Homecoming

Polished 18.1 — 1h34m24s — 2023/05/13

Polished 18.2 — 25m28s — 2023/05/13

Polished 18.3 - 9m55s — 2023/05/14

Polished 18.1 — 42m28s — 2023/07/05

Rewrote the beginning of 18.1. Tightened it up. — 1h03m37s — 2023/07/13

Polished the whole thing — 1h05m05s — 2023/07/14

Polished — 1h08m42s — 2023/08/21

The party had barely commenced on their way from Excergie to Hearthstone before they picked up more travel companions. A couple joined them right outside the city, simply headed the same direction—but it wasn’t even an hour from the town before several others came looking specifically for Krumpus or one of his cousins. Indeed, the Jindleyaks were well known in the area.

As the hours crept along and the sun arched overhead, more and more people joined the growing caravan. Some only stayed for a few minutes, maybe half a mile or so. They came out to trade information, while others brought physical wares to barter. A few came to entertain: dancing, singing, and giving grand speeches as they marched.

The caravan slowed from a easy walk to a meandering shuffle. The crowd swelled and receded several times, especially as they passed through the occasional village. More friends joined, and Baet was beginning to wonder how many were going all the way to the house of Azra Trandhill—as the Jindleyaks were calling their eventual destination. At a crossroads, Elpis turned the cart onto the lesser track and nearly half the crowd proceeded down the greater path.

Baet rode next to Scurra as he turned onto the smaller track. He pointed after the mob that continued down the main road and away from them. “Hearthstone?” he asked.

Scurra gave a nod.

“Then we’re almost there.”

Scurra shrugged. “A couple more hours.”

There were several watch-towers along the road, often hidden among the trees, wrapped in vines, and hard to see. Many of these towers were unoccupied—or seemed unoccupied. Those they did see in the towers either waved as they watched the slow progression of the throng, or came to the road so they might see who passed; then to exchange pleasantries and hugs with the various members of the crowd, and also to gape at the foreigners—especially the dark man. It was still an impressive mob that proceeded up the valley. They passed under a large iron gate, both sturdy and impressive, and with a most unconventional fence. The fence was made of large trees, thick with constricting vines and thorny undergrowth. Much of it was fruiting. Baet stared at the fence, impressed by both it’s ingenuity and beauty. It was quite the wonder to see such a practical structure crafted with living materials. The various trees, brush, and vines were so intertwined that he had an impossible time trying to figure where the first one stopped and the next one started. It all made for a formidable wall—though there also appeared to be small breaks in the fence that an individual might be able to slip through.

“Don’t fall for it,” Scurra said when she caught him staring into a nearby break. “Some of those are secret ways through, yes, but most are dead ends, and half of the ones that do go through are trapped.”

“Trapped?!” Wenifas said. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“They aren’t lethal,” Scurra began. “Just embarrassing. I’d bet its once a week that someone gets tied in some crafty knot by one of the trap-setters—usually one of the kids,” she shrugged. “The older you get though, the more embarrassing it becomes.”

Baet continued to stare into the break. “I’m not so worried about the traps on your sneaky paths so much as I am about the ones that are following us while still hiding in the trees.”

“So you noticed?” Scurra stared at the Soat guard, impressed.

"Sneaking’s in my blood,” Baet answered. “How many more are out there, watching us?”

“Maybe a couple dozen?” Scurra shrugged. “There’s always a few playing wargames in the trees, so even when you’re playing with them, you never quite know how many are about.”

“Let me guess,” Baet said. “More cousins?”

Scurra answered with her own question. “How’d you catch ‘em?”

“Your leathery brother. He did this,” Baet waved his hand and wiggled his fingers just so. “It’s pretty subtle, but I used a similar signal a few times in Rottershelm. We used it to ward each other away, to say things aren’t safe,” he explained. “Gave me a bit of start to see your brother do that,” he admitted.

“It’s Tallian Hand, and it means quite the opposite for us,” Scurra explained. “He’s trying to get them to quit sneaking among the trees—but once we’re far enough along, most will probably pick up the old game right where they left it.”

Baet repeated the gesture. “Tallian Hand,” he said. “Sounds established.”

“Came from ancient Tallia,” Scurra replied. “Said to be a thousand years old—though half the tribes don’t practice it all that much. What of your signals in Rottershelm?”

Baet shook his head. “There’s no name for what we were doing—just hand signals—made up and agreed upon by a couple dozen sneaks, spies, thieves, and assassins, a couple drunks, several gamblers, and no few ladies of the best sor—though their reputations claimed otherwise. We had hundreds of signals, though it’s been such a time that I might not remember half of them.” he reminisced.

Beyond the verdant fence, the valley thinned and spread as it gently twisted east and north. A small stream drifted back and forth across the valley, crossed by sturdy bridges. There were several places where the stream spread into pools. Some were occupied. Footpaths forked from the road and cut through fields of thick vegetation. The trees were neat and often formed in curious patterns. There were long, elaborate beds of greens and spices at the edge of the stream, which was also crowded with cottonwoods, sycamores, willows, and a dozen other variety of trees. Many were productive. He recognized apple, peach, walnut… another stone fruit—likely cherry but possibly plum… and was that pecan? There were others that the guard could not identify, but the fruit often looked and smelled appetizing. Indeed, several proved quite tasty, as he was encouraged to take samples.

There were also grapes among these mixed groves, growing directly into the branches of the trees. There were blackberries ten feet up, cropped over the sides of several small cottages, climbing the legs of the watch-towers, and also among the pillars of a large and finely gazebo with its many intricate artistic flourishes.

There were other outbuildings that speckled the valley; cottages, sheds, barns, and smaller homes. As they continued up the road, the ridgelines slowly closed in around them; two knuckles of a slow rising mountain. Sometimes in the large fields, Baet would see horses, cattle, goats, sheep, maybe pigs—none of it was too surprising until he noted a number of massive auroch strolling among some trees and staying out of the midday heat. The massive beasts paid the newcomers little mind as they chewed their cud, and lounged in the shade.

There were people aplenty in the valley. Hands in the field paused in their duties to stare at the new arrivals. Many quit their harvesting so they might join the crowd. There were a number of little ones that rushed among the walking horses. They had all sorts of questions to ask—even among the strangers. Several showed off objects they had made or decorated. One young boy had just caught a snake of a benign and casual manner, a beast that did not mind being caught, or even being passed among the men; all of whom were quite appreciative to see the beast, and treated it with a gentle respect. Both Elpis and Aim gave veiled hints to the boy concerning the snake they managed to catch, though they coyly evaded any further investigation.

The adults also had questions for the visitors—though all were asked in a friendly manner. Some of them asked of the strangers directly, and they all found themselves genially introduced.

A good number of the locals were shocked to see Krumpus visibly scarred, both hands and face. Many were keen to hide their surprise, and a few acted as if nothing had changed, though others addressed him directly. The shaman poked back at some of the interrogators, asking after their own injuries and scars. Still, it was done in a congenial and jocular manner with no real malice. Indeed, there were many smiles and nods, and also a good amount of laugher—especially since none of them were really all that much worse for the wear.

Trailing a mob of locals, the party arrived at a collection of buildings a couple miles above the gated entrance. Although it was all said to be one man’s estate, there were so many outbuildings and cottages that it appeared to be more of a village. At the center was the main house, built of stone and sporting a spire five stories high. They stopped before it.

A steward stepped from the mansion with a dozen or so helpers. He hugged his cousins, turned to Paye specifically, and said, “Your grandfather will be delighted you have returned. He has been quite pained by your absence.”

Paye blushed to hear it, but realized that since the steward felt obliged to say such a thing—well—it meant that it wasn’t altogether true.

The steward turned to the foreigners and smiled. “Welcome to the home of Azra Trandhill. He is most anxious to meet you and hopes you will join him on the back patio for some light refreshments. However, since you have been some time on the road, we suspect you’d prefer to see your rooms and the bath house first.”

“Thank you,” Creigal said as he dismounted. He took his saddle bags and his sword, then gave his reigns to a valet, and followed the steward into a barrack house. Elpis, Andrus, Homoth, and Paye left them for the main house—but several of the Jindleyaks came with the foreigners: Duboha, Aim, Krumpus, and Scurra. Each was given a key to a neat little room, with a bed and a desk. Then, they were shown to the baths.

The baths were extravagant to the same degree that the bunk house was spartan. Some of the baths were outside, while others were housed in an elaborate structure on the bank of the river. The pools were all lined with tile and neat rock. Many of the tubs were heated. They varied in temperature from as cold as the river, to as hot as a man could stand. “These are nice,” Baet breathed as he settled into a smaller pool, warm and unoccupied. They didn’t stay nearly as long as he might of liked—but then—they were expected.

In the backyard, there was food and drink aplenty. The company was introduced to Azra Trandhill, a massive old man as thick as a tree. Despite his stature, the old bear grimaced and hobbled as he approached his granddaughter, so he might wrap her in a hug. He held her hand for a time, and had several quick questions for her before he turned his full attention to the foreigners. Then he talked—and he talked a lot—but mostly to ask questions. He was quite curious to hear of the company’s myriad adventures.

As the adults talked, a number of children circulated among them with pointed observations and questions all their own. These interrogations were slowed by an assortment of cookies, cakes, fruits, punches, and such. The children laughed, poked each other, and played to the far reaches of the lawn—only to pilfer another handful of sweets from the desert table. They’d ask another round of superficial questions to the newcomers while picking apart their pastries. Once the cakes were finished, they disappeared to the far corners of the yard, now that their hands were spotless.

These young rapscallions were most curious about the dark man—but Carringten kept all but the bravest at bay with the slightest touch of a scowl—a maneuver that only added to his intrigue and mystique.

For a long time, Azra talked to Creigal of the duke’s quest, and also of his home. The Saot and the Trohl both spoke affably, though they did so in Ministrian—which intrigued Toar to no end. He found it fascinating that these two congenial gentlemen found peace while speaking the language of a common enemy. A consummate host, Azra pledged his house and plenty to the duke and his men. In return, Creigal assured that he would not stay long, and promised restitution. After a couple hours, Azra begged off, and left the duke to his leisure, so he might attend other responsibilities.

Slowly, the gathering broke up. Roustich took his horse and rode for the city proper with a description of Humbert, so anyone that had been in Land’s End might speak of his passing. Krumpus took Meu and Wenifas to meet his wife. She lived in the next valley, just a few miles from the main house. Scurra went with them. Toar went to explore—as Celesi stalked after him. Creigal retired to his room so he might write a few letters. Aim talked Duboha and Carringten into joining some of the locals for a game of touches. Baet was preparing to return to the baths, when Paye offered to escort him back to the barracks,as Homoth stalked in the distance.

“Do you like my grandfather’s house?” she asked as she led him through a twist of halls and common rooms.

“It’s very opulent,” Beat answered. “It’s quite at the center of Hearthstone—though I expected the town to be a bit bigger,” he shrugged.

Paye snickered. “Surely you must know that this is just my grandfather’s estate.”

“This is just a country house?!” Baet protested. “But it is practically a village!”

“It is all just a house, a home to perhaps a hundred of my family,” Paye shook her head. “Although it is a very nice house, and there is a smattering of smaller homes all about the estate, this is hardly a village, and nothing compared to the city proper.”

“How far is it to the city proper?” Baet wondered.

“To the first wall?” Paye shrugged. “Well, go back to the main road, and then its at least another dozen miles,” she said. “The fort is still a day’s travel, especially if one gets distracted in the markets. Would you like to see it?”

“Of course,” Baet shrugged. “Perhaps we can go one of these next few days?”

“Why wait? Lets take a look now!” Paye stepped into the road.

For a half a second, Baet balked, thinking the town was too far away—but not wanting to contradict the lady, he decided to follow instead.

They made their way down the road and passed several buildings, then stepped onto a footpath that cut east through a rich field. The path dodged among the trees, then began to switch right and left as it climbed the eastern ridge of the valley. They didn’t hike for long before they crested the ridge—maybe half an hour—and the view was well worth the effort! Several miles to the east, and just a touch south, was a tall flat mountain. Approaching the mountain was a number of estates similar to Azra’s, with long lines of trees and patchy green fields. The occasional great house sat surrounded by a slight crowd of outbuildings. Then, as one got closer to the foot of the mountain, the houses and towers crowded in upon each other and jostled for position as they girded the slopes. Finally, at the very top of the long flat of the mountain’s summit, was a fort with a series of watch towers capped with flags of every color that waved and snapped in the wind.

“So that’s Hearthstone,” Baet said with reverence. He was astounded to see it and realized it would take an unimaginable army to assail such a city—especially the fort at its summit! “I should think no one could ever capture it—unless they came out of the sky!”

Paye turned to him, curious that he should say such a thing. “You mean, like the leviathan?”

“Yeah, or the dragons,” Baet shook his head. “Wow!” With a smile, he turned and smoldered at the girl. “I must say that’s the second prettiest thing I’ve seen today!”

“Ugh!” Paye groaned as she turned away and started back down the path. “Is that how you get women in the south?!” she laughed.

~!@#$%^&*()_+ 18.2 +_)(*&^%$#@!~

Krumpus asked Meu and Wenifas to go meet his wife, Sephonie, who lived just over the eastern ridge. He also roped his sister into going, though she seemed reluctant. “I suppose I must,” Scurra acquiesced, then trudged after the others with a sigh.

Wenifas noticed that the shaman was also reticent, and so she leaned close to the sister and whispered, “Is this wife of his really so bad?”

Normally, the priestess wasn’t so forward, but Meu had given her a kiss, honeyed with venom, so she had the wyrm’s alacrity to bolster her courage.

Scurra pointed at her brother. “When he’s around she’s not nearly so bad, but when I have to visit without him—” she trailed off with a shrug, not wanting to say bad things about the mother of her nieces.

The path up the ridge was steep enough, and Wenifas found herself panting. They all took turns carrying Evereste, which was nice for the winded priestess. She was born by the sea, and had always hoped that she might live by the beaches, but circumstance had inevitably led her to climb ever higher in this strange world. She paused to take in the view and wondered that the ridgeline looked liked waves caught in stone.

As they hiked, Krumpus stopped several times, so he might gather his breath. At first Wenifas thought he too was getting winded, but after the third of fourth time, she realized he was stopping on her behalf, and only pretended to need a rest. She was chagrined by the fact, but also quite happy to have the pauses. Then, after several more pauses, she realized that he wasn’t pausing for her after all—but only using her as a pretense. She was just an excuse to stall. That intrigued her all the more.

At the top of the ridge, Meu and Wenifas caught sight of the city proper—and what a sight it was! The entire mountain was covered with dwellings! There was a massive fort at the very top of the mountain, and large buildings all about the sides! Only a number of sheer cliffs maintained their natural splendor! It was quite beyond the priestess how some of the dwellings were built, as they seemed to lean precariously over gulches and drops.

As spectacular as it was, there were still several miles to the edge of that mountain, and Wenifas was not interested in going so far. “Tell me this cottage is a bit closer than all that,” she said, suddenly worried that the hike was going to take the rest of the day.

“Just down there,” Scurra pointed toward the wooded base of the ridge.

Going down was much easier, though they still paused several times—only now it was, “to take in the view”. Once they reached the base, it wasn’t long before they glimpsed a cottage between all the trees, large and comfortable. There was a nervous air about the shaman, and the sister was stiff. Meu sensed it too, as she told the priest, this is not a proper homecoming. The only one oblivious to the strangeness of the visit was Evereste, as she frequently demanded to be let down, so she could pick about the pleasant dirt.

Finally they arrived at a beautiful cottage. Krumpus mounted the covered porch and reached for the door,. He gave the others an awkward grin, then knocked.

He was about to knock again, when the door opened. A short squat lady appeared, squawked in her native tongue, then noticed Krumpus, as he stood beaming. For a second, the woman stopped, turned bright red, then threw open the door and flew at Krumpus with a maniacal shriek. She collided with the shaman, drove him back into the grass, and slapped at the little man as he rolled into a ball.

Wenifas and Meu moved to intercede, but Scurra lifted a hand and shook her head. “For your own sake, don’t get involved,” she advised.

Meu stared, and replied that she would protect her friend.

“Leave it be,” Scurra continued. “She won’t do any real damage,” she claimed.

How can you be so sure? the skin-walker persisted.

“She’d be risking the coin he sends, and despite her complaints, she rather likes her fine house,” she said of the cabin.

Wenifas took a second look at the dwelling. The structure was strong and wide, with two stories, and all sorts of intricacies. There was a solid fence about it, with a varied and pleasant garden. She turned back to the shaman. The fighting continued, and the screeching and cursing with it. “What shall we do?” Wenifas asked, as she stared after her beleaguered friend.

“Let it play out,” Scurra said. “She’s not much of a physical fighter anyway.”

“Did you say it’s worse when he isn’t around?” Wenifas asked.

“Well, worse for me,” Scurra shrugged. “Still, she don’t dare hit me, because I’d hit her back—but she can be rather shrill, and I’d rather not listen to her berating my sweet brother.”

The fighting continued. Krumpus squawked and cried as he struggled against Sephonie. Still, he wrestled well, and after a minute of suffering her hollow blows, he had the upper hand—until a child barely old enough to run, flopped through the door of the cabin and flailed down a couple steps. With an awkward jaunt, the tyke finally reached the shaman’s leg, then shrieked with the fury of a banshee and sunk her teeth in to healer’s calf muscle. A gurgling scream erupted from Krumpus as he turned his attention to the pint-sized attacker.

Another girl burst from the cabin, this one much older and larger than the first. “Pa!” she cried, recognizing her father immediately, then scolded her sister, as she pulled the tyke from his leg. “Aspen, you git them chompers for your own daddy’s flesh!” the older girl scolded—as Krumpus howled at the savage wound inflected by his youngest.

The little towhead biter turned on her older sister with wide eyes, then stared back at the man wrestling her mother. “Pa?” She blinked—then kicked and tried to free herself of her sister. “Pa!” she yelled and grabbed for him.

There was a bright smile on the shaman’s face as he stared back at the wild child. He lifted his arms so he might take the tyke from her sister—but given an opening, Sephonie grabbed Krumpus in a headlock and forced him back into the dirt.

Now both children begged their mother to stop—but the pleas fell on deaf ears as Sephonie continued to assault her husband. Suddenly, she paused in her cursing, and stared at his brittle hands. “What in the sweet name of Jeiju happened to you?!” She asked—then took several more potshots at the man—though they were no longer aimed at his soft spots.

“Sephonie…” Scurra reached for the woman.

“Don't you ‘Sephonie’ me!” she turned and glared at the sister. “He deserves this abuse and you know it!” she screeched.

“And you!” the vindictive little woman turned on Meu. “Are you the one he’s sleeping with?!” The small round woman glared daggers at the svelte redhead, as the older woman backed several steps. “You have the smell of a real man upon you,” she accused.

Meu backed a step.

Sephonie turned on Wenifas next and looked like she’d have at her too—but after one aggressive step, she recoiled from the priestess with wide eyes. “You have the curse upon you,” she began, “but not by my man!”

“The curse?” Wenifas wondered.

Then Sephonie’s eyes fell upon Evereste—and the child gave the lady a brilliant smile accompanied by an energetic squeal of delight. Sephonie lit up with pleasure. “Oh, what a precious treasure!” she said, and scratched at the girl’s cheek.

Krumpus mad the mistake of interrupting her. He set a gentle hand on her shoulder, only to have her turn on him and start the swinging again. “Who are these people, and why do you only consort with women?!” she shrieked. “Even the baby is female!”

“Sephonie!” Scurra shouted.

“Oh, leave off!” Sephonie said. “You can see he’s not even fighting back! He knows he deserves this!” She drove a nail under his collarbone and slapped his face—though there wasn’t much force behind either assault.

“SEPHONIE!” Scurra stepped in. “Our new friends must think us savages with this wild display! Are you not embarrassed?!” she scolded.

“Well, he should introduce them to someone that wants to met them,” she said as she glared at the strangers once more—though her eyes softened as she smiled at the babe yet again. With a snort, Sephonie reached down, grabbed Krumpus by the shirt, then dragged him back to the cottage. She pulled open the door, and led him inside, as she continued to lecture the entire time.

Shaking his head and giving a shrug, Krumpus limped after Sephonie as he allowed her to pull him inside. The older child and her little sister followed and let themselves in.

Scurra shook her head. “I feared it might be such a display.”

“Maybe we should go…” Wenifas pointed back up the ridge, toward the manse of Arza Trandhill. ‘If we go now, we can get back before it’s dark.”

Scurra shook her head. “Though I should have expected as much, I’d hoped she’d restrain herself in front of company.” She rolled her eyes as she pointed to the house with her thumb. “Still, the worst of it is over. Given a few more minutes, she might be downright civil.”

Why does he return to such a woman? Meu asked.

“My brother has always attracted the difficult sort—which is to say that it’s a complicated relationship. I just wish I didn’t get dragged into it too,” Scurra sighed. “But the ruckus only lasts so long. And likely as not they’ll give me another niece before my brother wonders off once more—with dreams of saving the world,” she rolled her eyes, then turned to the quiet house. “See?” she smirked. ”Listen.”

The three cocked their ears—though there was nothing to hear. Scurra put a finger to her lips, then tiptoed to the door, followed closely by Wenifas and Meu. They peaked inside. Sure enough, there was Krumpus and Sephonie, snogging, as their two children snickered.

Sephonie caught sight of the three intruders. She pulled away from Krumpus and rushed at the door. “Can’t a lady have a little privacy in her own house?!” she snapped. She turned on her children as they beamed at their reconciling parents. “Go see to the entertainment of our guests! Show them the berry patches, or the duck pond, or… something,” she carried off as she beamed at Krumpus. “Just—give us an hour!”

The two girls turned, smiled at their aunt, and rushed out the door—which closed with a bang. “Well then,” Scurra stopped the two girls. “Let us introduce you properly. This is Willow Yockupp,” she said of the older child.

“I’m Aspen!” the little one volunteered, before Scurra could finish her obligation.

“Yes,” Scurra smiled as she ruffled the girl’s hair. “This is Aspen.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the priestess smiled. “I’m Wenifas, this is Meu, and the little one is Evereste.”

Hearing her name, the babe squealed and raised her arms.

“Oh, she’s sweet!” Willow said, then put out her hands. “Can I hold her?”

Scurra gave the priestess a nod, then smiled as the older girl cuddled the babe close to her face. “Look at you, you little dumpling!” she beamed, then blew a raspberry on her cheek—which brought ecstatic peels of laughter from the babe.

Wenifas turned to find Aspen staring at her. The tyke leaned over to her aunt and whispered something.

Scurra smiled, and said, “Yes she is,” to the little girl. She winked at the preistess, then gave Aspen a soft swat on her butt. “Now be a good girl and show us to the strawberries.”

“What did she say?” Wenifas asked as the child skipped and giggled into the garden.

“She says you’re very pretty,” Scurra whispered—so the youngling wouldn’t hear her revealing secrets.

Wenifas blushed. She followed the trundling child, and realized she was quite happy to meet the shaman’s family—as eccentric as they were.

~!@#$%^&*()_+ 18.3 +_)(*&^%$#@!~

Toar wanted to be alone. No. Toar needed to be alone.

Jindleyak lands were nothing like he’d ever seen before, rich and prosperous. The people were numerous, humble, and so very friendly. They were the type of people one wants to be around. Indeed, they were the type of people one wants to be.

Which was all quite bothersome to the somber wanderer. Their prosperity highlighted his lack. He wondered how he could possibly live among them, and hoped the duke moved on quickly—so he might go too. This was no place for a miserable, dejected castaway, he thought. He needed to be upon his search once more.

Toar wandered the estate and found a hay shed where several goats and sheep made their beds. Back among the winter’s hay, he found several kittens, smart enough to be timid, but too new to the world to be out and out suspicious. Their mother was not around, and since he moved slow, the kittens warmed to him and allowed themselves to be scratched.

Despite wanting to be alone, Celesi was behind him. He didn’t know it until he heard her voice catch, right before she exclaimed, “Oh! Look at the babies!”

Toar turned and scowled, though the young lady ignored this sour act. For some reason, she never thought he was scowling at her, that the scowl was somehow for the rest of the world, even though he showed it to her plenty when they were alone.

“Oh, aren’t they precious?!” she beamed as she crawled into the hay, and tempted the kittens with soft hands. “You sweet babies!”

Several of the critters scampered off and hid, though a few figured the new intruder was just as good as the last. “Meowr?” they questioned, as she slowly approached.

Celesi glowed as she gathered a kitten in her hands and scratched behind its ears. The tiny creature grabbed at a finger and gnawed it with sharp, but wholly insufficient, teeth.

“You miserable beast!” she laughed as she tickled its belly. “Oh, Toar!” she smiled with excitement and longing in her voice. “Isn’t this place perfect?!”

He shrugged and refused to face her. “A little too perfect,” he grumbled.

Celesi tsked. “Don’t be such a sour puss,” she reprimanded. “Its unbecoming.”

Feeling irritated and frank, Toar turned to Celesi and glowered. “What do you want?!” he snapped.

With a snort, she stared at him, suddenly serious. “Are you really so thick?” she asked and continued to stare for several long seconds. “You,” she finally blinked and smiled. “I want you, you dummy.” She leaned forward and tried to kiss him.

Toar veered away, and crashed back in the hay—so he might avoid her lips—as kittens scampered out from under his falling form.

Celesi pulled up short, one hand on her hip, the other stretched out to Toar, that he might take it, and thereby apologize for hurting her feelings. “Really?” she began. “Does my affection displease you so?”

Toar stared back at her. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he replied.

“Of course I know,” she answered, her hand upon his knee as she stared back at the petulant guide. “I ask that you love me.”

“You don’t know what you ask,” Toar repeated, tears swelling in his eyes, as he lay, frozen beneath her touch.

“I’ve spent the last several years groomed for the sexual pleasure of my enemies,” Celesi stared back. “Although I’ve never known a lover’s touch, I’ve more exposure than I care for,” she settled several errant strands behind her ear. “I realize that a meaningful love must be difficult at times,:” she continued. “I know that it will require us both to be at our best, but I am happy to devote myself to such work—to you,” she said as she climbed over and pressed herself upon him. “Don’t resist,” she urged and kissed his lips. “I win, you win. What’s not to like?”

“Celesi…,” he protested with tears thick in his eyes.

She couldn’t imagine why. Was she not young and becoming? She was certainly eager! What sort of a man would push her away? She wondered if perhaps she was not nearly as pretty as she hoped, as so many had proffered, including the duke. Were they simply being nice? But she could not believe that! Not since Meriona had taken her in. Meriona was too cold and calculating, and had often made comments about her unusual beauty.

Yet, Toar did not find her enticing—and that was all that mattered.

“Please,” Celesi begged him. “Please love me,” she breathed and pressed against him, in hopes that his desire might swell. They were alone and she loved him so. If he wanted, she would have him now. She knew what she was asking—of the dangers it entailed. Indeed, she hoped he might put a child inside her, and then become the father that such a beautiful baby deserved. She kissed his lips.

He stared back at her, frightened and almost out of his wits. As she pressed upon him, he did not even pucker.

She could tell there was no interest as she pressed her hips into his. She could feel his frame beneath her, but all she felt was his agitation. Something was off. Why was he so full of tears? She pulled away. “What am I missing?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

“I can’t!” Toar exclaimed. “I can’t be that man!” he snapped at her. It seemed an accusation.

Something obvious and terrible was escaping Celesi, something that her mind wasn’t willing to admit, and she began to wonder if she really wanted to know…

…still, she pressed. “I don’t understand,” Celesi replied, shaken, suddenly feeling like she’d betrayed and injured him. Why was he so mad at her—and why did she feel like she deserved it?! She knew he was hiding something—and somehow she had discovered it—even though she had not yet managed to wrap her mind around it… “tell me,” she begged.

“I’ve never been whole!” Toar exclaimed. “One does not come up among a house of concubines fully intact! Not as a man!” He raged. “Would you see what I am missing?!” he snarled as his hands reached for his fly.

Aghast, she put her hands on his. “No,” she gasped. “No!”

Still beneath her, Toar turned his face. “This is a world of filth and hostility.”

“How could they do such a thing?!” she said between her fingers, shocked by what he’d revealed. She shook here head, unwilling to believe it, her own tears rising in her eyes. “Why?!”

“Why do you think?” he glared. “It they’d managed to sell you among the Baradha, do you think your new master would allow such a prize to wander among the man servants, bored and neglected?! No. Those men would not be men.”

Aghast, Celesi could say nothing.

Suddenly, Toar was a stone beneath her. He grabbed her by the wrists with a tight grip, hurting her. “You tell anyone,” he snarled, “and I’ll kill you.”

“I wouldn’t!” Celesi promised. “I could never…!” Her tears were so thick she could barely see. “I’m so sorry!” she pleaded and threw herself upon him once more. “I didn’t mean to pry! I’ve always thought the world of you!” she bawled. “I’ll always love you! You’re still man enough for me!”

“What’s the point?” Toar said back to her, once more cool and dispassionate. “I’ll never be the man you need. Not in all the ways you want.”

She wanted to say that wasn’t so, that sex wasn’t everything—and yet, she knew he was right. She couldn’t settle for a loveless existence. She wanted the touch of a man, the feel of an honest love. She needed to gift her lover with babies.

It was all too much. Celesi pulled herself up, and through a flood of tears, fled from the shed. She wasn’t surprised when Toar didn’t follow.

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