by Kal Spriggs
Seraphai drew a breath to politely tell her no... yet the open look in her eyes, the fragile nature of the other woman's smile, made her reconsider. No doubt she thought her offer would give Seraphai the opportunity to benefit from Tirianis's healing abilities. As if she could help me, Seraphai thought. Still, it was kindly meant, and she didn't want to give the other woman further offense. Besides, I have lived isolated for too long, I need to hear more voices than those of memory and bitterness,she thought. “Certainly,” Seraphai said. “Tea sounds lovely.”
***
Aerion
The Tucola Forest, Zielona Gora Barony, Duchy of Masov
Twentieth of Eoban, Cycle 999 Post Sundering
Aerion started as someone clapped him on the back. He glanced over to find Quinn. The stocky former printer's apprentice gave him a grin, “Morning Aerion, you looked like you could used some company. You alright?”
Aerion sighed. He wanted nothing better than to talk over Aramer's revelation with someone... yet the other man had cautioned him against that. He finally spoke, “Just thinking, I guess.” He looked over at Quinn's companion, “Good morning, I'm Aerion.”
The other man was big, taller even than Aerion and broader of shoulder. He had a strong jaw and when he spoke, he seemed to pick his words with care, “Good morning to you. I'm Josef.” His voice was deep, yet there was a softness to it, one that made Josef sound sincere. Despite his size, he didn't look much older than Aerion or Quinn, probably not much more than ten cycles, if that.
“Josef just showed up yesterday,” Quinn said, “Gerlin's patrol found, him.”
Josef nodded, “I'm not familiar with a forest like this. Trees are thicker here than in the north.” He smiled, “I was as lost as I've ever been.”
Aerion smiled in return. The big man had an infectious smile. “Yeah, it's easy enough to lose your way if you're not careful,” Aerion said.
“Aerion here seems to find his way as if it's his home,” Quinn said. He shook his head, “He's too darned good at everything, if you ask me.”
Aerion flushed, “Sorry, I just try as hard as I can.”
“Well,” Quinn grimaced, “it's a little frustrating sometimes, sorry. I shouldn't complain, you saved my life back in that attack.” He sighed, “Which puts me in your debt. Jasen has me showing Josef around, I just figured I'd introduce you.”
Aerion nodded, “Good meeting you Josef.”
“You too,” Josef said. “Oh, the halfblood, Gerlin, he asked me to tell you that he wanted to talk with you. Not right now, but later tonight, I think he said something about sparring.”
Aerion nodded, “Thanks.” He watched the two of them walk away and part of him wanted to follow. Yet he hesitated, uncertain what he would say. He felt so awkward, which made him even more close-mouthed than usual.
“Making friends?” Lady Katarina said from behind him.
“My Lady?” Aerion turned, surprised.
She gave him a warm smile, “Sorry, I overheard some of that, but I didn't mean to eavesdrop.” She chuckled, “Not that there's any eaves to hide under, not in our little forest paradise.”
Aerion snorted. Their ravine camp had several caves and even a few lean-to's, but it was still basic. Aramer, in his guise as Arren, had spoken of buying canvas to make tents, but the increased patrols from Lord Hector's mercenaries had made that too dangerous to attempt at the moment. “At least we're keeping everyone sanitary, other than Agram.” The hunchback's smell had become a bit too much, finally, and Jasen and a couple others had tried to drag him to the creek where most of them bathed. One of the men had lost a couple teeth, Jasen still sported a black eye and Agram had taken to avoiding the camp over the past few days.
Katarina grimaced at the reminder. “Yes, true. Though cold baths is good enough now, I'd kill for a warm bath, maybe a massage, and a comfortable warm robe.”
Aerion flushed, “I, uh, wouldn't know anything about that.” He had a sudden mental image of her naked in a bath tub and he felt his face grow hot with embarrassment.
Katarina laughed, “Of course not. Sorry, just complaining a bit.” She cocked her head, “I find it easy to talk with you, Aerion, I hope that doesn't bother you.”
“Of course not, my Lady,” Aerion said. He felt even more awkward than when he'd spoken with Josef and Quinn. “I just, well, I'm not very good at talking with people.” He had never had friends, had never belonged to any group. He had his mother, who'd taught him to read and write and told him of other lands. He had Taggart, who taught him to work and care for the forge. Aerion realized that he really had never had any friends, not as a child and not now.
“Well, you can practice with me,” Katarina said. She leaned in close, “To tell the truth, I'm half afraid that Yarris Ingolsby will see me by myself and corner me for another interview.”
Aerion paled at the reminder of Yarris... who was actually Aramer. He felt a sweat break out on his forehead. Could I manage to lie to Lady Katarina, he wondered, if she suspects anything about him...
“Sorry, did that bastard corner you and grill you about your village?” Katarina demanded. Her face had gone angry and her blue eyes practically sparked with anger. “I've warned him about being too intrusive...”
“No!” Aerion said. “I really haven't talked to Yarris,” he said, somewhat weakly. It was a terrible lie, he knew, but it was also, sort of true. He hadn't talked to Yarris, he'd talked with Aramer, who was Yarris and Arren and a half dozen others who he hadn't met. Aerion's head ached suddenly.
Katarina glared at him, “Well, if he pesters you, let me know.” He could tell she was suspicious and almost even protective. Which confused him. Why would she be protective of him? “Understood?”
“Uh, yes, my Lady,” Aerion said, still flustered from having to lie to her.
“Good,” Katarina said. She frowned, “Did I hear right that you've taken to sparring with Gerlin?”
Aerion nodded, “Yes, and Bulmor too, now and again.” Also with Aramer, now and again at his hidden grove, but he couldn't talk about that. “They both seem like teaching me moves to use against the other. I think it's some kind of competition.”
Katarina grinned, “That sounds like them.” She shook her head, “Honestly, I can't think of two better protectors for me to have had. I'm glad they've taken you under their wing.” She cocked an eyebrow, “Say, I don't suppose you'd care to practice a bit with me?”
Aerion flushed, “I don't know if that's a good idea, my Lady.” He didn't know how to say it, but while he knew she had cycles of experience on him, he had far more muscle than her... and he didn't dare to hurt her.
“Oh, it'll be fun,” Katarina said. “And if you're worried, I'll have Bulmor there to keep an eye on things to make certain it doesn't get out of hand. Arren too, I'm sure he'd like to see how you've improved. Maybe even Yarris, he's mentioned he'd like to see me fight, so he could write it up in one of his stories.”
Aerion coughed, “Uh, yeah, he might.” He tried not to think of the impossibility of Yarris and Arren being in the same place at the same time.
“Good, then I'll meet you after lunch, over at the training area,” Katarina said.
Aerion floundered, unable to find the right words to say what a bad idea this looked to be. Before he could even open his mouth, she gave him a nod and turned away
***
Lady Katarina Emberhill
Katarina stretched a bit as Bulmor stood by, a disapproving look on his face.
Katarina sighed, “What?”
“Boy's strong,” Bulmor grunted, “And not experienced enough to pull a blow.”
“He won't hurt me,” Katarina said with absolute confidence. She didn't know why she felt so confident, but she did. Perhaps it was the awkwardness Aerion showed in social interactions or the enthusiastic fashion that he applied himself to any task. He reminded her more and more of Jarek, from her childhood. In a way, this match was a reversal of her last encounter with Jarek, when he'd tr
ied to teach her how to fight.
Bulmor just grunted.
A few minutes later, Aerion arrived, accompanied by Arren. The boy gave an odd look at the old man as they came up, almost a look of distrust. I wonder what that is about, she thought. Aerion took up one of the practice wooden blades from the pile, then turned and gave Bulmor a nod. “I, uh, am not certain this is a good idea, my Lady.” His words seemed more addressed to Bulmor than Katarina.
“It's a terrible idea, in more ways than one,” Bulmor grunted under his breath, just loud enough that Katarina could hear him behind her.
“I thought you wanted to prove yourself, Aerion?” Katarina said and put just a slight mocking edge into her voice. She wasn't certain why she wanted to goad him, but she felt like she wanted to see what he was capable of.
He sighed, but he gave her a nod. She saw him give one more uncertain glance at Bulmor before he stepped into the cleared area the others used for training. Jasen and his fighters had gone, which meant the four of them had the whole area to themselves.
“Ready?” Katarina asked. Her voice almost seemed to hang on the air. She felt her heart begin to race a bit as Aerion stepped forward with a nod. This will be fun, she thought.
Aerion had pulled a wooden practice shield on his right arm and he cautiously came forward with his sword in his left hand. Katarina grinned, unlike most people, she had experience fighting left handed opponents. Her cousins were both left handed, back in Marovingia and they'd had no compunctions about sparring with her. Since they both served in the Marovingian Legion, that meant they had a wealth of experience and no compunctions about using enough force to train her well.
Katarina waited as Aerion came slowly forward. She could see the uncertainty on his face, he didn't want to hurt her. On the one hand, she respected that. He was loyal to her, loyal to their cause. On the other hand, it frustrated her that he saw her as either too weak to defend herself or so fragile that she couldn't fight. Either way, she decided she'd teach him a bit of a lesson.
Aerion paused, just outside of arm's reach. He hesitated, unwilling or unable to attack her. As he stood there, Katarina stepped forward in a fencing lunge that caught him in the sternum. He stumbled back with a gasp as the air exploded out of his lungs. Katarina stepped back and waited. She heard Arren chuckle a bit, though she could feel Bulmor's disapproving glare on the back of her neck.
Aerion's face turned purple as he struggled to get air despite his paralyzed diaphragm. He collapsed to his knees and dropped both sword and shield. After a minute or so he managed to take a few cautious breaths. He pushed himself back to his feet. “Well fought,” Aerion said.
“I'm not done yet,” Katarina said. “Bulmor and Gerlin have said you're a quick learner. Jasen says he'd like to have you as one of his fighters. Let's see some of that, shall we?”
He grimaced and rubbed his sternum. “My Lady...”
“You're mistaken if you thought that was a request,” Katarina said, her voice cold. She wanted Aerion to take her seriously. She was strong and capable and she would prove that to him, even if she had to beat it into his thick skull.
Aerion gave her a nod, though his face looked more resigned than determined. He picked up both his practice sword and shield. “I'm ready.”
“Good,” Katarina said. She stepped back into a defensive stance, “Come at me.”
He came in, still hesitant, but from as much a desire to protect himself as to avoid harming her, at least. Still, that didn't satisfy her. I want him to really try, she thought.
He swung at her, a sharp blow, but one that lacked his full strength. She blocked it easily. He swung again, with a bit more force. She blocked again. His third swing had a bit more strength behind it.
Katarina stepped into the blow and caught it on her own wooden sword. She hooked her leg behind his and pushed. Aerion gave a yelp as he toppled backwards. Katarina didn't give him a moment to recover. She thrust down at his chest with her blade and he barely blocked the attack with his shield.
Katarina stepped back, “That's rather disappointing, Aerion. I thought you wanted to be a soldier, a fighter?” She saw anger smolder in his single blue eye as he rolled to his feet. He shrugged his shoulders and a grim resolve settled over his face. “Good, that's more like it. Stop playing around and fight me.”
He settled into an attack stance and came in again. This time he swung quick, powerful strikes and Katarina recognized Bulmor's teaching. She blocked his initial attacks, then shifted to the offense herself. She swung her own lighter blade in a series of fast swings, designed to harry him. He shifted over into a defense that Gerlin favored, one which kept his blade close in to his body, quicker to parry and harder to get around.
He caught her blade, extended, and then shifted over to a different method of attack and this time he pressed her, with broad, powerful swings that made her arm ache to defend against. Katarina didn't recognize the style, but she saw it left him exposed. She could have responded with any of a dozen counters, but those would be tricks, rather than meeting him on his own level. Katarina ducked under one of his swings and lunged, back into the Marovingian duelist style she'd learned from her uncle and cousins. Aerion grunted as her thrust knocked the air out of his lungs again. She didn't wait for him to recover, though, she swung a sharp attack at his arm and knocked the sword out of his hand, and brought the blade around in another attack, this one at his head. She barely managed to pull the blow at the last moment, but her practice blade still struck Aerion in the side of the head with a sharp crack that echoed across the clearing.
He toppled like a felled tree.
“Kingslayer!” Katarina winced. “Aerion are you alright?” He lay there on his back, his one eye closed. She heard Bulmor curse behind her. She knelt over Aerion and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Aerion?”
His eye opened and for a moment, their gazes met. He grinned somewhat groggily at her, “That was well fought, my Lady.” He seemed to have difficulty focusing.
“You stupid lummox, take me more seriously next time,” Katarina said. Yet she felt relief as he sat up. He paused, his face only a few inches away from hers. Katarina felt some emotion stir inside her as the fear and anger subsided replaced by something else. She started to lean closer to him when she heard Bulmor clear his throat behind her.
Katarina stood up, so quickly that she felt her head spin. Definitely from the exertion and then standing so quickly, she thought, not from anything else. “Thank you for the sparring match, Aerion. You're definitely improving.”
She heard Arren chuckle and when she looked up he wore a knowing smile on his face, just barely visible through his long gray beard. It made her flush, suddenly, and she angrily snapped, “Would you care to go a round?”
“No, my Lady, I'll leave that for younger men,” Arren Smith said, his wavering voice held an edge of humor.
Before Katarina could come up to a response, Bulmor came up and helped Aerion to his feet. The younger man still looked confused. He had a long red welt along the side of his head.
Bulmor grunted, “Arren, you'd better get young Aerion here back to the camp. I think he's concussed.”
“Of course,” Arren said. “I'd say concussed or a bit befuddled,” his smirk set Katarina's teeth on edge. Thankfully the old man helped Aerion walk away without further interjections.
Katarina turned to face Bulmor's disapproving stare. “What?”
“Was that really necessary?” Bulmor asked. His tone suggested it was more of a statement than a question.
“Aerion needs to take me seriously,” Katarina said, sharply. “Half of our recruits are afraid I'll break like glass if someone so much as looks at me harshly. I want to establish now that I'm capable of defending myself.”
“That's all that was?” Bulmor asked.
Katarina frowned. She thought of the moment when Aerion had sat up, his face only inches away from her own. She thought of the panic she'd felt when she thought she had killed him. For
a moment, she revisited the feelings that had gone through her. No, I can't afford those kinds of feelings, she thought, they were just a reaction to the fight, nothing more. “It was just that, nothing more,” Katarina said. “Aerion's got a thick skull, at least.” Bulmor just grunted.
As she walked away, she barely heard him sigh and mutter, “Not his head I'm worried about.”
***
Lady Katarina Emberhill
The Tucola Forest, Zielona Gora Barony, Duchy of Masov
Twenty-Fifth of Eoban, Cycle 999 Post Sundering
Katarina looked around the small group gathered around the map and gave a slight nod. “Gerlin, do you want to start?”
The halfblood nodded wearily. His leather jerkin still stained from his latest scouting mission, he stood with hunched shoulders and leaned on the table for support. When he marshaled enough energy to speak, even his voice carried a tone of exhaustion. “The patrols sweeping the forest have... escalated. Hectors mercenaries have begun a sweep from the north, at least a dozen patrols, each with twenty to thirty men.”
Katarina looked around at the group, watched shock appear on their faces. None of them had expected such a response, yet Katarina blamed herself for that. She should have expected something like this.
“It gets worse,” Gerlin continued, “Each patrol remains in contact with the others. Even if we could take on one patrol, the others will pile in on us before we could make our escape, not with as few horses as we have.”
“If they're pushing from the north, why don't we just move south?” Aerion asked.
“Because that's what they want us to do,” Arren said. “Back when I rode as a scout for the Duchy of Boir on the border of Taral, we used the same tactics to herd Noric raiders into ambushes.” Aerion shot the old man a strange look, mingled suspicion with consternation, one that Katarina did not understand. The two had seemed close until recently, a change which confused Katarina.