by Abby Aaron
His lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue boldly darting inside. Loinbard backed away with a grin before offering the weapon back to her. Jemina realized the entire process that got them to this point had been orchestrated by the triad so they could win the challenge. Anders fall, Aras’ kiss, Loinbard ending up with her sword.
She had wanted to earn their respect, but ended up gaining a bit of it herself. A smile touched her lips. She promised herself she would still find a way to repay their rude scolding and physical attack on her person. But first, she wanted to enjoy more of their kissing.
9
Lasting Promise
Ellias stood ready to face off with the triad from Konrad and Finn. The liberties the men had taken during Jemina’s challenge enraged him. The tense manner Darnish and Leodon held themselves confirmed they were furious, too. Had any of them carried their sword to this arena, they certainly would have pulled it now as they waited. “Sons of Konrad and Finn,” Ellias roared, “in front of all present, I wish to tell you…”
“The first win goes to your triad,” Ellena finished for him, earning a nasty glare from her husbands. She faced them with a polite smile. “The challenge was set and the rules announced. By our daughter’s own words. To win, a triad had to be the first to remove the sword from her hand.”
“No warrior has been successful in unarming Jemina for two cycles, wife. It was the only reason we allowed such a ridiculous event in the first place.” Leodon took a step toward Aras. Both Jemina and her mother stepped forward to block his path.
Darnish glared at them. “You both were convinced none of the triads would be able to claim a victory today.”
“This was purely a lesson so her suitors would gain respect for her before the real competition commenced,” Ellias pointed out. “Yet now you seek to assign a winner. Tis the truth wife, I would toss two of the triads out now, had we not already agreed to let them take part.” Rounding on the triad from Finn, he addressed Hendrix personally. “I may be older than you, but my hearing is excellent. Dare you speak to my daughter in such a vulgar way again, and I will ensure the paltry wounds she inflicted will be multiplied by ten.”
Johan was quick to defend his brother. “He employed shocking words to gain an advantage against a fighter threatening him with a sword. Neither he or I physically struck your daughter or laid our lips upon hers. That insult came from the Konrad triad alone.”
“You acted like childish warriors, daring to come in search for your weapons when your pride was stung by a superior fighter.” Ellena flashed a deadly expression at Johan until he backed away. Then she addressed her mates again. “Tis the truth, Jemina and I had no way of knowing Aras, Anders and Loinbard would approach the challenge in such an unusual manner, but it would be dishonorable to deny them a win which they clearly earned.”
Ellias motioned for his triad to join him. They spent a few moments conferring before coming to an agreement. “Our wife speaks the truth. The Village of Urijah will not go back on the rules announced. Know this. We will take great care to think carefully about what determines the victories in future challenges. Ellena and Jemina, you will escort our wounded guests to the healer’s compound.”
Both women seemed displeased with the suggestion and exchanged a secret look. Ellena smiled sweetly and started to suggest their daughter show the men while she stayed behind. Leodon cut her off.
“We will join you there after we have a private meeting with the winning triad. This is not open to debate. You can explain any displeasure with this choice later, in the privacy of our family unit. We will be ready to share our own disappointment in today’s proceedings then, too.”
Jemina sought to object, but her mother quickly grabbed her hand and led her away. “Follow us, Sage, Riley, Tyler, and you lot,” she called to the injured warriors.
Once alone, the fathers started circling Aras, Loinbard and Anders, their wrath apparent. “How dare any of you lay claim to our daughter’s lips,” Ellias condemned.
“Much less assume the right to discipline her,” Darnish censured.
“Those rights belong to the triad which weds her.” Leodon spat. “The wedding dance and pledging chant are not things to be mocked and manipulated so you can win a contest. With this win, you have lost our respect, men of Konrad and Finn. Think you for a moment we will soon forget this insult and award you anymore wins?”
“We were not mocking the dance or pledge,” Anders held his head high.
“Both were performed as should be, when a triad has determined a bride they lay claim to, sir,” Loinbard clarified.
“You have not been awarded our daughter’s hand in marriage,” Ellias yelled, his temper palpable now. “Jemina has not given her pledge to you.”
“Without winning the competition,” Darnish pointed out, “you just promised to give your love, protection and seed to one woman. Another triad may win. Are your vows so meaningless you will offer them again to a second bride?”
“Win her hand or not,” Aras said, his eyes locked on Ellias’, “the pledge was given in good faith. Our triad has claimed Jemina as our wife. Even if she marries another, we will never do so. The dance and chant were official declarations for all to see. Our triad will claim no other woman, even if it means we never are able to form an official family unit. We all agreed to this before deciding to perform the dance and chant.”
“Do you understand exactly what you three are asserting?” Leodon asked and each of the younger warriors nodded the affirmation without hesitation. The three fathers’ postures became less threatening at this news. “I wish you luck then, triad of Konrad and Finn.”
“Though we cannot favor you in future challenges,” Darnish said, extending his hand to Aras, “know you have reclaimed our respect. Now let’s join the others at the healer’s compound before our wife and daughter sneak back to make sure we haven’t slaughtered you all.”
Loinbard laughed at the words, sure the older man was jesting. The serious expression on each father’s face had him swallowing the sound. “The compound is this way, right?”
Aras pulled his sword free and cautiously advanced. A few feet ahead, his lovely Jemina stood unaware a vicious hound was directly behind her. The animal sensed their approach and bared his fangs in the warriors’ direction. He had fought creatures like this before, while roaming between the second set of walls at the city, of all places. This one claimed more sharp teeth than those beasts. He also had an extra, sharp toe claw on both front paws.
Sword raised high, Aras knew he must kill the animal before it could do harm to Jemina. The beast was not the only one who was aware of his arrival. Jemina turned to give him a welcoming smile before noticing his intent. “Aras, don’t you dare harm my pet!” she ordered, grabbing the fierce animal by the scruff and pulling him behind her. The animal whimpered like a pup.
She patted his head gently, giving him words of praise. “You did well, warning me about an approaching threat. I am proud of you, Smiley. What a good boy you are.” She started scratching underneath the beast’s chin, bending down to hug him around the neck next. Stowing his weapon, Aras wished he was as lucky as the dog.
Anders and Loinbard reached where he stood. They had been farther back, walking in step with the fathers, unaware of Aras’ concern. Now they noticed the way the woman they claimed as bride glared at him. “That is not the expression of a happy woman,” his brother teased him.
“Try not to blow our advantage in the competition. We want to win her approval, not her fury,” Anders said his words slowly, as if trying to advise a small child who was struggling to discern the complex rules of a game.
“The hound at her feet is her pet,” Aras announced. “She calls it Smiley.”
Loinbard made his way forward, slowly extending his hand so the animal could sniff it. The dog was cautious at first, but when Jemina gave an approving nod, it licked his palm. “You look like a Smiley with all those extra teeth. I’ve encountered hounds like this outsid
e my village during my hunts. They generally avoid humans. How did you manage to befriend it, much less let the guards surrounding your village allow it within the borders?”
“Our healer raises dogs,” Jemina explained, favoring him with a smile before cutting a disappointing look toward Aras. “The warriors assumed Smiley was one of her animals. I found him as a pup just outside the village boundary. The poor thing was skin and bones. I nursed him back to health and he has been my pet ever since.”
“My apologies for planning to harm your pet.” Hoping to make up for the offense, Aras came forward and tried to pat the animal’s head. It growled and flashed its abundance of teeth at him. Thanks to his years of training as a warrior, Aras did not back away, but it was difficult. He hoped changing the subject might improve Jemina’s temperament. “How are the other triads?”
“Dalia has patched them up,” she told him. “Come, I will show you inside her compound so you can see for yourself.” Aras did step back them. His distrust of healers was impossible to hide. “There is nothing to be worried about,” Jemina told him. “There is nothing inside but healing herbs and such. Don’t you have a healer in your village?”
Loinbard did not trust healers either, but he was able to contain his feelings. “We have a healer, but she does not raise hounds.”
Nodding as if she understood now, Jemina tried to sooth Aras’ concerns. “Her animals are well mannered. She breeds them carefully to bring out useful traits, but none are used for fighting, if that is what causes your apprehension.”
“I would like to see inside the healer’s first circle,” Anders announced, unaware of his new brothers’ strange suspicion of healers. “How did Hendrix and Johan handle having to seek medical attention after their defeat. It is not honorable for me to find pleasure in their humiliation,” he said. “Yet I do, so you must tell me everything you noticed. Feel free to exaggerate their pain.”
“You are not still dealing with the frustration of them tossing you out of their triad?” Jemina teased. “Don’t you find your new group more suitable?”
“As much as it pains me to admit as much, Hendrix and Johan gave me the best gift of all my life. By rejecting me, they freed me to form a much better, honorable alliance with Aras and Loinbard. Still, it would please me to know they have suffered from their hasty decision.”
Laughing with understanding, Jemina put her arm through his, and ushered Anders inside. “Hendrix asked for something to dull the pain before allowing Dalia to stitch up the wound on his face. Johan was too proud to do so, and the sting brought tears to his eyes. He put it off as a reaction to the hound hair in the compound, but no one else was fooled.”
Aras and Loinbard followed, uncomfortable with entering the healer’s domain, but unwilling to let Jemina out of their sight so long as Hendrix or Johan were nearby. “Why didn’t you cut Crosby as you did the others?” Aras asked.
“It would be a shame to mar his beauty,” she told him. Jealousy filled his mind with images of disfiguring Crosby so Jemina would not wish to gaze upon him. She was turned away from him and did not notice. “Appearance is the sole strength the poor man has,” she told Anders. “Why would any triad ever think trading you for him would give them an advantage?”
Loinbard was happy to explain. “According to them, you fell madly in love with Crosby after laying eyes on his perfect features.”
“I did not notice his features first,” Jemina said. She looked at Anders again as she continued, “I saw his hair and mistook it for yours.”
Aras noticed how her eyes grew wide. What had her strange words meant? Before he could question her, she threw open the door to the first circle in the village’s healing building. “Do not worry about the hounds you see inside. They are well behaved. And don’t try to kill any of them,” she told Aras with a weary look. “Dalia won’t forgive such a mistake, and you are likely to require her healing skills at some point in your time here.”
He did not hesitate to reply. “I am pleased you are concerned about my welfare, village bride, but you need not worry. My brother or Anders will stitch up any wounds I may gain. I do not put my faith in healers. In my experience, they have hidden agendas.”
The first level of the healer’s building reeked of subterfuge. Aras began studying the floor in search of the hidden entrance to the level just below. Then the large cases lining the wall caught his attention. The rest of his triad and Jemina’s fathers sought the spot where the wounded men were resting. Aras headed toward the strange shelves full of jars that lined the walls. There had to be hundreds of the tiny containers, and each had a label filled with detailed notes.
Lifting one, he found it cold to the touch as if it was being protected by some type of coolant to preserve the contents inside. He silently read the label. “Sperm of alpha male, gray pack. Offspring bred should be skilled in tracking through smell.”
“You must be highly regarded in your village,” Jemina told him as he replaced the jar. She followed along as he scanned the different labels. “Few here read. Unless the elders deem it important, most males train solely for defending. Yet you are clever at both reading and defending. Are you slated to be a village elder one day?”
“My second mother insisted everyone in our family unit learn how to read. Knowledge is power she insisted. Secret text might provide needed information to preparing oneself for future battles.”
“You are a very solemn man, Aras.” She moved closer, and he could smell her beautiful hair. It reminded him of exotic fruit, rare and addictive. “I can see determination in your face. What past battles haunt you?”
Aras reached up to trace the soft curve down her chin. His thumb touched her bottom lip, pulling it down playfully, exposing the inside. “When you are my wife, there will be no secrets between us, my precious Jem. Any battles I wage will be your fight as well. Until then, I must remain silent.”
“At first, I thought the one called Crosby was your favorite, Jemina.” A husky voice startled them from their intimate moment, and Aras turned to find a frizzy-hair woman approaching. “He is the only man of the original competitors unmarked by your sword. Then this last triad came in, and I realized they might hold your heart. None of them need my service. You appear to favor this particular one more than the others.” The healer was frowning toward Aras as she spoke again. “Your fathers might object to his holding your hand.”
Until the strange woman mentioned it, Aras had not even realized he was clutching Jemina’s smaller fingers in his own. Reluctantly he prepared to let it go, but she gripped it tightly. “Dalia, meet Aras, from the village of Konrad. I shared your hobby in breeding hounds with him. He was studying your collection of seed.”
“I noticed. This entire section is devoted to animals genetically bred to be superior trackers. Think of how much easier the life of a warrior could be if dogs carried their supplies, or better yet, pulled provisions and man behind some type of sleigh.”
“The village elders of Urijah sanction your placing yourself in the role of Creator?” He made no effort to hide his abhorrence of this woman’s role. She, like Ulthia, the healer of his own village, had a hidden role as thieves. Jemina sought to soften his rudeness, but he squeezed her hand as a silent warning not to get involved.
“What family unit in Konrad do you come from?” Delia’s eyes narrowed.
“One you have no doubt feared for many cycles now, healer.” Aras held himself tall as he continued, “Remind your friends of the promise made. It is the only thing stopping us from exposing the city’s secrets.”
Unable to contain herself, Jemina spoke, “Dalia is not from the city. Not anymore. She’s been here many generations now. She harbors no city secret. Trust me, she could not speak to the women of the city, even if she chose to, because no woman is allowed outside of our border.”
“I recall one woman traveling freely past your village limits,” Aras replied. “Though I am sure you sought the permission of your elders to do so. There are ways
around such restrictions.” Removing the jar of hound sperm in his hand, Dalia set it back in place before walking away.
“You have insulted her,” Jemina fretted and he pulled her close to console her.
“Where is Smiley’s seed stored on this wall?” he whispered his question.
“Dalia breeds her animals for specific traits. My pet’s imperfections need to be weaned out of future generations according to the healer,” she explained.
Aras could see her confusion. She did not understand how any of this involved the insulting, mysterious words he had just shared with the healer. She already knew too much, and this was not the time, nor place to discuss such sensitive matters. It was wrong to burden Jemina with his knowledge of the city’s secrets. One day, when they were wed, she would need to understand the whole situation. But not now.
“It pleases me to know you accept the Creator’s hounds as they are, extra teeth and all.”
“His looks mean nothing,” Jemina argued. “Look at Crosby. He is easy to look upon, but the most important traits are lacking. His loyalty is questionable if the changing of triads is any indication. As for skill, my loyal pet could track me down and would give his life to protect me if needed. Crosby lacks the necessary skills to protect himself, much less others.”
He could not resist giving her a brief kiss. “You are wise beyond measure. Understand this, dear village bride, some judge creatures by qualities they consider more worthy, inadvertently eliminating things like loyalty or less noticeable qualities. To do so is shortsighted and often leads to unpredictable flaws in future generations. The results cost innocent people their very lives.”
“Explain further,” she demanded.
“In time, my rare Jem.”
10