we that formal still?”

  “She has always been quiet about her past,” he said and held his mug in front of him with two hands, elbows on the table. “But she’s been in Penllyn the last decade enough, it’s easy to deduce that Lady is the least of her titles.”

  “Does everyone here know?” My stomach twitched with worry. Gwen’s history, her longevity, her royal titles could cause quite a stir with the Witch Hunters.

  “My brother might,” Emlyn said between bites. He had taken the bread from my plate first then worked on his own food. “Bleddyn’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut about such things. Rhian probably knows more than you believe. If you asked, she could tell you what colour horse the king of Mercia was riding today. She seems to know everything about everyone. But, back to my question. Have you heard from Gwen?”

  “She contacted me a few minutes before you came in. They’ll return this afternoon.” I didn’t tell him she had asked how my dance with him had gone.

  “Kissing and telling?” He grinned, though it disappeared quickly.

  “Perhaps,” I replied. “Gwen asked what it takes to learn the sword dances. Perhaps she has her eye on you, as well.”

  “One of you is all I can handle,” he said, his voice still quiet. Another girl peeked out at us from the kitchen. I was glad that only I had my face toward the girls. For now, I hoped, their gossip was still in the “maybe they are…?” stage. But, my fingers were touching his arm. Damn. They’d know now, for sure.

  Once he finished his meal, he stood and glanced toward the door to the kitchen. Another girl watched. He raised one of my hands to his lips. A smile drifted across his face. The girl peaking around the side of the doorframe darted back has he spun toward the exit. I grinned myself, but could feel my cheeks warm again. Getting noticed by the Penteulu made me feel special, too.

  Rhian
drifted through, and took the chair Emlyn had just left.

  “What’s got the kitchen girls chattering today?” she asked.

  “Apparently, me,” I said. “Your Penteulu came and sat with me this morning. He even smiled.”

  “Oh dear,” she said. “Perhaps I should have one of the herb-women make him a tonic. He never smiles.”

  About that time, an older women came through the great hall, with a bundle of cloth in her arms. She noticed me, and headed our way.

  “Oh, Lady Mair,” she said and tried to curtsey and hold the cloth out to me at the same time. I chuckled, and took the clothing. “I’ve finished alterations on your dresses dear, at least the ones Lady Gwen passed along.” Two were the dresses that Gwen said would suit me well with their darker colours.

  “Thank you,” I searched my memory for her name, “Rhosyn, is it not?” She smiled at my recognition and bobbed another curtsey.

  “I dinnae like just the slitted seam, it shows too much leg and not give ye enough room. So fer these other two, and their underdresses, I added gores to each side seam to give you plenty of room in the skirts, and that should open the shoulders up.” She passed the pile of clothing to Rhian, as though Lady Penllyn was just another serving girl. Rhian took the bundle and gave me a little smile as her seamstress chatted without taking a breath. Rhosyn opened one dress and held it up so I could see the additions.

  “I found some nice wool that almost matched the colours of these that Lady Gwen passed me for you. And I had enough linen on hand without running down to the village to see the tailor there.” She said. “But I noticed this blue dress isn’t decorated yet, milady. Although it seems older in style, more like what my Grandmum wore in her day. I’d be happy to add it to me stack of embroidery if you like.”

  “Thank you, Rhosyn,” I quickly interrupted. Getting the woman to pause was a challenge. “I would love to pick up a needle again, since I seem to have free time with everyone off on their errands.”

  “I bring ye some thread and some needles.” She said. “I think a white would be lovely on that colour, or would ye prefer another, Milady Mair?”

  “That is fine, thank you Rhosyn.”

  “White it is,” she declared. “If ye keep the blue dress with ye,” she returned it but didn’t stop talking. “I be dropping these off in yer cottage and be back in a jiff with the thread and needles for ye.” After a quick curtsey she was out the door.

  “I hope you don’t mind being entertained by Rhosyn?” Rhian said. “I fear you’ve made a friend for the afternoon.”

  Rhosyn did come back in a “jiff” and passed me her ball of white thread and showed me her box of needles. I had a design in mind I wanted to try. In the past, I found that having needlework handy kept my hands busy, and allowed me many opportunities to make connections and stay current on courtly gossip. Today was to be no different, as Rhosyn sat in a chair near mine, and pulled out a dress to work on.

  “A gift for Lord Cadoc’s new bride.” She winked at me. “Lady Penllyn wanted to get her one in Penllyn’s colours for the more formal events.” The seamstress was a bundle of conversation that never ceased as her fingers worked the needle in and out of the cloth. “I was going to be making all flowers in the design, but with her taking the sword with you each morn, I decided to add a blade into the design on each shoulder.”

  I spent the next several hours by the fire. I embroidered while Rhosyn filled me in on more gossip than I thought possible for one person to hold. Never mind I knew few of the people she rattled on about. Though I learned that Sawyl and the kitchen girl who had her eye on him were seeing more of each other in the evenings.

  “Do you have an eye to marry, milady?” Her question caught me off-guard.

  “I’m not sure…”

  “Of course not, dear,” she said and reached out to pat my hand. “But the girls all like to talk about the Lord Emlyn, they do. He not always be Emlyn. He took that name after he came back from his sword school. He didn’t take his da’s name. He was too self-conscious, being an orphan. I told ye that, right? To be takin’ the name of Lord Penllyn, the one afore Bleddyn.”

  This woman rarely stopped for breath. I had already learned her husband had been a guardsman, and they had married right before Emlyn had gone to study with Emilius. Her husband had died in one of the wars with the Saxons, but she stayed on at the keep as head seamstress. She continued with Emlyn’s story while I kept my needle moving.

  “Anyhoo, his given name be Neirin, now it’s Neirin ap Emlyn. He says that is the name of his teacher.”

  That made sense. Emlyn… Emilius… Aemilianus. He chose his family name from the man who had inspired him the most.

  “He was always a carefree lad after Lord Penllyn, the old one, brought him here from his burned village.” Her needle moved faster than her lips did. “At first, after his village, his parents had been slaughtered by raiders, Neirin wouldn’t smile at first. Then when Lord Owain, the Penteulu afore him, started training him in blades, young Neirin lit up. He started joking and laughing. But, on the practice field he be ruthless.”

  “Interesting.” I was proud I could get a word in while she took a breath.

  “His change came at a dark time for Penllyn. He went out with Lord Penllyn as new Penteulu after Lord Owain died. They were riding between the villages. Making lists of what weapons and men there be. That’s when they was attacked. Old Lord Fadog ambushed them. Slimy bastard he was.

  “Lord Emlyn brough’ Lord Penllyn’s body here. He collapsed in his brother’s arms. They poured mead into him and got him to stand again. It not be his fault that old Fadog was a backstabbing scum…. Anyhoo, that night…” she paused to look at me. Even her needle stopped.

  “That night he was out with a single blade. He wouldn’t stop. Not even to sleep. I took blankets in hope he would lay and rest. His brother and Lady Penllyn, they made him go to the funeral mass, they did. He was right back out there afterward. The next morning, the teulu was camped on the plain below. They all heard of the treachery of Fadog and came to rid the world of their lord’s murderer. After a short sleep he and Lord Penllyn, the new one, being they had just put their da’ in the catacombs, they led the men into Fadog. They killed the slimy bastard, they did."

  Her story was interesting. I might have to press Emlyn to get more information about the actual fight. But, for now, I let Rhosyn ramble.

  “I never seen him smile since he brought his da’s body back that one day. Never since. He said Neirin died with his father. He would accept only the name Emlyn after that.” She patted my hand again. “You do him good, Lady Mair. I’m seeing the old Neirin again. There be a glint in his eyes the other night when you danced swords wit’ him here in the great hall. I haven’t seen that for years. Thank ye.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. It didn’t matter. She started with another, unrelated, story right away. As I listened, I worked at the design on the sleeve of my dark blue dress.

  Boots clomped across the wooden floor behind me, and Rhosyn was on her feet in an instant.

  “Milord Penllyn, and Lady Gwenhwyfar,” she dropped a curtsey to them. “I was just tellin’ milady Mair here what a wonder Lord Neirin, I mean Lord Emlyn is, and how he might be lookin’ for a bride, and… Oh, well. I see ye be having much to discuss. I be on me way. Thank ye Lady Mair for the conversation. It does pass the time of day, don’t it?” She curtseyed again and was on her way, leaving me with the ball of thread and the needle I was using.

  Gwen couldn’t help but laugh, and Bleddyn gave me a smirk.

  “Lord Neirin, eh? I haven’t heard that name for him in over a decade.” He grinned. “I see you’ve found your life’s calling in listening to Rhosyn as she sews.”

  “It does pass the time, don’t it, milord?” I mimicked the seamstress and got a chuckle out of him.

  17

  Plans

  Bleddyn waved a kitchen girl over. Once he had sent her back for a jug and cups, he settled int
o his chair. Gwen sat next to me and saw what I had been working on. She reached over to give me a sideways hug. The tingle and excitement her touch awakened in me was still there. My heart had two holes she and Emlyn each filled. Gods, this was a complicated relationship.

  Rhian joined us a moment later. She carried the mead jug and a handful of mugs by their handles. “I was in the kitchen,” she said as she set the drinks on a nearby table. “I sent for Cadoc and Emlyn.”

  “I see you survived Rhosyn.” Rhian said. “I am sorry if you were inconvenienced.”

  “Not in the least. Compared to some of my recent past, she was a delight. Although, I may have to use Enid as an excuse and pull her back onto the practice field if Rhosyn spends another day telling me the gossip.”

  “My wife would love to spend more time with you, Milady Mair,” Cadoc said as he pulled a chair over. “She likes to practice the meditations in our cottage each evening. I stay in a corner when she does, but she is always excited to show me what she’s learned.”

  Emlyn dropped into a chair opposite me and out of my reach. I’d been with Gwen long enough that the immediate urge to touch wasn’t as strong. But, less than a day after my passionate night with Emlyn, I still found my hand twitching to reach out to him. I made the twitches look like jerks on my needle as I sewed.

  “We’ve got a beast prowling the middle to southern end of the border,” Bleddyn said, his voice quiet but hard. “I found a few tracks of a bear. But, that area is too overgrown for good prints. I'd say only a day or two old.”

  "The carnage I heard about up north," Emlyn said, "would have been at least a week ago. Maybe longer. A bear could have done the damage up there."

  “Should we send out a hunting party? Spears and archers?” Emlyn asked.

  “Yes. Mechain has already sent out a party,” Bleddyn said. “We came across one of their patrols. I sent word to Einion that we’d do the same. If we begin in the middle of our border and work south, we may drive it between the two parties.”