D & D - Tale of the Comet
Page 31
The last of the Rael survivors had been escorted through the gate two nights before the wedding. The escort had been the companions, and a half-score of armed men and women, some from the garrison, some from the watch.
Indeed there were golems in the sky, and some of them served an evil master. Others served races of noble warriors like the Rael. __
The Rael rewarded those who fought on their side, and the companions so long gone had fought so valiantly that they had been rewarded by being returned to the world as guardians of
the peace between Rael and human. The Rael would know how the Guardians were treated, and judge the human race by that treatment.
The Rael might not return for many years, but they would be watching, and the guardians were bound to their service for the rest of their lives. Those who were wise in their dealings with the guardians might reap rich rewards or great honor, and those who were foolish might face punishment.
"This very nearly puts us in the position of monks," Elda said, the first time she heard the proposed tale. "I hope we are not going to be sworn to chastity, poverty, and obedience."
"You would be foresworn at once if we were," Brinus said blithely. The old rivalry between the siblings had not changed, at least.
So the companions gathered from time to time in their house, and this night they had just finished a meal of herb-flavored gruel, fresh bread, and mild ale. Jazra excused herself, to change clothes she said, and Fedor Ohlt leaned back in his chair. The frugal meal had contented him, and so did the fact that Elda would from time to time gently brush a hand across his shoulder, but no more.
They were not lovers. They might never be lovers. Indeed, at times it seemed that all of the companions might have been siblings, born at a single birth. Even Chakfor Stonebreaker, now learning Rael metalworking under Gregis's tutelage, so far away that light from the sun the dwarf saw in the day would take three hundred years to reach the eyes of his friends' remote descendants.
There was indeed one sad truth in the tale put about: the Rael might not be returning for years. How to deal with the humans was not a question that the Rael would be able to settle quickly. Among those who doubted magic, feared it, or believed that the companions had taught everything there was to know about it, there might be strong opposition to adding the uncertainties of contact with the humans to the burden of the war against the Overseer.
That there was as much hope as there was, they owed to Jazra's returning with the five remaining companions.
"An honor I owe to you, and particularly Chakfor," she had said. "Also," and then she had looked like a schoolgirl after a successful practical joke, "I am supposed to be a hero. They will not leave a hero marooned on a barbarian planet for too many years."
As if his thoughts had called her, Jazra reappeared. For the first time, she wore the attire of a human woman, a long-sleeved, wine-colored gown that left her shoulders covered only by something translucent, and soft red boots. She also wore earrings, and a bracelet on her left wrist.
"Very fine," Brinus said. "But Jazra, you deserve a trifle of warning. That sort of garb is worn most often by women who frequent the higher-class inns, seeking trade."
"Oh? What sort of—?" Jazra broke off, and she turned toward Elda. "Elda, is the trade your brother speaks of, the one I think?"
"It is lawful, and even honored in many lands," Elda said, so primly that everybody laughed.
Then Hellandros rose, kissed M'lenda on the forehead, and, pretending to be unable to reach higher, kissed Jazra on the shoulder. She launched a slap that would have sprained his neck if it had landed, but he ducked under it, nearly fell over a chair, and finally had to lean against the table until a stitch in his side passed off.
Jazra laughed one final time. "As long as we agree this is no inn, I am going to wear the gown. But Elda, how do women in 'trade' keep from freezing to death, so clad?"
"A man can give many things," Elda said softly. "Warmth among them."
The horses tethered at the edge of the grove whickered softly, whether from the cold or from boredom. It had begun to snow, and now there was a finger's-length of new fall to muffle
Fedor Ohlt's footsteps as he slipped up behind Elda, and put his arms around her.
She did not say a word. She merely sighed, and moved so that his hands touched a part of her he would not have dared touch without permission.
"I am not ready to wed," she said softly. "Least of all to a man who has the right to a fidelity I could not hope to give." Feeling something change in Ohlt's grasp, she added, "Not now, at least."
"We have time," Ohlt said. "We bought it ourselves, and too many friends paid for it with blood. I am not ready to wed either. I would ask that my wife become what 1 have lost, not remain what she is. You would not forgive that, or even endure it for long."
"But we can put some of that time to good use," Elda said, almost whispering. She turned, and his arms were around her as his lips sought hers.
The horses whickered again. It would be a long, cold ride back through the fresh snow to Aston Point.
But there would be the warmth of man and woman waiting at the end of it.
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