“You’ve got a lot of bad habits to unlearn, then,” Benger says, shaking his head. “We call for help all the time. Now I really feel terrible for not praying while Jathon was getting his family out of that noose. Even if you had known how outnumbered we were, you still wouldn’t have thought of calling for aid. You’d have assumed that we were on our own. That’s something we’ll have to work on with you.”
“Agreed,” Emlyn replies with a nod, “It’s going to take some time for me to get used to that idea.”
Kethas pats her shoulder, “Sooner rather than later, for Atres’s sake.”
“Oes, ewythr,” Emlyn nods, and Kethas grins at her.
“How did your old temple work, if you didn’t have cohorts?” Benger asks.
“We were assigned tasks to carry out,” Emlyn explains, “If the task were deemed big enough, they’d assign as many as they thought they should and send us out. You might not work with the same person twice. It’s been nice not to have to pick up on everyone’s combat style all the time. I think this system is more effective.”
Veni looks at Emlyn curiously, “Do you know why we’re here?”
“I assume it’s got something to do with Atres,” Emlyn says slowly, “but I’m not sure exactly.”
“We’re Baytas and not Valkis or Rothe, but any dragon-blood can help him keep his head clear. His clanmates will be the best at it. Rothe, with their skills, are second-best, but with seven of us, we should be able to do him some good.”
“He’s been fairly settled the last couple of days, since I made Argonath agree to join my cohort in this debacle,” Emlyn nods at Atres. “He says it’s at least survivable now. The seer we consulted seems to think that this thing is going to take me, and I’ll have to free myself of it. I’ve got plans in place for that.”
“If it’s a debacle, why are you going?” Veni asks.
“I’m the only one of us who’s ever faced a dragon,” Emlyn replies, “Dragons are usually smart enough not to mess with humans, because it never ends well for them. We might be smaller, weaker, and easier to damage, but we’ll gang up on anything that’s that big of a threat, and dragons know this. That’s part of the reason I don’t think this thing is a dragon. I don’t know what I’m facing, and I’m trusting that if all else fails, my Goddess can get me back if I can’t climb back down the mountain from its lair. In any event, I intend to do my best to ensure that everyone who rides in there with us rides back out. That includes me.”
“What’s the other part of the reason you don’t think it’s really a dragon?” Veni asks.
“It doesn’t act like a dragon. Asking for unsullied females isn’t something I’ve ever even heard of a dragon doing. A herd beast because they’re hungry… yes. Girls... no.”
“What’s your plan?” Veni asks.
“For now, we wait,” Emlyn shrugs, “We keep investigating. We prepare as best we can. Above all, we remain calm. Fear and panic are the true enemies.”
“You’re awfully calm about all this,” Veni replies with an odd look.
“What am I going to do? Fret, mope, burst into tears?” Emlyn replies, “None of those things are productive. They’re also far more likely to keep him upset and overprotective. If you’d faced some of the things I have, this is nothing by comparison.”
“Why is that?” Veni frowns.
“I’m fairly certain that between Atres’s predictions and the seer’s predictions that I’m going to survive this,” Emlyn shrugs, “That’s far better odds than I’ve faced before.”
Before Veni can ask anything else, Emlyn nudges Henga and heads upstairs.
Loket looks at Veni and chuckles, “She doesn’t like to talk about her past battles, and it looked like that’s what you were going to ask about next.”
Veni nods, “Noted.”
“If any of her old friends were here, it might be different,” Gramin says, “but as things sit, it’s a reminder of everything she’s lost.”
“We need to get her home to the Taig,” Gendini says, “It might not be her home, but it’s at least a place she knows from happier times. Somewhere she can grieve and recover in peace.”
“She’s grieving?” Veni asks, “I’d never have known.”
“She’d never let you see it,” Otrin says, “but she’s mourning her whole family and all of her friends. They all died in the attack that nearly killed her.”
“Gods above!” Veni shakes his head, “You’d never know it to talk to her. Tell her I’m sorry, that I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known. I’ll just go bother Atres for a bit.”
“Are all the men here so good-looking?” Henga asks.
“A good many of them are,” Emlyn laughs, “I’ve seen quite a few. Veni also seems to be nice. The dragon-blooded men here are quite popular with the ladies. They can’t get them pregnant, so they’re often sought after as… companions for the evening.”
Henga arches a brow at her, “And how do you know about this?”
“Atres and I talked about it because he was one of the most sought after,” Emlyn shrugs, “When a girl at the fair approached me and warned me off him, I wanted to know why she said all those things. I got quite an education on exactly how all that does and doesn’t work. Not just from Atres either. Argonath and Korek felt the need to chime in.”
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Henga howls with laughter, “How red did your face get?”
“I was mortified,” Emlyn admits, “It certainly wasn’t anything I ever expected to have to discuss with… men I barely know. I think Atres wanted me to be sure he was being truthful about the whole thing. It seemed important to him that I know that.”
“Hmm,” Henga muses, “He’s willing to risk your discomfort and even your anger to be honest with you. That bodes well, you know. I’m starting to see why you think so much of him.”
“He has proven himself to be worthy on every account so far,” Emlyn agrees, “Nearly everything I could have hoped for in a mate. Once his kit is done, we’ll see how well he can handle himself in a ring.”
“Soon, I hope,” Emlyn explains, “I’m not sure where Neit’s Temple is at in their preparations to start resurrecting Cymry. I need him to be ready to face challenges before that happens. If we happen to resurrect any Great House men, they will challenge him if they’re not too closely related to me.”
“I can see a Cymry man thinking that,” Henga nods, “A beautiful, highly ranked female has you resurrected, so of course it’s because she wanted some warmer bones to jump.”
“Henga!” Emlyn squeals in mock outrage before dissolving into giggles.
“You’re not too far off the mark, though,” Emlyn agrees, “They’ll assume that I’m looking for a founding sire for a new Great House. I don’t want to fight to the death with someone I just went to a lot of trouble to resurrect because he’s not my chosen mate. It will be easier and somewhat more civilized to let them get into a ring with Atres so Atres can put them in their place.”
The girls sit up chatting until they doze off. Henga wakes up to hear Emlyn thrashing in her sleep and mumbling battle commands. As Henga listens, it’s clear that Emlyn is cursing Elgan, her former commander. It appears to be located in a place called Solva. Henga brushes her hair and soothes her for a bit until Emlyn’s sleep gets quiet, before going back to her bed.
The next morning, Henga looks at Emlyn, “What were you dreaming about last night?”
Emlyn sighs heavily. “That son of a troll, Elgan, marched us into an ambush outside of Solva, in the forest. We knew the Bristians had snuck over the border and were raiding villages. The king sent us out to put a stop to it. We traipsed all over chasing after them. Instead of letting me pull together some mounted units and track them down, Elgan made all of us stomp around the forest on foot. They were a much smaller group and moving a lot faster. There was no way we would ever catch them. We ended up spending the night in the forest.”
“Why would he do that?” Henga asks.
“I was never sure if he was in league with them or just a dolt,” Emlyn grimaces, “I wondered if he wasn’t trying to get me killed so I couldn’t displace him. Mind you, all this happened after that business in the showers.”
Henga nods, “It’s at least possible that he was trying to do away with you. What happened? Tell me why you’re having nightmares about this?”
Sighing heavily, Emlyn dives into the story, “It was foggy and rainy. I told him we should get back on the road and head back to Solva. You couldn’t see much because of the thick fog. You couldn’t hear much because of the rain. Everything was mucky, so we were moving even slower than we had been. Elgan agreed that the weather was terrible but swore there was a shorter way to get back to Solva by going straight through the forest.”
“What’s the forest like there?” Henga asks.
“The forest there is dense and dark, even on a sunny day. It’s a thick maze of towering trees and narrow, winding paths obscured by underbrush.”
“That sounds like an ideal place for an ambush,” Henga says, rolling her eyes, “Even I can see that.”
“That’s what it turned out to be,” Emlyn agrees, “He marched us right into the middle of the Bristians before we knew it. We fought for three or four days to get clear of them. As soon as the fight started, Elgan disappeared. The Bristians had a fondness for picking off the highest-ranking commanders first. We thought he was either dead or captured, so I assumed command. I got everyone back into formation so that we could protect ourselves. It was close and brutal that first day. They had us very nearly surrounded. Our saving grace was that they’d spread their men thin to do it.”
“That sounds horrible,” Henga agrees, “How did you get out of it?”
Emlyn begins to explain, “Once I’d gotten everyone formed up again, we started testing their line to see where we might be able to punch through it. That was the second day of fighting. That night, some of us snuck out and any Bristian that we could get our hands on didn’t wake up the next morning. With their numbers thinned down, we managed to punch through their line. We thinned them out some more by rolling up the edges of their line, while moving our own out of the middle of the circle.”
“Ugh,” Henga nods, “No wonder it gives you nightmares.”
“That’s not the worst of it,” Emlyn says with a wry chuckle, “Once we managed to break the Bristians’ formation, I started pulling everyone back toward the road. The wind finally turned in our favor, and we were able to set some fires that drove the Bristians back a bit more. Everything was wet, but the smoke was just as effective at pushing them back. Men who can’t breathe can’t swing a sword. As we were retreating to the road, we finally found Elgan. Do you know what that moron did? We found him, most of the way back to Solva, hiding in a hollow tree, nearly pissing himself in fear. I had to keep my own troops from killing him. I should have left him in that forest with a Bristian sword in his guts, even if it was a Bristian sword I put there myself. We lost many good people in that fiasco. I told Elgan that the next time he overruled me, I would leave him in the forest with an enemy weapon shoved up his ass because we were never, ever going to have a repeat of this mess again.”
Laughing, Henga asks, “Did he believe you?”
Emlyn nods grimly, “He did. I meant every last word of it. His troops and mine were both quite prepared to do it for me. If I’d turned my back for more than five minutes, they would have done it, against my orders. We got back to Solva. I sent out some mounted groups who quickly found the Bristians and signaled for the rest of us. We came in on horses this time, and I made it a point to slaughter every last one of them. If Elgan was in league with them to try to kill me, I wanted them to know that I wasn’t going to be that easy to kill. I also wanted them to know that the price for failing would be quite steep. I made sure that every Bristian they sent ended up as fertilizer in the forest. I also made sure that I kept a Bristian sword in my command tent as a reminder. Every time Elgan had to come see me for something, it was right there, on display behind my desk, where I knew he couldn’t miss it.”
“What did Elgan make of that?” Henga asks.
“He asked me more than once if I was ever going to put it away,” Emlyn smirks, “I told him that every sword has a proper scabbard and that I’d put it away when I found the right one. What I didn’t tell him was that I had three more stashed away, just in case I should ever need them. After that, I made it a point to collect weapons from the neighboring kingdoms whenever we fought with them. That way, if I ever needed one, I’d have it.”
“That’s brutal. Threatening your commander without actually threatening him,” Henga grins.
“I learned to be cheeky from the best,” Emlyn grins back.
“What did the king make of all that?” Henga asks.
Emlyn rolls her eyes. “Elgan spun some tale about being captured and escaping. The king couldn’t disprove it, but no one believed it either. The only way he could have gotten that close to Solva was if he’d run as soon as the fighting started, almost the minute that they ambushed us. The king didn’t trust him much after that. Bedo felt like Elgan was trying to get rid of me and set the whole thing up. I’m pretty sure Bedo said that to the king.”
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The Weakness of Prayer: Emlyn reveals that in her old life, asking for aid was seen as weakness—a habit Benger and Kethas are determined to break before it gets her killed.
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Dragon Doubts: Emlyn is convinced the creature they are facing isn't a true dragon because it demands "unsullied females," a behavior she says dragons don't exhibit.
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Mourning in Silence: We learn the depth of Emlyn’s loss; she is mourning her entire family and all her friends who died in the attack that nearly took her life.
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The Fertility Problem: A bit of dwarven "education" reveals why dragon-blooded men like Atres are popular at fairs. Namely, they can provide companionship without the risk of pregnancy.
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The Resurrection Plan: Emlyn is preparing Atres to face challenges in the ring because she anticipates that any Great House men she resurrects will immediately challenge him for her hand.
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The Tall Obstacle Rating: 3/5 Tankards.
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Review: He’s being "truthful" about his popularity with the local ladies, which Henga thinks bodes well. He’s also proving himself "worthy" as a mate, though he’s got a date with a combat ring in his future that might knock some of that polish off.