by Nesa Miller
“Hmmm. Take it off and we’ll fiddle with it.”
Etain held the swords as Linq removed the scabbard. “Perhaps you should let me try it on before you change anything, Inferno. The swords are my responsibility, not Linq’s.”
“Aye, guess I got carried away. Sorry, lass.” She handed the blades over. “I hope it’s not too heavy for ya.” With help from Linq, she donned the apparatus and tightened the leather straps, which left a substantial length dangling underneath each arm. “I can shorten the straps.”
She turned so he could insert the swords. Day Star and Burning Heart slid easily into their scabbards. “They aren’t as heavy as I’d expected,” she said, making her own adjustments. “Can you trim down the metal plate a bit more? It digs into my shoulder blades.”
“Aye. How’s the weight? Does it feel even?”
“Not bad.” She rolled her shoulders. “Take care of the plate, shorten the straps, and I believe it’ll be a perfect fit.”
Linq, more interested in their availability than comfort, told her to draw the swords. She took hold of the hilts, but her movements were awkward, and she had a difficult time drawing both at the same time.
“We can tweak the design,” he said to Inferno. “I think if we set them lower on her back, it will make it easier for her.”
“Adjust the angle, too.” Inferno judged with an expert eye. “Okay, lass. Take it off. One more fitting and we should be finished.”
Late in the afternoon, they were ready for her again. The moment it slipped over her shoulders, she noticed the improvement. “It feels much better.” With the swords tipped at more of an angle, she was better able to grip the hilts and draw the blades. “Perfect!”
“Just a few finishing touches and she'll be sorted.” Inferno helped her out of the scabbard. “While we do this, how about you help Unknown tend to the horses for the trip?”
Her brows lifted. “Unknown?”
“A new recruit,” Inferno said, too busy to look up. “Got him working the stables for now.”
She smiled. It was Inferno’s method of initiation for every “newb” who wanted to join the clan. Depending on how they handled the job and the duties, they were either accepted or rejected. If accepted, Inferno assigned them wherever he saw fit.
“I think I’ll take Razz.” She looked at Linq. “Any preference?”
“Blackjack.”
“Sorted.” She chuckled, heading to the stables. Memories of the last time she walked this way came to mind, which certainly had nothing to do with horses, although Dar had mentioned a late-night ride.
The smell of sweet hay mixed with the tang of manure made her smile. As well as being an initiation, Inferno’s favorite punishment for recalcitrant clan members or children was mucking out the stables, but Etain never saw it as such…a secret she kept to herself. For her, it was an opportunity to escape a confusing world, to try to make sense of things that had happened. In all her musings, she prudently avoided thoughts of her future. For all the love and patience shown her by Inferno and Spirit in the past, the future had remained uncertain, so she had refused to look ahead. Today is all I have, had become her mantra.
But now, her life was not the same.
Blackjack, a large black stallion, whinnied at her entrance. “Prynhawn da, Blackjack,” she greeted, grabbing an apple from a bucket outside his stall. “How are you this fine day?” He snorted before accepting the gift, allowing the human to rub his nose. “Handsome as ever.”
With another apple in hand, she moved to the next stall to greet her favorite, Razz. “Prynhawn da, Razz. How’s my beautiful girl?” The mare nuzzled her hair and snorted, making Etain laugh. “Here. I have a treat for you, too.”
She took her time in brushing each one, all the while chatting in a soft voice, getting familiar with them again. Unknown, a young man of average height with red hair and blue eyes, showed up a short time later and helped her choose a saddle and blanket for each mount. These were set aside, ready for the morning. Together, they fed and watered the horses. Once done, Etain bid the new recruit and the horses a good night.
Back in the kitchen, Spirit and Etain prepared tea for the children. No one mentioned the absence of the men, but the boys squirmed and fidgeted through the entire meal. After an ordeal of overstuffed mouths, spilled milk, and general chaos, Seth and Dylan scampered around the kitchen behind their mother as she prepared food for their da and Linq. With the goodies tucked safely into a large picnic basket, the boys carried it out to the forge, excited to see their da's creation and the famous black swords of their new uncle.
In the house, the girls worked together preparing provisions for Etain’s trip to Deudraeth.
“How long will you be on the road?” Spirit asked, wrapping each sandwich in its own square of plastic and handing over to Molly to place in a bag.
Etain stepped out of the pantry, arms loaded with bottles of water, followed by a helpful Tegan, sweeties in hand. “Linq says if we leave early tomorrow and take short breaks, we can be in Deudraeth by the evening of the following day.”
“It's been a while since you traveled rough. Are you up for such a trip?” Spying her youngest covered in chocolate, Spirit stopped what she was doing and scooped the little girl into her arms. “Ya wee monkey.” She set her on the countertop.
“Ummy, choc-co-wat.” Tegan smacked her lips, giggling as she tried to avoid the wet cloth in her mum’s hand.
“I can understand why yer not using yer shimmer, Etain.” Spirit grabbed at a chocolately hand. “Tegan, lass, you’re surely your father’s child. Give me your hand.” She caught the little culprit with the warm cloth. “Gotcha!” Spirit made a funny face as she wiped the hand clean, making the small girl giggle even more. “Why not use the Hummer and get it over with?” Her exasperation with her daughter faded into laughter. “What am I to do with ya?” She lifted her up, planted a kiss on her chubby cheek, and set her on the floor.
“According to Linq, the back way requires the use of horses.” Etain lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We must be covert.” The girls laughed at their silly auntie. Etain grinned, winking. “Besides, you know if there’s any magic in use, the Hummer will be useless.”
Spirit snorted her opinion. “Yer havin’ a laugh. You may as well ride in on top of a flamin’ pink caravan, neon lights a’flashin’.” She pranced around the kitchen. “Oooo, pay no mind to me. I’m just yer average silver-haired, six-foot Amazon on holiday with me friend…” She put a hand to the side of her mouth, “who just so happens to be an elf.” She stopped in front of the girls. “What? Y’all like me pretty swords?” Spirit pulled the pretend weapons from her back, putting her all into an imitation Texan accent. “Would y’all like me to show ya how they work? Me Krymerian husband showed me the proper way to use ‘em.”
Molly and Tegan giggled at their mum’s silly show, but Etain envisioned the graphic scene. “I hadn't thought of that. I guess I should have a talk with Linq about making a low-key entrance.” Etain wandered out of the kitchen, lost in thought as she walked to her room.
16
To the North
Etain awoke mid-morning. “Damn.” Angry with herself for missing breakfast and sending the children off to school, she dressed and dashed downstairs. Sleeping like I have all day. She hustled into the kitchen to find it empty. Afraid Linq had left without her, she rushed out the back door, hurrying to the forge. As she neared, she could hear voices but didn’t see anyone.
“Hello? Inferno? Linq?” A scruffy-headed Inferno leaned out from behind the forge, which she noticed was not in use today. He clambered to his feet as the elf peered over the top, eyes full of merriment. “What’re y’all up to?” she asked, skeptical of their present mental stability. Linq stood up next to his collaborator. “Where’s Spirit?”
Inferno’s face glowed with a shit-eating grin. “She’s gone to town for a spell and took the wee ones with her. She’ll be back afore ya leave.”
“Why
didn’t someone wake me? You knew I wanted to get an early start.”
“You needed the sleep and we needed the extra time.” Linq damn near giggled.
She looked from one to the other. “Time for what?”
“For this.” Inferno presented her with the new and improved scabbard, complete with twin blades.
“Inferno…,” she whispered, awed by their creation. “Linq...” Inferno held it out to her. “Is this the same piece?” Her fingers caressed the polished surface. “It’s exquisite.”
“Aye. We worked late last night, then got up at dawn. It took a bit of ingenuity to get the insignias right but, bloody hell, we did it.”
“And a fine job we did.”
“Yes. You bloody well did.” She grinned.
The metal plate, buffed to a high shine, curved slightly to match the curve of her shoulders and upper back, its edges rolled to a smooth roundness, and the inside lined with soft leather. Crisscrossed over its face were two black leather sheaths, one raised slightly over the other, so there was no impediment of delivery. Each wide sheath carried its own insignia. Day Star's matched the mark shared by Dar and Etain, the flaming sun. Burning Heart bore the VonNeshta crest, a flame surrounded by a crown of swords. Affixed in the V between the leather sheaths was an emblem she had not seen before…a flaming sun of copper encircled by a gold crown of swords. Her touch lingered on the new family crest.
“Y’all have outdone yourselves with this one.”
“Let’s try it on.” Inferno motioned her to turn as he took the shell from her hands. “Won’t be so great if it doesn’t fit right.”
The metal slid over her back, resting comfortably on her shoulder blades. Black leather straps crossed her chest for a secure fit, the twin scimitars angled just under her line of vision.
Turing to face the men, she grasped each hilt and cleanly drew both blades. After a twirl of each one, she tucked them away. “Thank you so much.”
Inferno shrugged as he rearranged a few tools. “Now that yer the High Lady of Kaos, we can’t have ya running around embarrassing the family with shabby digs. Go get yerself ready. Spirit should be home soon. Said she had something for ya, so don’t leave until she gets here.”
“I’ll saddle the horses, milady,” Linq said, bowing his head. “We can leave upon Spirit’s return.”
“Okay. I can wait.” Etain held back, watching the elf walk toward the stable. “Inferno, I’ve noticed something.”
“Have ya now?”
“Have you had a change of heart about Dar?”
“For that demon?” he blustered, but his features softened. “He’s a good man with good intentions, even though it doesn’t always appear that way. I can see the love between ya and can’t begrudge yer happiness.”
She hugged him, almost giddy. “You’re a king in your own right, Inferno of Laugharne, and I love ya for it.”
“Ah, be off with ya now.” He shooed her to the house. “I love ya, too, lass.”
Spirit, Dylan, and Tegan returned just as Linq brought the horses into the courtyard. Etain, having heard the vehicle pull in, stepped out the front door. Spirit walked straight to her, leaving the task of getting the kids out of the vehicle to her husband. “Come with me,” she said, taking her hand and leading her into the house.
Linq helped Inferno with the children. “What's that all about?”
“Eh, women stuff, I s'pose.”
Shortly after, Etain and Spirit returned. Hugs and farewells exchanged, Etain eased up into the saddle. “We shouldn’t be gone long. We’ll bring the horses back, then I’ll head home with my brother.” She hesitated and looked out beyond the outer wall, feeling as though her heart had stopped. “I doubt Dar will show up before we get back.” With a sigh, her eyes went to Inferno. “If he does…” Razz impatiently stamped her hooves, testing the reins, “tell him I have his blades and to go home. Let him know Linq is with me.” Etain swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “I love y’all. See you soon.”
Not long after Etain and Linq’s departure, a bloody Zorn, led by an equally harrowed Felix, stumbled into the Laugharne courtyard. He collapsed onto the graveled path and closed his eyes, thankful to be home and in one piece. Felix snorted and sat at his side, panting, as the man took slow, deep breaths. Gravel crunching beneath small feet was as welcome a sound as the tiny voices fading as they ran away, yelling for their father. Soon, he heard heavier footsteps and deeper voices.
“Zorn, laddie.” Inferno crouched next to him. “Where ya been, boy? What’s happened?” He looked at his five-year-old son, Dylan. “Boy, go tell yer mum to bring water. Be quick about it.”
“Aye, Da.” Zorn heard the crunch of gravel as Dylan ran off.
Tegan, having come with her brother, wrapped her chubby little arms around Felix’s neck. “Good, Fewix. Good boy.”
Inferno turned an eye on his hound. “Felix, boy, ya look like the back side of a cow.”
Zorn’s dry lips attempted a smile. The sight of Inferno and BadMan, a fellow clansman, made him want to jump up and give each one a kiss. He tried to speak, but only managed a cough.
“Be still, boy,” BadMan ordered. “Water’s comin’.”
At the sight of Spirit, water bottle in hand, BadMan tried to ease Zorn up to a sitting position but stopped at his pain-filled cries. Bloodied mud covered his back. “Fucking hell, Zorn.”
Dylan, close behind and holding a bowl of water for Felix, peeked from behind his mother, unsure whether to carry on or cry at the blood on BadMan’s hands. The dog’s lolling tongue made his decision for him and he toddled a wide, cautious berth around the injured man.
Zorn tried to hold the bottle, but it proved too heavy. Inferno unscrewed the top and put it to his lips. “Take it slow.”
Several sips later, he croaked, “Ta.”
“Let’s get him to the house.” Inferno and BadMan got him to his feet but had to carry him. The gravel beneath where he’d been lying was wet and dark with blood. The men shared an understanding glance. “Kitchen.”
“I’ll stay here with Felix, Da.” Dylan squatted next to the exhausted hound.
“Ta, son. Come get me if anything changes.”
“Sure, Da.”
“Sure, Da,” Tegan echoed.
They lay Zorn face down on the cool granite of the kitchen island. His eyes closed as he breathed in familiar scents of home…the wood fire, the lingering aroma of bacon and fresh coffee, the sharp tang of blood and sweat.
“Ugh, I stink.”
“Bleedin’ hell, boy. Who’s done this to ya?”
Bleary blue eyes squinted. “Ruby,” he whispered before he passed out.
“Someone get Swee,” Inferno hollered, turning to his wife. “Love, do ya know where the girl is?”
“I’m here,” Swee said from the doorway, pushing up her sleeves, heading toward the sink. “What’s happened to him?” she asked over her shoulder, washing her hands.
“He stumbled in a few minutes ago. He didn’t say much,” BadMan said.
“I need a good look at the wound.”
Inferno grabbed the tattered ends of the shirt and made short work of removing the filthy rag. Zorn’s body jerked in reaction, but the young man did not wake. Swee bit her bottom lip at the bloody gash from his right shoulder to left hip. “Sweet goddess of us all,” she muttered. “I’m going to need your help, Spirit. Yours, too,” she said to the men.
Spirit filled a large pot with water and set it on the stove to heat. “There’s herbs in me room that will help with the healing. I’ll grab sheets and towels on the way.” Spirit sped out of the kitchen.
“I’ll need a needle and something for sutures, too,” Swee yelled after her.
“Can ya handle this without me, lass?” Inferno asked.
“As long as BadMan stays.” She set to washing away the dirt and blood from the outer areas of Zorn’s back. “Go check on your hound, Inferno,” she said. “Your man is in good hands.”
Inferno knelt between
his children, his eyes on the wolfhound. “Now then, boy. Let’s have a look at ya.” Felix whimpered as his master began a careful inspection, checking eyes, teeth, and ears.
“Fewix is sad, Da,” Tegan said, her tiny brows knit together.
“Aye. He’s had a rough few days, mi cariad. Come on, boy. On yer feet.” Inferno urged the dog up. Felix licked his master’s face as experienced hands ran along his backbone, over his hindquarters, down each leg. “No broken bones.”
“He’s bleeding, Da.” Dylan pointed to Felix’s head and chest.
“The blood on his head isn’t his,” he said, prodding through the matted fur. He found the flesh intact, but the same exploration of chest and belly produced a high-pitched yelp. “Easy, boy,” Inferno cooed. “Fachgen da. Byddwn yn mynd â chi sefydlog i fyny (Good boy. We’ll get you fixed up).”
Tegan’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes bright with tears. “Poor Fewix.”
She reached out to touch him, but her father caught her hand. “Leave him be for now, merch fach yn.” Instead, she patted her da on the shoulder and slipped a thumb into her mouth.
Inferno located several gashes, the blood now clotted or dried. “Easy, boy. That’s a good boy.” He patted Felix on the head and looked at his son. “Where’s the red wagon?”
“I think it’s down at the stables,” Dylan answered. “Can I pet him, Da?”
“Aye. Gently, on his neck. It’ll help settle him.” Dylan placed a soft hand on the dog’s head. Tegan, thumb firmly set in her mouth, reached out with the other hand and tenderly stroked Felix’s neck.
“Go get the wagon, Dylan.”
“Aye, Da.” The little boy scrambled to his feet and disappeared toward the stables.
Tegan’s thumb came out of her mouth with an audible pop. “Is Fewix gonna wide in da wagon?”
Inferno chuckled and hugged her to him. “Aren’t ya the smart girlie? Aye. He needs doctoring, and he’s too big to carry.”
She nodded, continuing to stroke the black fur. “Fewix a big boy.”