A Question of Counsel

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A Question of Counsel Page 9

by Archer Kay Leah


  "Ha, funny. Always so funny." Allon grunted. "I'm not going to run away, you mindless idiots. Give a man a chair!" He ducked when one of the guards raised a fist. The other guard kicked over the chair. Allon snickered and pulled the chair upright before falling into it. "Have to do everything myself."

  Aeley stood behind the empty chair, gripping the bar across its back instead of her knife. Lira shifted in her seat, pushing away from the table.

  The movement caught Allon's attention. "What's this? An offering? A bribe? It seems like it's been so long since I had one of you." He reached for Lira.

  One of the guards slammed Allon's hand down, pinning his wrist to the table.

  "I wasn't going to touch her, grunt!" Allon yelled. He tugged back, struggling to get free. When he yanked harder, the guard let go and laughed. Allon teetered in the chair, almost falling over. "Would you quit it? The Council said to make me work off my punishment, not dismember me!"

  "Same thing," one guard said to the other, making both of them laugh harder.

  "Please tell me you brought her to make this meeting easier on me." Allon stared at Lira. "You were even at my hearing. I remember you now, hiding behind my sister." He looked up at Aeley, a smile creeping across his lips. "Is there something you'd like to tell me? Have you finally found someone who can stand your uppity sense of justice? Maybe someone to tickle the part of you that you just don't use? You know, the part of you guys would pay a fortune to see since you keep it locked away and rusting. The part that makes you such a—"

  Both guards slapped the back of Allon's head. He leaned forward, his forehead almost hitting the table. "And apparently this is less of a family reunion and more of a beating." Allon drew his hands into his lap. "What do you want?"

  "I want to know what you've been up to." Aeley lifted her chin. "Have you been abiding by the laws around your punishment?"

  "If by 'punishment', you mean lifelong torture without pay or rights while wasting away, and by 'abiding', you mean breaking some bones and making other people wealthy, then yeah, guess I have." Allon held up his hands, palms up. The bandages were soiled with dirt and blood. "Would you like to peek at the holes in my hands? I think I saved you some pus—" He ducked, anticipating a slap. When the guards did not react, Aeley saw disappointment flash across his face.

  When his green eyes flicked towards Lira, he brightened. "Maybe you'd like to take a look? You seem nice. Quiet. Not likely to beat a man to death. Tell me if I should be getting a second opinion about these."

  Aeley dug her heel into the floor. She watched Lira restrain herself, the muscles in her neck tense, her chin still raised.

  "We don't care," Aeley said. "What we do care about is if you've had any contact with anyone. Been doing anything."

  "Why?" Allon asked. "Has someone been having a party without me?"

  "Someone's been causing trouble. Doing things you would do. Doing things you've done. Except you're here." Aeley crossed her arms. "What I want to know is if you've had friends come by and ask for ideas?"

  Allon huffed and pursed his lips, mocking her as he pretended to think. "Now, I'm not too sure—head's been knocked around a little too much, you know—but I remember a few people gracing me with their presence before I got locked in here permanently. But wouldn't you know: I just can't seem to remember any names. Funny, isn't it? Throw a man away and his memory just goes." He whistled and waved his hand towards the open door.

  "Allon, stop being stupid. Names!" Aeley demanded and slapped the table.

  "I'd love to, Ae, really, but they wouldn't help." Allon smacked his lips and leaned to the side, staring at Lira. "They weren't here for plans. They were offering condolences and trying to get me out. A couple thought they'd buy my way out, but you know, I just couldn't let them. I convinced them to save their wealth for what was more important. Nice guys, though. People I'm happy to call friends. They understand the value of loyalty."

  If she did not know better, she would have thought he was speaking directly to Lira. Except they had never met—Lira had said as much. Allon was just trying to change the subject.

  "What are you saying? That you don't know anyone who'd be attacking villages? That no one's decided to take on where you left off—maybe as revenge?"

  Allon straightened, his expression blank. "I'm saying I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't done a thing other than haul rocks and bust ribs. I don't have time to think about what's going on in your perfect little world when I need to focus on surviving. In case you didn't notice, people don't like me. So when I've got a couple dozen guys who'd love to kill me, it's kind of difficult to coordinate measly attacks on villages that aren't worth my piss."

  "So, it isn't you?"

  "It isn't me. Whatever's going on, you're wasting time. What would Father say?"

  Inhaling as she rocked on her heel, Aeley bit her tongue.

  "You know what he would say?" Allon continued. "He'd tell you you're in over your head. He'd say you need help from someone who knows what to do."

  "You don't know what he'd say. You never paid attention," Aeley spat out.

  "So you say. I paid attention to the important things, to the important people. If you weren't so concerned with me, you'd have done the same by now."

  "I don't have time for this." Aeley tapped Lira's shoulder. They would not stay.

  When Lira followed Aeley towards the door, Allon shouted at them. "You're an absolute idiot if you don't think about it. Your face says you're in trouble. The fact you're here says you don't know what you're doing."

  Aeley stepped into the threshold, sliding a hand across Lira's back and guiding her into the hall.

  "Maybe you should go ask your potential husbands for their help," he suggested.

  A chill raced through Aeley. "How do you know about it?" she demanded, turning to see Allon's shrug.

  "People talk. Councilmen when they're waiting for a hearing to start. Noble families coming to see loved ones—at least, the ones they think are being saved by the justice system." Allon looked at the ceiling. "Our father—our sweet, loving, caring father who doted on you and indulged everything you ever wanted—has made you consider marriage to a family you know nothing about. Good thing for you I know something. Like the fact they've never stopped thinking like Stewards."

  He pointed at Aeley, but stretched his body as if trying to see Lira standing in the hall. "If you're stuck, why don't you run to them? More resources, more people, more of everything. Considering you didn't get anything else from me, you should take it. Might go a long way for your marriage." He smiled. "And you'll have to forgive me, but I'll miss whatever dismal wedding you plan. Send me a note, though, and I'll try and remember to send you a gift. Probably something covered in my own blood, just for luck."

  Allon laughed, and the sound echoed off the walls. Saying nothing, Aeley spun on her heel and walked away.

  Chapter Four

  "So that was a lovely reunion."

  Aeley opened one eye to peer at Lira, still lying on the seat across from her. She pulled herself forward from the corner of the carriage. "Wasn't it, though? Almost went as expected."

  "Almost?" Lira sat up and reached for Aeley's knee, her light touch making Aeley flinch. "Expecting a confession, weren't you?"

  "No. The fact he knows about the marriage contract is interesting, though. I'm also surprised he'd even suggest something so helpful."

  "Maybe punishment's been good for him."

  "Or not. I don't see the quarry making him any wiser, just stronger." The carriage stopped and Aeley pushed open the door. "Hopefully Mayr's found something." She jumped from the carriage and stared up the stairs to the door of the estate, relieved to be home. The trip home from the quarry had felt longer than the ride there.

  Lira stepped down from the carriage. "If he hasn't?"

  "We'll have to rethink everything." Aeley took Lira's hand and pulled her up the stairs. The doors opened as they ascended the last few steps. Haydin's famil
iar face eased Aeley's irritation.

  "How did it go?" he asked, ushering them inside before closing the door. "Was he any help?"

  "He says he has nothing to do with it." Aeley peered up the main staircase and around the corners. "Is Mayr here? Do we know if he's discovered anything?"

  Haydin shook his head, his gaze falling to the floor.

  "Well." Aeley sighed. She could wait to hear his report. Enough of people. I just want to do nothing right now. Well, almost nothing, she corrected. With Lira, there was more than one way to spend the time before dinner. Staring down the corridor, Aeley wondered if they could continue where they had left off before the assault on the road.

  The assault. She tensed, her back muscles pulling as she straightened and flexed her free hand. The village had been attacked, too; the same village Lira visited regularly. Without answers, the situation remained dangerous. While Allon claimed he knew nothing, nothing in her believed him.

  He was much too pleased with her. Looked at her like he'd jump on her. He's not telling the truth, I know he isn't, but I can't figure out which part he's lying about. And now that he's seen her...

  With a tug, she pulled Lira into the corridor.

  Lira followed without protest. "Where are we going?"

  "No one's here to bother us. Perfect time to teach you a few things about defending yourself."

  "Defending myself? Why?"

  Aeley stopped in the middle of the corridor. "Because Allon can't be trusted. And whoever's responsible for the attacks are too unpredictable." She turned to the darkened hallway behind Lira, imagining the route they would take down the stairs and through the halls to the armoury. "You need to know how to do something in case they come after you. Using a quill won't do any good."

  "I'd say I can take care of myself, but is there any point in arguing?"

  "No. Especially since I’ve seen how you are with your brothers."

  "That’s a low strike," Lira grumbled.

  "Not from what I’ve seen."

  Lira sucked in a breath, then nudged Aeley. "Go on, then. I'll let you have your way."

  How's that any different than usual? Aeley pulled Lira towards the downwards staircase. The hall below was dimly lit, but Aeley knew she could maneuver the hall with her eyes closed. Father always said I spent too much time down here.

  They turned another corner and she stopped in the first open doorway. Metal blades in the large, windowless room reflected the light from the hall. Chains and ropes hung on the wall, looped around pegs. Wooden racks held up swords and axes, and in between, shields stood upright in thick, slotted blocks. Quivers filled with arrows leaned against the corners and above them hung bows. Standing before the wall on the other side of the room were tall, wooden targets, painted with black circles and marred with deep marks.

  She led Lira towards the middle of the room, her gaze going to the knives on a long table cluttered with dismantled arrow shafts and polishing rags. Perfect. We'll start with those.

  "Why don't you stand right there?" Aeley pointed to the other side of the table. She snatched up three of the six knives and weighed them in her hand. They were worn and nicked from frequent use, requiring cleaning and sharpening, but their blades were heavy and strong. Abandoned by a guard after training, she guessed. But as long as they end up in the target and not in me, they'll suffice.

  Walking around the table, she stopped at Lira's side and pointed at one target. "Ready to throw something?"

  "You're going to give me a sharp weapon?" Lira eyed the blades. "Are you sure you don't want armour—breastplate, maybe? Something to keep your eyes in your head?"

  "It won't be that bad." Aeley raised one knife. "This goes into your hand and then goes that way. Couldn't be simpler."

  "You didn't see what happened the last time my father made me hold a sword. A complete disaster."

  "Someone lost an arm?"

  "No, but close."

  "A toe?"

  Lira tilted her head. "Let's just say I'm not allowed to touch anything sharper than a dining knife."

  "And that's probably because you're supervised," Aeley joked and laughed. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand. It would have been easier to stop laughing if Lira's cynical expression did not make the situation more amusing. "This won't be anything like that, I promise. I learned when I was five years old. It's the first weapon I ever learned to use and you can do it, too. It's simple. It's small. Anyone can carry a knife, especially one good enough to throw from enough of a distance, so you can run away." She shrugged. "And if we can at least get you to stand right here, maybe I'll teach you some other things."

  She raised the knife higher. Lira flinched.

  "You really are afraid of it, aren’t you?" Aeley lowered the knife.

  "A little. I just don’t want to hurt you. I tell you: I’m not good at this."

  "Nothing will happen. It’s safe."

  "Don't say I didn't give you fair warning. And don’t laugh every time I miss, either," Lira whispered.

  "Of course I won't. Have some faith. I'll help you through it. Here, I'll show you exactly the way I learned. Watch where everything goes." Turning to face the target, Aeley moved her left leg forward and leaned back on the other. She chose one of the dark marks on the target and raised her left arm, holding it on an even line with her chest. With a slow breath and a firm grip on the knife in her right hand, she drew her arm back. In one smooth, coordinated movement, she shifted her weight over her outstretched leg and jerked her arm forward, releasing the knife. It sailed through the air and embedded in the target, filling her with satisfaction. A perfect throw.

  Aeley held up another knife. "Your turn."

  Lira accepted the knife after a moment of hesitation. "How do I hold it? Do I just—"

  "Hold it out with your thumb on top, like you're going to hit something with it. It's not a dining knife and it's not your quill. Yes, just like that. Don't grip too—no—yes, there." Aeley pointed to the target. "Now, face it."

  Turning with a shaky breath, Lira faced the target. "Here goes," she murmured, mimicking Aeley's stance.

  "Left leg forward, since you write with your right hand," Aeley instructed, when Lira's foot continued searching for the comfortable place to stop. "And keep them bent, but not too much. Don't lean forward until you throw and get that other foot—here, I'll help you."

  She stepped into Lira, their hips touching before Lira leaned back and pressed against Aeley's chest. Aeley's nipples hardened and she gripped the knife, resisting the urge to call off the lesson. It needed to be done.

  To focus her straying thoughts, she bent down and tapped Lira's lagging leg. "Point this just a little that way. Now stay back, just as you are, and bring up your arm," Aeley said, trying not to slide her hand up Lira's body. She lifted Lira's tensed wrist towards the target, holding her arm even. Glancing at Lira's face, she recognized the strain around her mouth.

  "It's alright," Aeley said, squeezing Lira's wrist. "You're doing fine. Relax everything." When Lira's shoulders dropped, Aeley continued, her voice hushed. "Since you're new to this, you need a guide. Use this arm to tell you when to release. Now, pull your hand back." Stepping around Lira, Aeley stopped her hand from drawing too far. "Hold it around here, at your ear. Any further back and you'll overdo it. When you're ready, throw the knife in one move. As your arm comes down, lean forward to give it strength, and let go at the level of your other arm. And don't stop. Just let go and keep bringing your hand down." She gestured to the target. "Go for it. Even if it fails, there's nothing to lose."

  "But—"

  "No," Aeley argued. "Keep it pointed at the target and you won't kill anyone. This thing won't bounce that far."

  "I still think this is a bad idea," Lira muttered. She took a breath, then another, the muscles in her hand flexing. On her third breath, she threw the knife.

  The blade struck the target higher than the mark before clattering to the floor. Lira straightened, her shoulders sagg
ed with her relief.

  "Good effort. Think we need to work on releasing on the right time. Maybe your wrist, too." Aeley handed Lira the last knife. "Let's try again." When Lira assumed the stance again, Aeley stepped in behind. Burying her face in Lira's hair, she breathed in. The scent stirred a warm feeling in her belly. "Keep this up here," she murmured, sliding her arm under Lira's and lifting it. She wrapped her other hand around Lira's fist. "And draw back very, very slowly."

  The blade neared her face, but she did not fall back. Lira's hand was tense, but she followed Aeley's guidance, suggesting she trusted Aeley's judgment.

  There was something sensual about having Lira's trust. It spurred an emotion that Aeley rarely felt. Was she wrong to want more, to see where it could lead?

  Aeley cleared her throat. "This time, you're going to bend your wrist a little, like this," she instructed as she moved Lira's arm, "and release here." She stopped, holding Lira's wrist at chest height. "And carry on. That part was good. Actually, all of it was good. You're already better at it than you thought."

  "But it didn't stick," Lira murmured, turning her head. "And isn't that the whole point?"

  "You hit it, and it's a better start than missing it completely." Aeley leaned into Lira, resting her chin on her shoulder. "You should be a little nicer to yourself, and less tense. Relax and it'll come." She watched Lira take her stance, the blade catching the light. "Wait."

  Lira stopped, her stance frozen. "What?"

  "Just let me—" Aeley brushed Lira's hair over her nonthrowing shoulder. She could not stop her fingers from sliding over Lira's arm in a caress, and a potential counterproductive distraction. "To keep it from getting caught," she murmured, moving aside. If only being close did not mean getting stepped on, hit, or making Lira miss the target, she would have pressed against her and guided each throw. Never had a lesson posed such a challenge for her, and her teachers had certainly never inspired anything so physical. Even training soldiers had never made her feel like this.

 

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