by Bryn Colvin
“Now you’ll have to stay.”
“I know.”
Stretching and feeling the brush of tiny plant fronds against her thighs and back, Liss realised she was glad. It gave her a reason to be with him, a reason for staying and something that might help her to find a future. A sharp pain made her jump. Looking down she saw a couple of lizards on her calf. She brushed one away before it could sink its fangs in and reached for her knife. She had never lost the habit of making sure she could find her weapons at any time. By the time she had killed the vicious little reptile, another had arrived to join it. Dothrin had risen and was dressing hurriedly.
“Looks like we’ve disturbed them,” he said.
Liss laughed and flicked one from her arm. They were persistent, she had to give them that, but clearly not too bright. She supposed that venom would work well enough on little mammals and small birds, but on someone of her size, it was futile. Still, there was something about encountering them in numbers that made her ill at ease. She supposed a very large swarm of them probably could kill a person.
“I think we’d best go back. I don’t fancy sleeping with these little beasts,” Dothrin commented.
Liss moved away from the lizards, watching them retreat from their own dead.
“Let’s go back,” she said.
~*~
The night watch had proved uneventful, with nothing to disturb the camp beyond a few wandering night creatures who came to search for scraps. Liss waited for Dothrin as he woke Night and Summer for their turn on the perimeters. Slipping their arms around each other’s waists, they crept amongst the shabby, makeshift shelters towards their own small tent.
“I’ve been thinking,” Liss said, “and there’s something I want you to have.”
She retrieved a long bundle from the place she had stashed it along the back wall of their shelter. Taking a deep breath, she passed it to Dothrin. From the weight of the item, he guessed at once what it must be.
“I cannot accept this.”
“It should be yours and I think he would have approved. He never liked women fighting when they were with child, not if it could be helped. Weapons like this are rare and a blade like this will help you win fame and status. A sword is a thing of power and a blade like this one doubly so.”
“Are you certain?”
She laughed.
“If it helps, the weight isn’t right for me, it doesn’t sit well in my hand. You are more my father’s size, it would be better for you.”
Dothrin unbound the weapon that Math had carried for so many years. Its polished blade seemed almost to glow in the faint light from the little moon high above them. The greater moon had sunk below the horizon before the first watch was out. He hefted the sword carefully, testing the weight of it and seeing how it moved. The sheer killing power in it was a tangible force, its sharpness continually thirsty for blood. He knew that with this, he would be a hard man to match in any fight.
“Thank you,” he said, addressing the absent father almost as much as the daughter who had gifted this to him.
Liss sighed deeply, feeling a relief that her father’s sword was no longer her responsibility. She had been forced to abandon his bow, finding that she could not carry both and, without the skill to make fresh arrows, the short bow was the less useful. It had pained her to part with it, but she had left it in the nook of a tree, hoping that it might be found by one who would appreciate the workmanship that had fashioned it. Dothrin would take good care of her father’s sword and carve his own reputation with it.
With considerable care, Dothrin wrapped the sword in its bindings. The dawn’s light was slowly encroaching through the trees, outshining the pale gleam of the larger moon above them. Liss watched the changing pattern of shadows on her lover’s face. She kissed him, holding the wrist that held the sword.
End