Stories from a clever mercenary in a wild world.
This is an art piece I did for my novel–it’s set in the same world as Zare. In fact it’s about Shyr Valla–the first city Narya Magnific conquered, the one Quill says was wiped off the land as if it had never been.
The novel isn’t finished, but Zare is helping. She’s the best.
For the rest of the morning no one entered or left the great hall at Ironsides’ manor. It wasn’t until well after lunchtime, when we had finished our plotting and Vaudrin went to check the kitchen that even servants entered the room. They came in with Vaudrin, carrying trays of food for lunch. After serving they quickly bustled away—even though by that point we were quite done talking and more interested in eating.
After our late lunch, I went in search of Balleck and Olena.
I found Balleck in one of the barns, hanging by his legs from a stall wall and doing sit ups. Even the dim light of the barn caught the red in his blond hair and skimmed his muscles with an artist’s grace. I approached quietly and had to clear my throat he was so engrossed in his work. Balleck startled, then flipped himself to the ground. “My lady,” he said, dusting himself off.
I hopped up on a couple bales of straw. He came and leaned next to me, waiting for me to say something. “It’s been a wild two weeks,” I offered.
Balleck grimaced. “I’d say so. Zare,” he began, then hesitated. “Lady Zare.”
I grimaced.
He began again, “Our part in this fight is over—such as it was. Gabe and I need to help the girls get back to the circus. We’ve discussed it with Ironsides and our plan is to rest here for a week and then take the southern road to Magadar.”
I drew a deep breath and let it out; what had I expected him to say? “That is sensible.”
He looked at me, “You could come with us. Your brothers and the soldiers can handle things here.”
I had definitely not expected that. I turned to him in surprise, “What do you mean?”
“You’re hunted in this land, come with us to a place we’re regular folk again,” said Balleck earnestly, “It’s dangerous here, Zare.”
“I’m dangerous,” I retorted.
“I know—I’ve heard the girls talk about what you did to save them. But you shouldn’t have had to—we were all close by waiting to go in and rescue them. You didn’t need to take that kind of risk where we couldn’t protect you.” Balleck leaned closer, “It turned out alright—everyone is safe now. But it might not have—we might easily have lost you—I could have lost you.” He picked up my hand and sought my eyes pleadingly, “You should come with me to Magadar, your family will follow.”
I stared at him. His blue eyes were pale with pain and I was too stunned to know what to say. I was suddenly aware that the danger which permeated my life was as familiar to me as the morning dew…and that the circus was already part of my past. I squeezed Balleck’s hand and said gently, “I have to stay.”
Balleck nodded, his face resigned. “I thought you would say that.”
“Do you understand why?” I asked, desperately wishing he did.
“Maybe.” A sad smile spread tipped his mouth and he lifted his free hand to my face, tracing my cheek with his fingers. “I lost you the day everyone was kidnapped.”
At his touch every single fire spinning memory sprang to mind and exploded with fireworks of desire and regret. In another life, I could have been a fire spinner: I could have traveled all over the world performing riding stunts with the circus. Married Balleck and had little wild haired children running around with flaming batons and impeccably trained dancing ponies.
But that was before I fished a mysterious wounded archer out of the Tryber River. Before I found out about a rebellion and found hope to defeat the sorceress. Before my family was stolen. I dropped my eyes because I couldn’t gaze into Balleck’s soul any longer. He traced my face a moment longer and then let his hand fall, too.
We were quiet, listening to the sound of what wouldn’t be, then Balleck broke the spell, “I had a lovely time dancing with you at the harvest festival. Before…you know…everything fell apart forever.”
I choked out a laugh, “Yes…I enjoyed dancing with you, too. It was a lovely night up until the soldiers came. And even after that it wasn’t so bad since we got out alright.”
Balleck grunted, “It was the beginning of our troubles. Back when I thought you were a former duchess or something.”
“Well,” I scooted off the bale of straw, still holding his hand. “We have a little bit of time before,” I hesitated, “I have to be going again.”
He straightened to follow me, “I won’t ask,” he assured a little tiredly.
“Would you be willing to give one last lesson in fire spinning?” I bit my lip as I looked back at him.
“Of course, my lady,” Balleck bowed, the filtered light catching his smile and pressing it into my memory like a signet ring in wax.
Messing around with a more minimalist style today.
I need to learn more about alcohol ink.
“It’s a good thing I kept those extra nanny goats last year!” announced Ironsides, setting the pitcher and mugs on the table and beginning to pour. “Otherwise we’d only be sharing thimbles of their milk instead of cups,” he smiled and Quill and I moved over to the table to receive our mugs. “Milda will be in shortly with the rest of breakfast.” Ironsides settled himself on a bench, and we sat across from him sipping our milk.
“It’s good,” I said, just to say something.
“Thank you,” replied Ironsides.
After that no one said anything, just sat drinking goat’s milk and observing the shape of the room. I wanted to ask more about Narya’s sorcery, Quill’s father, the new king, and everything else. But I wasn’t sure I should with Ironsides there. Finally, Milda came in with breakfast—a warm porridge with bacon and quince on the side. Then at least we had the food to discuss, even if it was in short bursts. I felt as if the reality of the Nether Queen’s sorcery was sitting at the table with us—silent, imposing, and superior. Was Ironsides right when he said she was already too strong…and if so, did that matter? To what hope did Quill refer? These questions took spots on the long benches also, and the room began to feel quite crowded to me. If Nadine were here conversation would have flowed easily in spite of all this. Or so I imagined. I hadn’t had the chance to discover if Nadine’s silver tongue had any effect on Quill’s stubbornness, but Ironsides at least would have talked. The princessly skill of table conversation was invaluable for diplomacy and information gathering—it was a tool I had to consciously pick up to use, whereas it was a part of Nadine. I wondered where my sister was, what she was doing, and if she were alright. Were they treating my family as valuable prisoners, protecting them as they should? Though nothing good could come of their imprisonment.
The porridge caught in my throat as grief from the past two weeks crashed down on me. A little food and sleep and suddenly I had energy to think about my problems again. My stomach turned over and I set down my spoon.
Quill and Ironsides both stopped to look at me. “Are you alright, my lady?” asked Quill.
I nodded. If by “alright” you mean “not choking to death,” then absolutely.
“What’s the matter, child?” asked Ironsides, setting his own spoon down, too.
I managed to meet his eyes. They were blue and kind, and if I looked too long I would cry. “I’m sorry,” I stood up, “I was thinking of my family—thank you for breakfast!” I nearly ran out of the great room and down the hallway that led out of the house. The air was cool but the morning sun was warm as I picked a direction and kept going out of the front yard. I didn’t go back into the orange grove, but cut right and discovered the barns. Past those, in a rocky paddock full of goats, I found Sinker and Hook browsing happily. I went to them and after a quick greeting, leaned into Hook’s shoulder and cried. The horses continued to clip grass, though Hook occasionally reached back to nose me while I sobbed about everything that had happened in the past year. My tears so rarely come there is a backlog of things to cry over. I thought of everything from my favorite gown that burned with the palace, to embarrassing flubs at the circus, to the certain doom of my sister and parents. Not even the circus master’s broken boxes went unmourned. Finally, when my soul had run out of even the silliest memory to cry over, the tears stopped and I pulled away from Hook.
The black turned his head to nudge me, I patted him. “I should probably go get cleaned up,” I told him. He flicked an ear and nibbled my cuff. “Aww, thanks, I’m glad you don’t mind my face.” I sniffed and turned to go back to the house. I hoped I could sneak in—but there was no chance of that. Ayglos was leaning on the fence, waiting for me.
I walked toward him, embarrassed.
“You OK?” asked Ayglos as I slipped through the fence.
“Yes,” I let him pull me in for a hug, “I’m feeling better now.”
“Quill followed you here, then when Namal and I got up he told me where to find you,” explained my brother as we turned together for the house.
“Kind of him.”
“He’s a royal guard,” smiled Ayglos, “There was no way he was letting you disappear.”
“I meant to let me wail in peace—although I suppose our royal guard would have done that, too.” I desperately wanted to rub my face, but my hands were covered in horse-dirt and would only make matters worse. “I must look a sight.”
My brother snorted. “Any knight would leap to right the wrongs that caused your tears.”
I noticed that Ayglos had new clothes, too; fitted deep brown trousers and a shirt that was a dusky cherry tone. Like mine, they were good thick cloth, soft with wear. “You look nice,” I commented as we entered the yard.
“Ironsides is most generous,” replied my brother.
“Ayglos,” I stopped him before we could enter the house, “I was talking with Quill this morning—he said that Narya really is a sorceress—that Shyr Valla and her armies are truly gone without a trace.”
Ayglos turned back to look at me carefully. “He did?”
I nodded. “That is how Dalyn fell: Her armies were—disappeared—poof—and did not come to lift the siege. When no rescue came, the city fell.”
Ayglos considered this for a moment. Before he spoke I knew he had decided on skepticism. “There are any number of things that could have happened to that army,” he said at last. “Perhaps they joined her army,” He held up a hand to stop my protest, “Stranger things have happened. Though the city is a harder thing. Did Quill see it?”
I closed my mouth. Quill hadn’t said he’d seen it himself, technically, though I was sure he had.
Ayglos knew he had won his point. “There now, nothing is certain. There is no use worrying.” He led the way into the house, and had the good grace to take me to the hallway where all our rooms were rather than to the main hall.
He left me at my room and I washed my hands and splashed more water on my face. Not feeling quite ready yet to face the others, I also unbraided and combed my hair before twisting it back into braids and curling these into buns at the back of my head. When I was finished I took a deep breath and walked back to the main hall.
When I arrived my brothers were standing, staring at one of Quill’s men, who was sitting on a bench with a weary slump that implied a hard ride and a recent arrival.
“You’re sure?” asked Namal.
The man nodded. “It looks like they had wagon trouble. The wheels were mismatched like they’d had to get new ones on their way.”
“But you’re sure it’s them?” repeated Ayglos.
The man nodded again.
Just then Quill entered the room from the kitchen door, carrying a tray with a porridge bowl and a mug. His eyes met mine and he nodded to me before going to his man and setting the tray down before him. “Here you are, well earned.”
The scout, for he clearly was, gratefully fell upon the porridge. I walked up to the table and my brother’s noticed me for the first time.
“Zare,” Namal turned to me and held out an arm. I stepped in to his embrace. “Zare, they found our family.”
More doodles from my plane trip a few weeks ago. I am really fond of this one. It came out much better than I anticipated.
My brothers and I followed Ironsides into the dim of the house, Vaudrin and Quill entered behind us. Sunshine from a window above our heads provided ample light for the entryway and central hallway of the manor. I looked around. The lower half of the walls was bare stone, the upper was coated in plaster. The entryway was wide, and there were two doors leading into rooms on either side. Iron Sides ignored these and led us down the hallway until it reached the great room. This room was lit by four windows at the moment, but there were also lamps hanging from the ceiling and a generous gray stone fireplace. An assortment of chairs draped in blankets and furs were grouped around the fireplace. In the middle of the room was the dinner table. It was at least twelve feet long and made of thick slabs of knobby olive wood which had been sanded until it was as smooth as glass. Two benches ran down either side and two large chairs sat on one end. Six hunting hounds were sprawled under the table, they leapt up and ran to greet us when we entered.
“Please, sit.” Ironsides gestured to the table. “I will call for food.” He left us to the wriggling of the hounds and went out a door at the back of the room.
Quill bowed slightly, “Take your rightful places, my lords, my lady.”
Namal and Ayglos bowed in return and walked to the table. There was more than one acceptable way to arrange seating, and normally such things would be determined in part by the nature of the visit and relationship with the host. Namal chose to sit on the right bench, and indicated that Ayglos sit on his right. I sat to Ayglos’s right, and Quill and Vaudrin sat across from Ayglos and I, respectively, leaving the seat across from Namal empty. Perhaps for Ironside’s lady, or if he had a chief warrior or advisor he would want in attendance.
Ayglos leaned in, “Does Iron Sides have a proper name?”
Quill and Vaudrin hesitated.
“Ironsides is his name,” said Vaudrin.
“I think the family name is Bairdwynder,” offered Quill with a shrug.
Iron Sides re-entered the room and to our surprise took the seat across from Namal rather than the seat at the head of the table. “Food is on its way,” he announced cheerfully. “Your people have been arrayed in the day laborer’s hall and will also taste my cook’s wizardly food. She is a miracle worker in this times when spices are hard to come by. Now, I have only one question for you: Are these women with you by their own will?” He leveled a stern glare around the table, but especially at Quill and Vaudrin.
“Yes. We rescued them from the garrison at”—Quill began.
“Stop,” Ironsides held up his hand, “That will suffice. I haven’t decided yet if I want to know what Dalyn’s royal guards are doing this far afield.” He pointed at me and my brothers, “Or who they are.”
“Fair enough,” Quill leaned back. “May we spend the night here? We have traveled hard these past several days. Even your barn would be a welcome refuge.”
“That, I can provide,” replied Ironsides, shedding his stern looks and allowing a smile. “Some of you can even have beds—though I can’t sleep forty in the house! And I am still well situated so I can bolster your provisions a bit for wherever you’re headed.”
“We would be grateful,” put in Namal. “Our path has taken unexpected turns, and we did not prepare for so many mouths to feed.”
“Sounds like a marriage,” laughed Ironsides.
Before anyone could react to Ironsides’s joke, the door to the kitchen opened and a pair of maidservants came in carrying platters of food –two each—and two boys around the age of ten scuttled in behind them carrying plates and silverware. Immediately the delightful smell of roast lamb and garlic filled the room. My mouth started to water and I breathed deeply, it had been a lifetime since I’d had roast lamb. The maidservants skillfully placed the platters in the center of the table and the boys breathlessly plunked the plates and silverware in front of each of us.
As the boys turned to scurry away Ironsides reached out and caught the boys by their britches and tugged them back to him. The boys dissolved into giggles as Ironsides’ arms closed around them. “Friends, these are my sons: Alam and Wyck.” The lads squirmed, laughed, then straightened and stared at us with bright eyed curiosity. “They were supposed to stay in the kitchen, little rascals.” He growled gently at them, and they giggled.
“We were helping!” announced the taller one.
“We’re sorry, sir, we told them to stay behind,” one of the maidservants paused close to Ironsides and scowled at the boys.
“I thought as much,” Ironsides turned the boys around to face him, “There now, you’ve seen the strangers, head back to the kitchen and eat your supper.”
The boys had evidently been hoping for a different verdict and their shoulders drooped. “Yes, sir,” they replied. Their unison that much more impressive considering their gloomy tone.
The boys both kissed their father on the cheek before heading back to the kitchen, this time the maids shooed them along before them. I caught snatches of soft scolding as they exited and the door closed behind them. I looked after them wistfully. Ayglos and I had once haunted the kitchens of Galhara. Cooks are very good friends to have–although they will make you earn your handouts. Or at least ours did. There were times when all four of us would loiter in the kitchens and she would task us with preparing herbs–we would race to see who could strip the most rosemary or lavender.
Ironsides’ voice brought me back to the present. “My apologies,” he said, a smile lingering on his face. “I had thought it would be better to keep my lads out from underfoot—considering the times and not knowing what errand you’ve been about. They are good boys, but like all children have a nose for secrets.”
“Sadly a wise choice, I’m afraid,” replied Namal.
“Say no more,” grunted Ironsides, “Let us eat and be grateful for peace tonight.”
I was certainly grateful—the roasted lamb was as perfect as it smelled; moist and laced with garlic. There was also a spinach pastry drowned in butter, and flat bread with tomatoes, hummus and a bowl of pesto. I ate as if I’d never had food before—and I ate too much. No one talked much during dinner. Ironsides occasionally commented about farming or the weather, but most of us were happy enough to commune with the food. After we finished, the maids came back in and Ironsides asked them to show us to rooms, since we were clearly tired.
My limbs were heavy and I felt like a round decanter brimming dangerously full as I followed one of the maids down a hallway and into a modest little room with a bed. She showed me also where the wash house was, and where the lamps were. I thanked her through my food-stupor, and as soon as she left I kicked off my shoes, collapsed on the bed, and burrowed under the blankets. I was awake just long enough to coo over the touch of a real mattress and then I slept without dreams.
A good middle class outfit for Zare. Messing around with ink pencils again.
When I woke up it was dark and I felt a bit better, though my limbs were sore in places from all the swimming. I found Quill and made him change places with me—it was his turn to look weary and not argue. Over the next few days we stopped only for short rests, eating handfuls of road food and passing around water skins while we walked. We had to outdistance any hunt from Gillenwater, and we still hoped to rescue my family. Quill assured us we would find refuge and help in Dalyn, so we set as blistering a pace as we could manage. I wondered, too, if perhaps our family had been sent to Dalyn to take the river to Hirhel instead of going overland.
Though Dalyn had been conquered five years ago, her puppet king was of the rightful line and clearly the city’s spirit was not broken. What with her royal guard marauding around area cities to harass the Nether Queen and all. As with the Nether Queen’s other conquests, the toppling of Dalyn was shrouded in rumor and wild stories. I quickly learned that one contributing factor to the rumors was that none of Quill’s men—who had all lived through the conquest as children—were willing to talk about it. The first day or two, if one of the men wandered close I would ask him what happened and generally their reply was, “Dalyn fell,” spoken with finality as if there were no other variables.
Not that there was much talking of any sort on this march.
Night and day traded places again and again, and still we walked or jogged south and west. Five to ten of Quill’s men were always scouting ahead or to the sides—steering us around hamlets, homes, and other travelers. Quill mostly rode Hook, but still walked for ever lengthening periods to stretch his legs. Having no other duties, I usually walked between the horses.
Our scouts did see hunting parties from Gillenwater’s garrison a few times, and worked hard to lay down misleading trails to confuse the trackers. It appeared to work, because none found us.
The women, even the girls from Gillenwater who were not accustomed to life on the road, were all in good spirits. A few were suffering from colds, but on the whole they were doing very well and keeping up with the soldiers. Sinker was indispensable—providing a mobile resting place for them. Gabe and Balleck, too, were quite busy helping any way they could. I wanted to talk with my circus people—particularly Olena, but there wasn’t really time. What talk was had was between her and Ayglos, for he stayed close to her.
On the fifth day we came to the orderly lanes of an orange orchard. One of the scouts came trotting back to find Quill. The scout fell in step beside Hook and I sidled close to hear what he said. “Iron Sides says it is safe to come ahead.”
“Excellent. We shall have a warm supper tonight.”
The scout grinned and moved off again.
Quill looked down at me, “Iron Sides was once in the royal guard, now he lives here.” Quill gestured to the orange grove. “This estate belonged to his father, but when Dalyn fell it passed to him.”
“Was his father in the army?” I asked quietly.
Quill looked grim. “Not exactly. He was a priest and a seer, and the Nether Queen had him executed.”
“What?” I had not known that she executed priests—and no one executed seers. “Did she kill all the priests in Dalyn?”
“No,” Quill shook his head. “Just the one who was a seer.”
“Perhaps he foresaw her doom,” I said, bitterness creeping into my voice.
“Undoubtedly,” came Quill’s dark reply.
We fell silent and continued along the lanes of the orchard. Soon we started to catch glimpses of laborers and whiffs of cooking fires. Namal joined us and Quill explained about our plans to spend the night with Iron Sides. The peaks of a manor house appeared over the orchard trees, and then the lanes came to an end at a packed dirt yard before the house itself. A well-built man with chin length honey colored hair stood in the doorway to the house with his feet spread and his arms crossed. I guessed he was from Remko’s generation, and I liked him immediately because of the association. He watched the company spill out of the orchard and pool in his yard like an overflown spring, and then he smiled. The look so transformed his face I felt like I was looking at a different man. He stepped forward.
“Quilleran! How you’ve grown!”
“Iron Sides! Yet only one foot in the grave?” asked Quill, dismounting and moving forward to greet Iron Sides with manly back slapping.
“Just a toe,” replied Iron Sides with a grin before turning to Vaudrin. “Vaudrin Lakeside? The guard suits you, too.” Iron Sides was the same height as Vaudrin, but his build was tighter knit and it gave the odd impression that he was a small man. Small and dangerous, like a crossbow quarrel, I thought. “Your men and women we can feed in day laborer’s hall,” Iron Sides was saying, “we’ve been preparing for them since your scouts told us of your approach.”
“Thank you,” said Quill, “And we have three for your hearth, also.” Quill gestured to my brothers and I. “They are allies.”
Iron Sides turned to us. “Come in, and welcome to my home,” he bowed and gestured for us to follow him inside.
With a deep breath I began to sum up the exploration of the garrison. Telling the story made me feel like my actions were very reckless. I winced as I related my impulsive strike on the men in the girl’s room, and made sure to prominently mention Olena’s news that our family had already been moved. They already knew about the harrowing escape through the tunnel so I didn’t dwell there. My brothers could well remember the unpleasantness of such a project, and the others would never know anyway. I tried to gloss over the skirmish with the patrolmen at the river, and summed up as quickly as I could our getting over the wall and crawling to the woods. I was relieved when Jemin stepped in again to relate his side.
Jemin explained his diversion, that he had gone to the main road and—using those sad remaining sheaves of wheat—lit a fire in the street roughly the shape of a prancing horse, the old seal of Gillenwater.
Quill and Vaudrin were both nodding. “It is too early to involve Dalyn publicly, and under the circumstances implying Galhara’s involvement would be unwise also,” commented Vaudrin.
“Does anyone in Gillenwater actually oppose the Nether Queen?” I asked.
“None love her, but few would have the courage to stand up to her without some great aid,” replied Jemin. “Perhaps the burning horse will give them courage.”
“Perhaps,” said Quill, “But we should move on from this place immediately. If the garrison searches the countryside, we need to be farther than half a day’s walk.”
I felt despair rising in me as I realized there would be no rest. “But we have walked all night, I don’t think the women can keep going like this.” I couldn’t go on like this.
“They have to,” said Namal, looking at me compassionately, “But they can take turns riding Sinker—he can likely carry three at a time.”
A sigh escaped the depths of my being. “Very well. But I would like to change my clothes.” I picked up the hem of my very humble homespun, which was looking even worse after the night of abuse I had given it.
“It will take a little while to get ready to leave, so you have time to freshen up,” Quill looked to Vaudrin. “Have the men get ready, we leave within the hour.”
Vaudrin rose and immediately set about the business of recalling their scouts and sentries.
“Come on, Zare,” Ayglos stood and offered me his hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I took the hand up gratefully, and Ayglos led me over to where our packs sat in a tidy pile at the base of a tree. He located mine and handed it to me. I deposited my crossbow and daggers on the ground to take the pack. I rummaged for a clean tunic, trousers, and a linen wash cloth, then ducked behind a larger tree to shed my filthy clothes and shoes. I scrubbed myself quickly, then with a shiver slipped into the dry clothes. I had forgotten what dry clothes felt like—and just how much warmer they were than damp! There was no help for the shoes, and damp shoes were better than nothing. Wadding up my rags I came back around the tree. Ayglos was waiting.
“At our next stop I want to burn these,” I held up my bundle. “They are not worth—nor likely to survive—the effort to scrub the blood out.” I stuffed my distasteful wad in the pack. I wished I could leave it under the tree, but if it was found then the Nether Queen’s soldiers would know they were headed in the right direction.
“How are you?” Ayglos asked, searching my face with his green-flecked eyes.
I shrugged. “Exhausted.” I picked up the leather belt and sheathed daggers and strapped them back around my waist. “And I already feel naked without these.”
“You’re not wounded?” he prodded, pulling out one of our cloaks and draping it around my shoulders. “Or otherwise scarred?”
“Not wounded. If you mean mentally scarred…I don’t know yet.” I sat down and pulled my knees up. “I think I’m fine, but I’m too tired to know for sure. I don’t think I killed them all—there are a couple that I just knocked out. Is that bad? Should I have killed them?”
My brother looked at me, tenderness radiated from him like heat from a hearth fire—a welcome refuge after being out in a storm. “Not necessarily—even if they recognized you, they might not want to own up to being so thoroughly trounced by a seventeen-year-old girl.”
I smirked. “Some girls my age are already ruling kingdoms or raising children, it’s not such an insult.” Though, not many girls my age were running around with knives and swords.
Ayglos smiled, then said, “I guess we always forget that you lived through the siege, too.”
I cocked an eye at him. “And that I fought by your side.”
“Yes, and that you fought by my side.”
“And survived just fine,” I added, “Valiantly. Better than you, even.”
Ayglos prodded me with his foot. “Don’t push it.”
I grinned and closed my eyes. “I wished for you often, never fear.”
Ayglos laughed.
He had beaten me in every single duel we had ever fought. Usually I pretended that wasn’t the case because it was more fun that way. “Wake me up when we’re leaving,” I said.
“Of course.” I heard him walking away as I gave myself to the dark of my eyelids
When Ayglos shook my shoulder I swore that no time had passed—and I was nearly right. It had only taken Quill’s men a half an hour to get ready. Even with finding cloaks for all the girls. It appeared that they simply existed in a state of being able to pick up and run at a moment’s notice. My horses, Sinker and Hook, were standing in the center of the glen, and Gabe was boosting women onto Sinker’s back. I smiled at the women but went straight to the horses and let them sniff my hands. They remembered me. They’d better. I scratched Hook’s neck, and he relaxed into my touch just as much as I into his.
Quill approached. “You should ride, my lady,” he said.
“I still have legs,” I countered, “You’re the one who needs to ride.”
“I will, later,” He stopped next to me. “Jemin and the red-head—Olena?—told me of your deeds. You have earned a ride.”
I was puzzled. “Didn’t I tell you my deeds?”
Quill smiled and arched his eyebrow, my heart flopped. “An abbreviated version, yes. Jemin expounded on your inventiveness, and Olena on your prowess—taking on three men with naught but your daggers and a broken bottle after swimming for two hours with barely a break.”
“Olena killed one of them,” I corrected.
“And playing a ghost to haunt the men on the wall,” his smile broadened to a grin. “I wish I could have seen it. Jemin said you gave him a bit of a turn himself.”
I looked down, then at Hook’s ears. My cheeks were warm from Quill’s praise and I didn’t know what to say. Princesses should know what to say, but my ingenuity was apparently spent for the time being.
“Did you know that this week should have been the Feast of Maten?”
“Maten?” I furrowed my brow. I had forgotten about that feast. The mountain cities observed this feast, it had to do with the man and woman—Maten and Nelia?—who lead the mountain cities to victory against a warlock. “Maten died,” I said slowly, “because he took the warlock personally to the gates of hell…and then didn’t make it back?”
“And after helping the cities rebuild, she disappeared. They say she left to find him, that she roams the earth to this day looking for him.” Quill’s eyes were sparkling. “She had dark hair like you, as the story goes.”
My ears couldn’t get redder as I discovered that the feeling of accidently achieving something incredible felt awfully similar to nearly falling off a cliff. I shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t know that.”
“Jemin also told me that you overrode him and kept him from sacrificing himself to cover your escape. I am grateful to you for preserving one of my best men. There aren’t many your age—man or woman—who would have performed so well. Were you not born with rank, I would gladly give you one,” Quill bowed at the waist, “Rest a little, and later I will ride. It’s not a short journey to Dalyn; you’ll get your chance to walk.”
If he was going to insist, I wasn’t going to argue. My spirits bolstered, I mustered enough energy to jump on Hook’s back—rather less gracefully than usual—and once we were underway I nodded off to the rhythm of his walk. Maybe Eloi hadn’t forgotten us.
Shayera, Hawkgirl…one of my favorite characters from the Justice League. There isn’t a lot of Hawkgirl memorabilia out there, so I thought I’d start working on some. I imagine more will turn up since she’s a character on a new live action show (Legends of Tomorrow), but I’m old school and like the old JLA Hawkgirl better.
The Legend of Zare Caspian 