“I thought we could all use a bit of a break from the madness,” Atres says, “and just sit for a while and watch the riverbank and the stars.”
With his passengers all on board, the captain signals the big draft horses on the bank, who start to pull the barge upriver slowly.
“It’s lovely,” Emlyn smiles, “Thank you.”
“Eat,” Atres grins, “I got some things for you to try. You can tell me which ones you like.”
The three of them sit, eating and chatting about inconsequential things for some time. Lulled by the river, the wine, and quiet, Emlyn finally dozes against Atres’s shoulder. Moving carefully, he wraps his coat around her and snuggles her to keep her warm in the cool river breeze. Leaning back against a crate, he sighs contentedly. Benger chuckles and shakes his head.
“What’s funny?” Atres says quietly.
“Her... intensity doesn’t put you off?” Benger asks.
“No,” Atres shakes his head, “It’s part of what makes her who she is, as special as she is. You don’t get the rest of the package without that. I think my job is going to be to get her to do things like this more often, to help her bring balance and bring moderation to that intensity.”
“You know that moderation in all things is in our oaths,” Benger grins, “Maybe remind her of that once in a while.” Atres flashes Benger a grin and nods.
“Having heard her story, I understand why she pushes herself so hard,” Atres shrugs, “I hope she eases up a bit once she’s feeling better, more physically capable.”
“She’s been having nightmares,” Benger says quietly, “We had to spend the night at the camp in the woods, after she went hunting because we were both so done in. We ended up in the same dormitory tent. She almost came out of the cot, weapons drawn.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Atres nods, “I was rather expecting that.”
“What about you, though?” Atres asks, “Any girl at the Temple?”
“No,” Benger sighs, “even though my parents keep hoping. There was one, but she turned out to be... She wasn’t very nice.”
Atres and Benger sit chatting quietly as the barge makes its slow way to the next stop.
Atres has Benger lead the horses off the barge as he hefts the still sleeping Emlyn and follows behind them. Getting directions to an inn, he mounts up and, with Benger leading Snowflake, they make their way there. Benger negotiates with the innkeeper for their rooms, and Atres, still carrying Emlyn and smiling indulgently, deposits her on the bed. Removing her boots, he leaves her wrapped in his coat before tiptoeing out to go to his room. Benger shakes his head and follows him. Emlyn wakes up the next morning to find herself in a strange place, and she’s alarmed for a moment until she realizes that she’s wrapped in Atres’s coat, and she relaxes. Turning her head, she spots another note.
Fy lleidr bach,
I’m just next door if you need anything.
Atres
XOXOXOXOX
Emlyn smiles and snuggles into the coat for a moment, inhaling Atres’s scent and sighing.
She hears footsteps approach her door and pause, so she calls out, “I’m awake.”
“Good,” Atres calls back, “Come and eat.”
Pulling her boots back on, Emlyn gathers up Atres’s coat and opens the door.
“How are you, lass?” Atres asks softly and chuckles as Emlyn blushes. “Gods! There are those captivating pink ears.”
Still blushing, Emlyn hands him his coat. He swirls it around and puts it on, before leaning against her doorway.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Atres chuckles.
“I’m good,” Emlyn says and looks up at Atres, “Thank you for everything. I had a lovely time.”
“You are most welcome,” Atres smiles, “I rather enjoyed that. We might have to do that again.”
“I’d love to,” Emlyn nods, “I have something that you might be able to help me with. As much as I like Snowflake, I’d like to get my own horse so I can start training it.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Something for the tournaments?” Atres asks, but Emlyn shakes her head.
“No, I think I’ve found that horse,” Emlyn grins, as she tells him about the massive chestnut stallion she found at the bandit’s camp.
“Hmm.” Atres thinks, “Something more for transport, then. Decent speed and better stamina. How much do you have to spend?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Emlyn shrugs, “I have some things that I took from the bandits that I need to sell off to see. It seems like it should cover what I want and then some.”
“How about you show me when we get back to Harito?” Atres says, “Maybe I can help you with that, too.”
Emlyn nods, and they head downstairs to eat.
Benger stares at Emlyn’s plate and shakes his head, “I don’t know that Odus realizes just how much he’s underfeeding you. I didn’t notice you eating like this at my parents’ house.”
“Hah,” Emlyn grins, “That’s only because your brothers provide good cover. It wasn’t so hard, every time they’d ask to pass something to make sure a little of it ended up on my plate, too. I’ve already talked to Gethin and Ember about this. We’re supposed to start getting more food when everyone gets back. The deal that I made was for all of us. Hopefully Odus will be cooking and not the regular kitchen.”
“Not a fan of the peas, I take it?” Atres smirks.
“It’s worse than that,” Benger shakes his head, “They cook everything like that.”
Chiming in, Emlyn adds, “It’s horrid. They even manage to ruin breakfast, and that’s usually the hardest meal for anyone to ruin. You could play handball with the eggs. The porridge is runny. The bread is usually a bit burnt. The only things that they manage not to ruin are the crispy fried pork and sausages. If you ever eat with us, stick with the flat bread, the pork, and the fruit. Those are usually safe enough.”
The trio rides back down the well-worn path that huge draft horses use when towing the barges upriver. The day is clear and sunny, if a bit chilly. Atres rides next to Emlyn, pointing out various animals and plants, naming them for her. Atres catches Emlyn shivering slightly as the brisk morning breeze picks up and calls a halt. Whipping off his coat, he drapes it around her. It’s miles too big for her, but she slips into it gratefully.
“Won’t you be cold?” she asks, and Atres chuckles.
“Not in the least.”
Emlyn looks doubtful, but to prove his point, Atres takes her hand and places it on his forearm, where she can feel that he’s pretty warm.
“Then I thank you,” Emlyn smiles.
Atres grabs her hand and kisses it before releasing it.
The trio rides most of the way into Harito without incident. At spotting some men in King’s Guard leathers riding toward them at some speed, Atres pulls the trio off to the side to let them pass unimpeded. Instead, the riders pull up in front of them, and one of the men points at Emlyn.
“What is that girl doing in a King’s Guard coat? Take that off at once,” he orders.
Looking at Atres, he frowns, sizing him up, “You should know better, and I’ll be reporting the infraction as soon as I get back.”
Atres shrugs, “The lady was cold and, besides, she’ll have her own by the end of the next tenday. “
“Not bloody likely,” says one of the other men, “There are no women in the King’s Guard.”
The third one rides over and starts trying to pull the coat off Emlyn. Emlyn grabs his hand, cranking his fingers, and pulls him close enough to punch him in the throat.
“I will thank you, you yabbo, to keep your hands to yourself.”
Coughing and spluttering, he starts to reach for her again, but Emlyn’s eyes narrow, and her voice has an edge to it, “If you are wise, you will not make me reach for my weapons.”
“I’d leave her be,” Atres says calmly, “I know for a fact that her leathers have been ordered because Argonath had me place the order.”
“Leave it to Argonath to recruit a pathetic girl,” the second man says.
Smiling sweetly, Emlyn speaks in a saccharine voice, “And who might the three of you be?”
“This,” Atres waves a hand at the man in front, “is Dorak. His companion is Brarazo, and the... yabbo is Rirdec.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Emlyn says in a voice dripping with sarcasm, “I’ll be sure to let Prince Armeniel know that we’ve run into each other.”
Dorak blanches a bit at this, but Brarazo shrugs, “I doubt you even know the prince.”
“Your funeral,” Atres shrugs.
Emlyn turns to Atres, “Now do you see why I said I wanted nothing to do with this ridiculous boys ‘ club? Damn that weasel for forcing my hand on this. And you wonder why I want to have my hair in war-braids to wear those damn leathers? These men are your own, and they act like this. Just wait until it’s a bunch of lordlings who feel more entitled to do as they please and less of a need to be polite. I told you I’d end up punching someone over this. When I end up punching someone else, I’m going to remind you that I told you it would happen.”
“What would you know about war-braids?” Dorak smirks.
This is the first time in recent memory,” Emlyn shrugs, “that I am out of them. Most of the four years of my service have been spent wearing them.”
“Service? What kind of service?” Rirdec asks, with a leer.
“I am a paladin of Morrighu,” Emlyn frowns at him, “A paladin sworn to a battle Goddess. A fact that you would be wise to note.”
“My sister,” Benger says, pushing himself and his horse between Emlyn and Rirdec, “isn’t your enemy. Don’t make her, or the rest of us, into one. Watch your tone and what you imply.”
Rirdec mutters something else, Emlyn can’t hear it, but Benger clearly has. Benger’s face sets, and he glares at Rirdec. Scowling, Benger gestures to Emlyn, “Go thrash them. Perhaps then they’ll learn some manners.”
Smirking, Emlyn whips off Atres’s coat and tosses it to him. Whipping out a dagger, she slices the cinch on Rirdec’s saddle, dumping him onto the ground, and rides over him. Kneeing the horse around, she turns and charges at Dorak, who waits a moment too long. Emlyn slices the cinch on Dorak’s saddle so that the saddle goes sliding off, taking him with it. Brarazo digs his heels into his horse, hoping to escape. Before the horse can leap into motion, Emlyn slices the cinch on Brarazo’s saddle and Brarazo finds himself sliding off the back of the horse, who’s rapidly running away. Emlyn turns Snowflake again, headed back to Atres and Benger.
Neck arched and preening, Snowflake is prancing and quite pleased with her own performance when Dorak rushes toward her, thinking to stab the horse and use the confusion to unseat Emlyn. Emlyn, sensing that he’s approaching, holds up her fingers, clearly counting down. Three-Two-One. Giving Snowflake a command, Snowflake kicks behind her, and Atres grimaces as one of the hooves contacts Dorak’s chest, launching him backward.
“Perhaps some time for... quiet reflection on their hike back to Harito will help them learn to address a lady properly,” Emlyn says primly and sheathes her dagger.
Turning Snowflake to face the men, Emlyn smiles serenely, “If I am a pathetic girl child, what does all this say about all of you, I wonder?”
Without a glance back, Emlyn turns her mare toward Harito and kicks the pace into a lazy canter.
Have you ever ridden a horse? Let me know in the comments.