Duty: a novel of Rhynan (34 page)

“Of course,” she said from right behind me. “On
guard.”

A wooden club whizzed past my head. Striking the wall
inches past my shoulder, it clattered to the floor. I stared for a
second. Gone was the quiet, withdrawn woman I thought I knew. Hair
wrapped around her head, stripped to her leather jerkin,
shirtsleeves, and leggings, she moved like a sleek cat, feminine,
yet deadly. Confidence radiated from her as she whipped another
cudgel into her dominant hand.

“Remember what I do for a living.”

She advanced and I retreated to the fallen weapon.
Scooping it into my hand, I swung it up into a defensive stance
seconds before she struck at my shoulder.

I retaliated with a series of strokes that should
have reduced her to begging for leniency. Instead, she met me hit
for hit, backing away into the center of the room. Although she
gave ground, I grew wary. She was holding back. Fury boiled in my
belly.

I changed my attack. After feinting to the left, I
jabbed at her right. She took advantage of a small defensive
weakness and landed the first blow, a hard jar to the ribs. I
renewed my onslaught, taking a risk. She saw the move and
sidestepped at the last moment, dancing out of my reach. Breathing
hard, we faced each other.

“The point of this was for me to work out some
frustration.”

“I know.”

“This is hardly satisfying.”

She laughed, a clear sound that echoed in the
rafters. “I am not about to submit to a beating just to help your
frustration level. I will help you wear yourself out, though.” She
leapt forward and attacked again.

Coming Soon

(a short story)

An excerpt -

Three days later, I rose from bed. The
afternoon sun shone beyond the lattice, beckoning me. The sight
nurtured an already restless spirit into mobility. I was intent on
a turn in the garden, at least a semblance of freedom for my
tortured soul. My body still ached and sudden changes threw my
balance, but I fixed my purpose and pressed forward.

Ealdine, having used two of the three
allotted hours on breaking fast and serving the midday meal, would
not return until after nightfall. That gave me time to creep down
the stairs to sit in the sun at least.

Walking across the warped floor boards proved
an uneventful task. However, upon opening the door to the sight of
the steep descent to the ground two levels below, my grasp of
balance wavered. I dropped to sit on the doorsill and lowered my
head into my hands.

“Might I assist you?”

I lifted my head and instantly regretted
it.

“Steady, miss, steady. Don’t go toppling on
me. I don’t wish another death on my account.”

I blinked in the sunlight, struggling to
place the source of the voice. Finally, a movement brought my focus
to where the stairs spilled into the garden. He stood, left boot on
the first step. Gaining only an impression of graying brown hair
and sun-browned hands, I lowered my head once again.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Bryn Wolfe of Ardenstain. And you?”

“I am Verity Favian.”

“Ah, you are the maid in the tower. I was
warned about you.” He stepped off the bottom of the stairs and
leaned against the tower wall, his face still in shadow.

“What warning?”

“’The maid yonder has a shrewish
tongue.’”

“Hardly a warning since I am already
betrothed. If you no wish to listen, you can leave.”

“Ah, so I heard. It is to the Silvaticus, the
crazed.”

Straightening my shoulders, I glared down at
him for a moment. “I will not allow you to speak thus of my
betrothed.”

Surprise brought back his head. He lifted his
face to the sun to peer at me. The light revealed tan skin and a
cloth patch strapped to his face where his left eye should have
been. It was a countenance one would remember. I knew almost every
man in my brother’s service. This scarred man was a stranger.

“You know your husband-to-be then?”

“Nay.”

“Then why prevent me from speech when I speak
truth born of knowledge?”

“It is not fitting to speak thus of others.”
I peered at him from my perch. “You are not of my brother’s
men.”

“Nay, I arrived with the men sent ahead to
prepare the way for Silvaticus.”

My back tingled, suspicion bringing my pride
to bear. “You are here to evaluate the goods,” I accused. “Why else
would you be permitted to speak with me?”

“I was not permitted.”

“Then why are you here?” My head ached. I
normally enjoyed verbal play. Today it made me dizzy.

“At the moment? To offer aid. I spotted you
at the door and witnessed your stagger. I feared you would tumble
down the stairs.”

“Silvaticus would be sorry to lose such
choice coastline,” I observed.

“Nay, I didn’t wish to see you break your
fair neck.”

Contrary to my expectation, he didn’t look at
me as he delivered the sweetened line. Despite the fact I believed
he did not mean them, the words still warmed my cheeks and burned
my ears. What business did a servant have speaking such to a maid?
The answer was none, yet I was pleased.

I brushed aside the notion without much
thought. It was simply the delusions of a woman barren of the hope
of love. Attention starved, I swooned at the smallest turn of a
pleasant phrase.

I intended to give Bryn Wolfe a rebuke only
to find him gone. No sign of him remained. As Ealdine’s voice
called to me from within, I resolved to not mention the
stranger.

I rubbed my throbbing temples. I didn’t
believe I dreamed him, but considering the condition of my head, I
preferred caution.

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