Draka and Adrian had ridden out of the castle before dawn the morning after the feast. They stopped at the monastery where he had purchased the barrels of ale after the hunt for some breakfast with the monks and to enjoy prayer and mass with them before riding on. They followed the road until it forked and turned north to where the hunting camp had been. That was where they camped, just the two of them. No one else. No distractions.
They didn’t build tents. They set their fire when they needed it. They slept curled against their horses. Draka had been tempted to bring his bow to hunt, but they brought food that they could peel from its wrapping and eat without warming it instead. That wasn’t how they wanted to spend their two days of not being King and Prince. They wanted to be guardian and ward one last time.
Adrian kept a few paces from Draka in the field where they had culled the herd. His falchion was held high in both hands, the blade pointing out from his shoulder, parallel to the ground as the morning sun glinted across its curved edge. Draka held the same stance, his own double-edged longsword held the same way as the ruby adorning his pommel shimmered brightly in the corner of his eye.
Slowly, they shifted their stances forward into the movement of a sweeping upward parry, moving the sun across their blades, until they were aimed skyward over their heads. Draka felt the burn in his arm from the weight, just as he did the day before, but it was becoming easier to withstand. They took the next step, sweeping their weapons downward into a low guard that ended with their swords held angled over their hips. The next step was a spin that struck low, then high, ending with them facing their invisible foe at a mid-guard.
“How are you feeling over there?” Adrian called, glancing his way without relaxing his stance.
Draka nodded with a jaw tightened by the soreness. He had lasted longer this time. He was hoping to spar, but it was more likely that he might have one or maybe two more steps before he needed to rest his shoulder. He huffed in disappointment.
They took the next step. A low parry followed by a full-body thrust that forced Draka to reach with his left arm fully extended.
He growled as his fingers lost their grip to the lightning strike of pain through his arm. His other hand shot to his shoulder and the sword tumbled to the bent yellow grass. His knees collapsed.
Adrian was at his side in less than a breath. “Careful, careful,” He shouted as he quickly grabbed the elbow of that arm and, pressing down on Draka’s shoulder, slowly lifted and pulled it outward.
Draka gritted his teeth to the pain, stretching sideways onto one hand as if he could escape it, but only managed a long agonizing grunt. He nodded once he felt Adrian’s efforts ease the pain.
Adrian let go and flopped down on his rump beside him. Draka sat up and pulled his sword onto his lap with a long, wincing breath.
“I was thinking about it and maybe you’re right,” Adrian pulled a stalk of wild wheat and began pulling it apart, “I think less is more with Maud. Stop telling her so much and just get on with it, right? If I had only asked her to dance and not said all that about the second and third dances, then at least I would have had that dance. And what would the second and third dance have mattered? You wouldn’t kill me if we kissed would you?”
Draka shrugged.
Adrian blinked at him for a moment. To himself, “You wouldn’t kill me over just a kiss.”
Draka looked right at him and nodded.
“That kiss would be worth it,” Adrian shrugged and tossed the bits mostly over his shoulder.
Draka smiled at that and pat Adrian’s knee encouragingly.
Adrian looked sideways, “I really thought she’d say yes. She probably thinks I talk too much.”
Again, Draka nodded with a shrug. You do.
“So did you before,” Adrian flapped his hand at him, “All this. Your lectures would go on for days.” Adrian threw himself back onto the ground. He mocked Draka’s deep voice, “Adri, you mustn’t let yourself be so present without your mind on the future. Stop thinking with only what is in front of you. Ba-blah ba-blah and on and on and on. Really, Draka, you’d keep me standing there for hours over the smallest things. Remember when I forgot to tighten my saddlebag and it fell off. It didn’t even open when it fell. Nothing spilled out, but there you went, on and on about how I could have lost all my things, how precious supplies lost could mean the difference between life and death on the hunt, in the wilderness, how some things are irreplaceable.” He rose back to sitting up, meeting Draka’s unimpressed cocked brow, “Even father said you needed to get to the point or we’d miss the Second Coming.”
Draka nodded his agreement to that. He wasn’t exactly prepared to stand in place of the boy’s father when the responsibility was given to him. It was either the lectures or his hand. He decided the lectures and some chores were the better, less traumatic route, and for that, he had no regrets. As far as he could see, Adrian had grown into the man he had always wanted him to be.
“I have in my mind to wed her,” Adrian faced him. “I want her to want me. So, if you disagree, speak now. Say so and I will look elsewhere and pursue another.”
Draka narrowed his eyes at him.
Adrian grinned, “Not a word? Good. I’ll take that as your blessing.”
Draka held up a finger as Adrian got on his feet and brushed himself off. Draka stood and sheathed his sword, shaking his head at him.
“No, you had your chance to say something and you didn’t,” Adrian pat his shoulder. “Thank you, Draka, I truly appreciate you seeing my perspective on this and being so understanding.”
Draka kicked him flat in the chest in the same movement that he drew his sword. Adrian flew backwards into a roll that landed him on his feet with his curved falchion in hand and a smile on his face.
Adrian whipped his falchion to loosen his wrist.
Draka pressed on his shoulder as he rolled it, eyeing the man in front of him.
“Alright, ask yourself this,” Adrian took up the first stance, with the blade aimed over the shoulder and parallel to the ground, “If not me, then who shall be her husband?”
Draka took up the same stance. He shruggingly nodded. He had a point.
Adrian came at him at a quickened, but slower than usual pace, swinging low then high so that Draka easily parried it. “My mother is bringing Jasmine to be presented to the Dauphin,” he grunted when Draka didn’t parry his next lower swing and dodged it instead, “But if Maudeline isn’t spoken for before then…”
Draka dodged another with a whirl and tapped the top of his head with a chuckle.
Adrian sighed at himself for that before turning back to him, “She’ll be his to pursue as well.”
Draka took a mid-guard stance and nodded.
Adrian glowered. “You can’t be serious. Have you met him? He’s a pompous little silver-fed bitch. You think the von Strasses were bad, wait until you see those powdered wigged asses ducking through your doors.”
Draka shrugged. This time, he moved on Adrian. Upward swing. Adrian parried. Leftward, parried. Right and down, parried.
“And don’t forget that there are sons eligible in Eire and Spain. The O’Dolans are kind people, but really, her children will be shorter than you.”
Draka kicked him again. Adrian was laughing as he rolled back onto his feet. He came at Draka again. Parry after parry, Adrian moved on him, never pressing too hard or too fast for Draka to withstand or meet.
“I’ve already begun our courtship,” Adrian locked their blades and held them. “I bought her a book at the market and she accepted. Now, be honest, here and now.” Draka could see the seriousness in his look, a breath away from him, his hazel eyes glistening with fear at the words he was about to speak, “May I pursue her? Please?”
Draka furrowed his brow at him, blinking. He nodded in such a way that should have told him that he had his approval from the start.
Adrian grinned with a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I was worried for a moment—”
Draka hit him hard on the temple with the ruby pommel of his sword and Adrian crumbled at his feet. Sheathing his sword, Draka took a long, proud breath.
“…There,” Adrian moaned, sprawled across the ground with a hand to the side of his head. “Ouch.” He looked up to Draka. “I’m confused. Nod if I’m allowed to pursue her.”
Draka nodded.
“Okay,” Adrian rolled to stagger back onto his feet, collecting his falchion along the way. “Just wanted to make sure.”
Draka motioned for him to follow back to where they had set their saddles while Vigora and Pearl were galloping and playing in the field together. He pulled out his parchment and quill to write, ‘You’ve always had my blessing, but she ultimately decides, not you or I or your mother. So, if she decides she prefers the Dauphin, then that is whom she will marry. But I’d prefer it was you.’
Adrian beamed and nodded, sitting beside him. Then, still nodding. “How?”
To that, Draka shook his head with a shrug. ‘They have an odd tradition in Talkro where you give them a rock as a way to let them know that you are interested in them romantically. Perhaps Maud doesn’t know that you are pursuing her in such a way.’
Adrian tucked his lips. “You mean how the boys all poke fun about her father giving her mother rocks out of the stream?”
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Draka grinned, nodding.
“No one else ever did that,” Adrian chuckled. “I’m certainly never going to do that.”
‘No, it’s a tradition of these people. I’m certain. Her father told me that it was how her mother knew he wanted her.’
“Draka,” Adrian shook his head, “These people are my people, my father’s people. They have the same traditions as my mother, apart from the Ribbon Dances, but those only take the place of families feuding over arranged marriages. You pursue them like you would any other woman. Gifts—likely not rocks out of the river—and talking with them, signs of affection, dancing, those sorts of things. Her father was an odd man and her mother won him on the Ribbon Dance like any other in Talkro. There were seven other women who danced against her.”
Draka crinkled his brow. ‘This is like the ring again. I don’t understand anything anymore. Now I feel like a fool for giving Aurie that stone I found. Looks like we are both idiots in our pursuit of Clevlan women.’
“Does Maud like rocks?”
Draka shook his head. ‘She likes colors. Fruit. Hunting. Riding and horses. Walking in the forest.’ He tried to think a moment.
Adrian grabbed one of Draka’s parchments and fumbled through his saddlebag for a quill.
‘Not certain if she is endeared by wit with her heart, but she is quick minded and often debates Pierre on his teachings. She can be very critical. And when she argues, she tends to attack. That’s her mother’s spirit in her. Her father was a kinder soul, I think she got the want to be nurturing from him, in all honesty. He always took me for what I did beyond his own expectations and she seems to do much the same.’
Adrian had sat himself beside Draka with the saddle in front of him so he had something hard to write on as he copied it. “You would think her mother was the nurturing one. Isn’t that how all mothers are?”
Draka chuckled. ‘To their children, yes. To others, depends on the woman.’
“Aurie is nurturing. I’ve seen her be very kind since I’ve been here,” Adrian was looking back and forth from the two parchments as he wrote, mumbling under his breath, “…fruit…hunting…horses…What about games? Does Maudeline know any games? Like chess or football?”
Draka shrugged. ‘Never cared to ask. And of course Aurie is nurturing! And kind. But she also made certain I knew that it was an inconvenience to her that she had to be when I needed her help when I was injured. Before we knew each other. And stop calling her Maudeline. Maud. She doesn’t like her full name, it’s only used when she’s being chastised by those in authority over her, so I never use it. Neither should you. Oh, and she loves to know that she provides needs.’
“Oh, Aurie’s one of those,” Adrian scoffed. “Provides needs? Like how?”
‘She made socks for me after they bandaged my feet,” Draka had to hand that parchment to Adrian to continue on the next. ‘I didn’t wear them and it really angered her, but she did the same when it came to anything she saw I needed just because she saw that I needed it. Same with everyone around her. Even in Strasbourg, she became a member of the physician’s staff voluntarily because she can stitch wounds.’
“So, if I were to, say, make it look like I need something and ask her for it…”
Draka shook his head, ‘Don’t ask. Just let her see and wait for her to fulfill it.’
“What if she doesn’t?”
‘Then maybe you should see if you can get that book back.’
“Mean,” Adrian grumbled, continuing to copy. “What can I do for her? How can I get her attention?”
‘I already told you. Rocks. Try to match her eyes.’
Adrian set the quill down. “I…Draka, please don’t give anymore women rocks. I beg you. Unless they’re diamonds or rubies or some other precious jewel attached to necklaces and rings, you keep your little weird obsessions to yourself, alright?”
‘I don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn’t have given your mother that ring and caused our whole debacle. Like the boys, I was selected by my wife. It was just less violently decided. What should I do to gain Aurie? Once your mother is here, I will be free to pursue her and I want her.’ Draka hunched over for a moment with a long breath. ‘I haven’t felt this way about a woman.’
Adrian regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, we’ll have to burn that before mother arrives or she’ll burn your castle to the ground for it.”
That only darkened Draka’s mood more.
“What makes it different? Than your wife, I mean. You mourned her for as long as I’ve known you and now,” Adrian tucked his quill in his left hand and rested on his elbow on the saddle over his jotted notes. “Now, you’re different. You’ve changed.”
Draka nodded. It took a bit of thought, but he wrote, ‘I was younger than you when I was with my wife. I was to keep our shelter, hunt, keep the fire warm, and ensure that she was happy. If I didn’t, she could strike me, mark me for my failures in pleasing her. Lorelei taught me well about how to make her happy and my wife was also much better than others about saying what she wanted before I made a mistake. I was afraid of angering her. I was always afraid that she wasn’t happy enough.’
After reading that, Adrian looked at Draka quizzically. “And you mourned this woman for twenty years?”
Draka glaringly nodded. ‘I was her husband. That is what a husband does for his wife. Don’t pretend it isn’t the same for your people, your marks just aren’t physically visible like ours. I prefer the visible ones over the alternative, they heal faster.’
“Truth is truth,” Adrian said sardonically. “But that isn’t what I think of as love, in any meaning or sense of the word. That sounds like slavery.”
Draka let out a long breath. He wrote, ‘Until recently, I would have argued with you until we came to blows on that. With Aurie, I want to make her happy because I like the world more when she’s happy. She was there when I had no one to turn to and I want to be there for her so I can do the same or, better yet, make certain she never will need to. Need for anything. Even if I didn’t swear to take care of her and Maud, I would still spend what I have left of my life trying to give her everything.’
“Making her Regent really isn’t the way to go about that. And, she’s a Paladin. You can’t…she’s no longer a woman who will stay in a hut and cook your dinner, you know.”
‘You don’t say?’ Draka glared after he wrote it. ‘I’m on a fool’s path. I should concentrate on God’s instead. We have an Abbey to conquer and a powerful being to capture. If God Wills for Aurie to be my wife, then it shall be. If not, she will be returned to her birthright which your family stole from her, by the way, and will take over Alcalia in my stead until Maud can consolidate power and gain support of the Paladinate. Either her or Enya, but Enya hasn’t said if her Order has assigned her here officially, so I must rely on Aurie.’
“Her birthright?” Adrian pursed his brow. “My family didn’t steal anyone’s birthright. We—oh…she’s an Artois or Beauvais, isn’t she? Please tell me she’s an Artois.”
Draka shook his head. ‘Beauvais. I’m naming her Countess of Alcer and giving her lands comparable to whoever I give Nancy. The bulk of the Order will have to be housed in those lands. I want her to have the largest force in Alcalia for if I fall. Never mind that, what do I do? If not the rocks, what do I do? Especially as a King and she, a widow and member of my court.’
Adrian blinked for a moment. “Knowing all that,” Adrian laced his fingers through his hair, “I’d recommend not pissing her off after she has that army, for one.”
Draka hung his head. He should wait until Isa gets here and talk to her. Maybe she’ll be a better source on all this. So long as she isn’t intending to compete with Aurie, that is. Though, he was certain with how Alcalia was chartered, Isa would know better than to endanger her own empire with such a match. It was one of the reasons he asked for it. A reason that Cardinal Thomas likely recognized from the moment he read it.
“Out of all that, Draka,” Adrian shook his head at him, “I don’t know much about Aurie at all. Do you? And does she know you?”
That made Draka lift his head. She can’t read. He’s never had a conversation with her but in their dreams together about anything other than Maud and what was happening now, and he still questioned whether that was her or just his own projections of her in them. What if he was completely mistaken? What if he was feeling so strongly for someone that wasn’t actually who they are? Just a construct he had formed in his heart because she saw that he was in need and took the mantle of his responsibilities without being asked.
‘I don’t,’ Draka wrote finally before resting his head in his hands. ‘And I don’t know how to change that before my vow ends after the Feast of All Saints. I shouldn’t have given her the rock.’
Adrian pointed, “You really gave her a rock? Draka, why? A rock?” He was laughing a bit too hard at that. “You’re right. Give her the army and the lands. Alcalia needs a smarter king, for certain.”
Draka glared.
Adrian shrugged, still looking like he wanted to laugh, “Seriously, Draka, no one gives rocks to their mates except birds. Maybe she likes fine sticks, too. Ever think her blood gets hot at the sight of dirt? She is a farmer’s widow, after all.”
Are you finished? Draka’s stiffening jaw said.
Adrian froze, wide eyed. “Alright. You’re trying. I shouldn’t peg you for it, I’m not exactly winning on my end with her daughter, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t thinking about finding the best rock I could if that meant getting Maud to say yes the next time there’s a dance. But I still really and truly doubt it will do anything but make me look like an absolute fool in the process. You say you want to marry the woman, but this isn’t like Maud and I, is it? Maud has no children, no husband before me that has been a part of her already, and we’re both young. Also, I’m trying to court her with that particular intent in mind, but not leap into the Cathedral with a ring for her finger and a bed prepared! Where is your head, now? You feel differently for her? Sounds to me like you’re any other soldier knowing he’s about to be in a bloody battle and just wants to know that someone will remember his name after, instead of a man who is intending to live out his days with a woman who will be at his bedside when he is too old and too tired to change his soiled clothes. Which is it? Because, I’m saying this to you right now…”
Draka crossed his arms, pinching his lips to one side as he listened.
“I’ve already been told by Enya that we, as in you, Aurie, Maud, and myself, are not going to be at the battle,” Adrian raised his palms in front of him, “And I’m to incapacitate you, with the help of Olaf, if you try to go anyway.”
‘You think you can?’ Draka’s brow raised at him after he wrote it.
“With your arm like it is, yes,” Adrian shrugged. “Easily. I might let Olaf help just because I know he’s always wanted to since you tied his arrows together at the Volga.”
Draka couldn’t stop from chuckling at remembering Olaf’s face when he saw all ten arrows fly out of his quiver when he made his first shot in that skirmish, tumbling harmlessly like a twirling whip into the wide river they were trying to cross.
“You initiated your courtship, I guess,” Adrian rolled his eyes. “With a rock. Did you at least paint it or something? Carve on it?”
Draka shook his head. ‘I think it was an obsidian spearhead or maybe onyx that became shaped that way. It was smooth and dark, like crystal, but not glass.’
“Well, that’s something, I guess,” Adrian tsked. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for a fine stick for you to give her next. This is why everyone calls you a barbarian, if you’re wondering."
