Born of Courage, page 11
Lillanya reached cautiously for her boot knife, taking great care not to rock the ladder again. Not the best piece of equipment she had ever seen but better than nothing. She drew a thin line over her palm, letting tiny red beads drop into the ceramic pot she had stolen from Meesa’s kitchen. She swirled it around for good measure and retraced the lines and swirls, recapturing the essence of her drawing. She placed her cut hand up to the keystone marking and breathed out a prayer that this would work, placing her hopes into the painting before her.
Heat grew under her hand and shimmered out along the wall in a rolling wave headed in both directions. The glimmer danced almost imperceptible to the eye. It was like looking at a spider web after a heavy rain, delicately present, but so very hard to see unless you looked at it from just the right angle. She peered back down at Merrick, her smirk growing as his scowl deepened.
“Can you understand me now?” she asked smugly, bubbly laughter bursting from her chest at his surprised look.
“Does that mean you are coming down now?” he returned, his voice dark and gruff, not sharing her delighted amusement until she had both feet firmly back on the ground.
The heavy leather book slammed into the hard packed earth next to him in response causing little tufts of dirt to swirl over his boots. He glanced up to see the sway of tightly clad curvy hips descending towards him, his breath catching in response. Merrick stepped away as her feet found firmer ground, mindful of his decision to keep his distance from her, but his vigilant eyes caught the smear of blood on the ladder. Merrick snagged her sleeve smartly, rolling her palm over to get a better look, but she just brushed it off. Her glee at making whatever this was work, overwhelming her self preservation as she chattered at him.
“Come on, you can’t tell me that this isn’t great. We can actually understand one another now.”
He frowned at her hand, taking great care not to touch her skin directly. Raising a prudent eyebrow as he pulled a strip of cloth from his sheath.
“You couldn’t do this without cutting yourself?” he admonished, his disapproval at her methods clear enough.
Lil’s eyebrows drew together, his tone only slightly dampening her mood.
“Well it didn’t work the way it was supposed to, so I improvised. But it worked, so,” she trailed off, her shoulder raising in a half shrug.
“Hmmm,” was all Merrick managed as he wrapped the linen around her cut, effectively staunching the blood flow without making contact with her skin.
The hall door cursorily caught her attention as it slammed open, allowing the trouble-maker who harassed Meesa the day before to wander out unsteadily. His cutting look assessing them critically as he harrumphed past.
“Savage,” slurred from his lips as he stumbled past them to the stables.
Lillanya scowled at the man’s rude behavior, while Merrick refused to even look up. Lil eye’s swung back to study Merrick carefully, his motions meticulously executed to be normal as if he hadn’t just been deeply insulted. Okay, that’s a bit odd. If it had been her, she would have had a few choice words to say to the man. But this – she thought suspiciously, this is what people do when it happens all the time. Her gaze centered on Merrick as he moved off to pick up his sword from the ground, left there in the haste of getting to her.
“I need to get practicing,” he said distantly and made his way off to the side yard, never looking back once at her. Lil watched him go before pivoting to follow the Sorum man into the stables. She didn’t trust that guy one bit and as she sidled up to the stable doorway, she knew she had been right. The Sorum man was harassing whomever was inside. She skirted just inside the door frame, catching a quick glimpse of the Sorum man leaning into Varus, his big Dagmore frame cowering comically away. Varus could have easily smashed that guy with one hand, but he seemed like a gentle soul, unlike his grandmother. Her rolling pin would have done Varus some good.
“I don’t know how a mongrel like you managed to get inside these gates, but you’re going to be dog meat as soon as I get you outside. That witch can’t protect you forever.” He moved aggressively towards the young man whose face was a mix of fear and worry.
“What does she use you for? Are you her pet? You can’t be useful for anything else.” He glanced at Varus with a sneer, making an ugly gesture, “unless you’re also her play thing, just like that demon out there?”
Lil growled low in her throat, her vision clouding with rage at yet another person under her care being accosted by this man. She grabbed the bulky sheave block hanging next to her on the post and heaved it at the back of his head. All those years of practicing with James, her aim was true enough to connect with a sickening thud. His plastered form crumbled to the ground in a scraggly heap, the block rolling away covered in blood.
“What happened?” Everett’s voice boomed, his head popping into the stables behind her, taking in the scene before him.
Lil paused, thinking wildly before turning. She painted a shocked look on her face, her voice artificially high. “Oh my goodness!” she waved her hands at the ceiling for measured effect. “This block just dropped from the ceiling and bashed him in the head. We need to get him some help!”
Everett quirked a rusty eyebrow dubiously at her words but remained thankfully silent, seemingly unwilling to challenge her fabrication. He meandered forward to pick up the groaning man struggling to get to his feet, dragging him towards the keep. Everett’s gentle ministrations leaving something to be desired.
Varus stood against the back wall, still trying to make himself unnoticeable. Lil’s heart went out to him, he was too sweet to be out in this world or apparently alone in her keep with these backward gits.
“Varus,” she began kindly. “I’ve been meaning to come out here and thank you for the wonderful care you have been taking of the horses. It really means a lot to me that you would do that.” She edged forward, noticing a small bed in a side stall, her jaw clenching at her repeated stupidity in caring for the welfare of these people she invited into her home.
“You know, you and your grandmother are welcome to stay in the main hall, there are several rooms available. You don’t need to stay out here alone.” She watched as he shook his head vigorously, unwilling to consider such an option. “There are also rooms in the sentry tower, which may be more to your liking.” But his head was already rocking back and forth before she could finish her sentence.
“I like it out here,” Varus said as he blushed, “with the horses. They don’t give me no trouble.”
She glanced again into the stall, taking in his provisions, the makeshift straw bed and one threadbare blanket, more moth eaten than not.
“Okay,” she said tenderly, “I’m going to bring you some things to make you more comfortable, is that alright?”
Varus assessed her offer carefully before nodding slightly, making sure he wasn’t accepting something his grandmother wouldn’t like. Lil turned and gazed into the canny eyes of Merrick, another unwanted visitor come to investigate the noise.
She smiled subversively, slipping past his strong form filling the doorway. Merrick couldn’t be bothered this time to move out of her way, forcing her to flatten herself in order to pass him by. Two could play this game. Their eyes met briefly as he watched her theatrics. A tiny smile quirking his lips into a kissable curve, distracting her as she worked to appear innocent of any wrongdoing.
Lil escaped into the courtyard. “Silliness,” she chided herself as she approached the hall steps, where Everett had dumped the trouble making man. A gathering of concerned Sorum faces was starting to grow at the spectacle Everett was creating however. Time for crowd control.
“Can you please go get me some water, we need to put a compress on his head. That old stable is a deathtrap, stuff just keeps falling off the walls,” she chattered excitedly. “Your friend is lucky, after walking into that pillar, he must have bumped something loose.” She rambled seamlessly, her tones quick and even to conceal any deceit. “I am going to get that place looked at the first chance I get.” She raised her hands in concession as she accepted the pale of water and a clean cloth, mollifying the concerned voices she heard.
She rang the cloth out and lightly pasted it over the rising bump mounding on the drunkard’s head, stemming the blood. More than he deserved, but she wanted them all out of her house with the least amount of fuss.
A whistle sounded high above their head of riders advancing on the gates, distracting the crowd from her tale. Shouts of Rourke’s arrival spurred his men into action, unlashing the crossbeam from the door that was blocking it shut without even waiting for her permission. She frowned. Definitely time for them to go.
The belligerent man moaned as he began to come around, his head undoubtedly pounding from all her ‘help’. She scanned over her shoulder as Rourke rode proud and tall into the yard, his horse pawing the ground defiantly, eager to keep moving. Rourke swung briskly from his braided saddle, the only ornate thing about his massive war horse, and strode towards her with purpose.
“What happened here?” he demanded. “Were you attacked again?”
Lil was surprised that Rourke’s concern for her safety seemed genuine as he took stock of his man. “There was an accident in the stables, a block fell from the wall and hit him in the head. He should be fine, if not a little dizzy for a few hours,” she murmured evenly. “The scratch is superficial.” He nodded promptly, accepting her statements forthright to her great relief.
“Were you successful at reaching others?” she inquired calmly, evaluating the shape of his stern face as he pulled her gently aside from the rest of his men.
“No, we weren’t. We found the men further south from Erium house, but they’re divided and unwilling to help us or anyone besides themselves. Cowards!” he spat, his anger rising as he remembered the way they laughed when he asked for their help. “Their new leader, Mosseraut, is a miscreant that should crawl back under the rock from which he came.” He was still fuming that they would refuse to aid against a common enemy, but Rourke knew their family head was gone, lost like so many in the battles. The legacy of a once great family, destroyed.
“We need to return home, but I would like to leave the men with you for your safety.” He glanced at Ephraim, intending to order him to stay without waiting for her response.
Lil placed a hand on his arm. “That won’t be necessary.”
Rourke’s face tightened at her continued refusal to accept his aid. “You have limited men, and once again you have taken people in that would do you harm.” His eyes shifted sideways to eye Merrick’s position relative to his own. “Far be it from me to tell you whom to accept within your walls, but that man is Ranjor, in case you’re not aware, and he is dangerous.” He whispered fervently, keeping their conversation between him.
“Don’t worry so much about what’s under my roof, but your own. That man,” she nodded towards her injured foe, “is trouble.”
Rourke laughed lightly. “Trying to encourage disparity, are you?”
Lil arched her brow, her lips flattening with the absence of her normal good humor. “He does not bring honor to the house of Sorum.” Rourke sobered at her tone watching her eyes shine with a surreal light.
“Alright,” he began slowly, “I’ll watch him and make my own judgment.” He cocked his head to the side, reading her face. “And what about you?”
Her lips twitched subtly. “I will watch and make my own judgment as well. Besides, you’re never far away, are you?”
Rourke gently pulled her hand up into his and bowed formally, bringing the back of her hand up until it just touched his lips.
“Until next time,” he said softly, his breath playing against her skin, sending goosebumps up her flesh. The simple gesture earning him a smile as he rose, calling to his men to mount their horses. Ephraim dutifully assisting his wounded comrade onto the horse behind him, to ensure he got home. Rourke glanced one last time at her atop his broad horse, nodding roguishly before leading his company out of her gates, their horses kicking up a dust cloud in their haste to return home.
Lillanya gathered up her bucket of supplies and moved off into the hall, ready to start the day and put this whole business with Rourke’s men behind her. Her distraction was so great, she didn’t see Merrick staring darkly at her back, irked that she would allow that blond behemoth to touch her so familiarly. Her hand still tingled from Rourke’s old-fashioned gesture.
Maybe not so old-fashioned, she debated silently with herself.
Meesa watched the company leave with a sign of relief as she headed towards the orchards. Her aged shoulders wrapped tightly in a woolly shawl to keep out the morning coolness. The orchard didn’t usually warm until mid-afternoon, making it rather crisp this time of day with little dew drops clinging to the staunch green leaves. Lil noticed her go and her eyes crinkled with a hint of mischief. The opportunity had finally presented itself for her to move Meesa’s things into a real bedroom.
Lillanya reappeared sometime later in the kitchens to find Messa and Merrick peeling apples in affable silence. Both making quick work with their blades, efficiently peeling the bright pink skin off into little curls, an unspoken competition to outdo one another with their length. Not wanting to disrupt their efforts, Lil spotted an open spot on the counter between bushels of sweet smelling apples and sacks of earthy flour. She hoisted herself up onto the well worn counter to watch, snagging a stray fruit from the basket nearest her. The simple activity of their efforts was soothing to watch. The crisp flicks of their wrists as they carved the skins, peeking covertly to watch the other’s progress.
Lil warmed at the interaction and munched happily on her stolen goods, the tartness surprising her.
Meesa slid off her stool and gathered a bucket mumbling something about “water,” leaving before they could stop her. Lil’s eyes lit with merriment as Merrick walked to a wall and pulled a small lever, allowing water to run from behind an ornately decorated copper plate that acted as a trap door in the wall. The water gurgling down a short stone open mouthed chute, and into a basin that was resting before it.
“Do you think she knows it’s there?,” curiosity getting the better of Lil. “It’s a pretty ingenious system. The pipes must run past my room, because I can hear the sound of running water when it storms hard.”
Merrick countered with one of his enigmatic looks, never giving anything away. Always guarded against the next thing in life.
“Rourke mentioned you were Ranjor,” she started casually, her vision never leaving his face, “and that I should be careful. Why is that?”
Merrick watched as her lips moved with the conversation he dreaded coming. Why would she ask him such a thing? If she already knew what he was, she should damn well know why he was dangerous. Was this a test? Was she just toying with him to see how he would respond? Sweet girls like her shouldn’t play games with big bad wolves. He carefully set his knife on the table where she could see, dragging his hand away from his task deliberately so she could watch him move predatorily towards where she sat. This girl needed a lesson in playing games and he was going to give her one, he thought, his mind murmuring to him that this was a really bad idea. This was an uncalculated risk in which he was more likely to get hurt than she was, but he couldn’t help himself as he drew nearer to her, caught up in the chase. His eyes growing darker as he centered on his prey. Merrick slid between her open leather clad legs, stopping inches from her face as he placed both hands on either side of her hips. His fingers splayed along the rough countertop, so close, but never touching. He wasn’t that crazy – yet.
“You should be careful,” his tone soft and dark, sending chills up her arms, “because I hunt people like you.” He glanced at her full lips, begging to be touched by more than just succulent fruit. Her short shallow breaths caressing his lips, begging him closer.
She cocked her head slightly and leaned forward until there was an imperceptible amount of air between them. “You are definitely a predator,” she said breathlessly, “but it’s not me you’re hunting. Sadly.” She said the last in a whisper.
His pupils dilated to pinpricks, his focus entirely surrounding this woman, forgetting the reason he was playing this game. Oh, he thought, he was definitely hunting her. Just maybe not for the same reasons he should be.
A clunk sounded from the hall as Meesa smacked her heavy bucket to the floor and picked it back up. Her weary bones and heavy burden giving her plenty of reasons to pause. Lil spun her head to peer down the hall as Merrick reappeared at the center table in a flash. The loss of the warmth of his body leaving a void that had her heart sighing a little at its departure.
Meesa angled the sturdy bucket into the doorway, her small frame trying to balance it while keeping her shawl ends from dipping inside. Lil leaped down from her perch and ambled over to snag the brim full bucket, emboldened by her encounter with Merrick.
“I got it,” she chirped.
Meesa’s wise eyes narrowed suspiciously at Merrick’s passively deceptive face. The old woman wagged a finger at Lillanya, “I noticed some of my things were missing, Missy. Don’t think I didn’t notice. If you don’t want me around, just better say so.”
Lil couldn’t help but smile at her righteous and forthright tone. So used to putting youngsters in their place, she was every bit what Lil thought a grandmother would be, if she ever had one.
She snuck a key from her inner vest pocket, laying it flat into Meesa’s weathered outstretched hand. The delicate curve of the ornate handled brass key amusing her, with its intricately carved swirls overlapping into a clover design, all tracing onto the blade of the key.
“I moved all your things into the first room on the left,” Lil said serenely. “I thought you would be more comfortable in there and with this,” she nodded her tawny head towards the delicate key.
