Stars' Light, page 10
“Damn. More bad timing.” He stood.
Analia came close and took the note from her husband’s hand. “Kiril is near the Borderlands. Why is he there?”
“I sent him to track some news about some demons. With all that is going on here, I forgot to send word to him, and now he’s found some.”
Analia could see that Jorian was concerned. “Take her with you. You can train her on the trip. She’ll be safe with you.”
Jorian frowned again. “She doesn’t even know how to ride or care for a horse. Not possible for her to come.”
“She can ride Atlas. He will take good care of her, and you can train her to ride and care for the horses on the way. It will be good for her.”
Jorian paused for a moment. It would be good to get her away from any real distractions for the beginning of her training. “I’ll start getting things ready. Have Olivia send word to the Tatara manor that as soon as Sarannya arrives, she is to come here.”
“I’ll take care of it.” She turned and headed back up the hill towards the house.
Jorian turned back to Zeus. “Off to the aviary with you. You can rest for a bit and get some food. I have work for you.”
Zeus stepped forward and raised his head up. Jorian bent down and brought his forehead to Zeus’s and rubbed both sides of his head. “Off you go! Get some food and rest.” Jorian stepped back a bit to give Zeus room. Zeus leapt into the air with a powerful down sweep of his wings. In just a moment, he was circling above Jorian and gave a cry. He then turned and headed towards the aviary.
Sarannya loaded the last of the items into the carriage, and Acilius loaded the larger gear on the back and top of the wagon. She had really enjoyed her shopping trip. It was the first time she did not have to watch how much money she was spending. They just gave her the items. She assumed that Lord Bral would be paying the bill. None of the shopkeepers had asked her for money, but all had known what to do without instructions. She was heading back to Emmerich’s shop to pick up her clothes. Emmerich had taken her card and given her another one to take to the saddle maker. Then the saddle maker’s wife had given her another card to take to the outfitter. It was all kind of confusing, but she had made it through.
She rode in the cart in a daze. All of her cards were gone. She was really tired. She had been measured, poked, prodded, and picked at. She was not quite sure what all this stuff was for, but she hoped it would help her in her training. Every time she was thinking she had made a mistake, she would picture holding Shadow and smile.
Once she arrived back, she quickly entered Emmerich’s shop to see a large pile of clothes stacked up on a table near the door. Emmerich and his wife came out.
“Ah, there you are. All of your items are finished. You shall be well outfitted for your travels,” he said, patting the folded clothes.
Sarannya stood, her grey eyes blinking rapidly in surprise. “You’re already finished?” she asked. Normally, when her mother ordered new gowns they took weeks.
“We work very quickly here, my lady,” Emmerich said with a soft smile. “And it would bring great pleasure to me if you would take this card.” He held a new black, embossed card out to her. “I have very much enjoyed making clothes for you, and I would like to make them for you in the future.”
“Oh, thank you.” Sarannya said, accepting the card as Rania approached her.
Emmerich helped Acilius take her new clothes out to the carriage while Rania spoke privately to Sarannya. “Now, we included a soft wrap for your breasts. When done right, it will hold everything in place. It will make your riding and training more comfortable.” She smiled.
Sarannya nodded, not really paying attention to what Rania was saying. She was thinking what it was going to be like training, wearing her sword, and becoming a legend. “Of course, thank you very much,” she said automatically.
“You should have Lady Alena help you dress for the first time or two. It will help.” Rania patted Sarannya on the back like a mother as Sarannya moved out the door toward the carriage.
Emmerich stood next to his wife, watching the carriage leave. He turned to Rania. “May God be with her. May God be with us. We may be entering some interesting times.” He stepped back into his shop.
Rania followed him. “She’s so young.” She closed the door behind her.
Sarannya’s carriage came to a stop near the back entrance of the Tal residence. Acilius quickly jumped down and bowed before Lady Tal, having received her message via the Essences. Sarannya waited for the door to open before stepping down in confusion. She apprehensively bowed to the Lady Alena Tal. “I am confused.” Why had they come here, instead of returning home?
“There has been a development, and you will be traveling with the General. I will help you get dressed.” Alena held her hand out. Sarannya took it, and her stomach started to tumble.
“I don…I do not understand. I have not even started training yet. I cannot possibly go. What about my parents?” Her voice was getting more panicked.
“Don’t you worry. I have already spoken with your parents, and you get to ride a horse. And not just any horse, a Tellurean horse.” Alena smiled, knowing this would likely stop any complaint or argument.
Sarannya grew quiet, following Lady Tal into the house, where she was led to a room that was clearly for preparation and dressing. This was really happening. Sarannya looked around at the empty sword stands, placed on each windowsill throughout the room. There was a bench for her to sit on and an alcove where her clothes would go. It looked like a group of ten could dress and prepare for war here. She inspected the stained glass windows that depicted moments of battle with mounted knights on horses, and a particularly large window was of a dragon and rider looking down at the battlefield. The room was done in marble and soft velvet for the cushions and rugs. She turned back to Lady Tal with a questioning look.
“This is the ancestral home of the Tal’s. It was not only for ceremonial events, but for training and housing new knights. You will learn more as time goes on. Right now, we need to get you dressed and ready to go. The General is not a man that likes to wait when others could be in danger.” Sarannya nodded, and began undressing with Lady Tal’s help.
There was a knock at the door. “Are you ladies decent?” The General asked.
“Yes, you may enter,” Analia answered.
Analia turned to her husband. “She is almost ready.” There was a smile as she glanced down at the short sword he was holding in his hand.
He returned the smile and moved toward the center of the room. He stood for a moment, inspecting Sarannya. He moved forward and tucked the short sword into her belt. It was tied around her waist three times as was customary. It was snug and would stay secure even while riding. “Since you are not yet trained, you will learn to keep this blade clean. You will learn how to move, ride, and otherwise exist with a blade at all times. When you relieve yourself, you will have this blade with you. You will never be without it. Do you understand?” His tone and face were serious, but there was a glint of a smile in his eyes.
“Yes, Lord Bral. I understand.” She bowed her head, not knowing what else to do.
“General will be fine. Again, you don’t need to be formal with me.” He quickly crossed the room. “Horses are ready. We are leaving.” He spoke over his shoulder, exiting the room.
Analia smiled. “You had better get going. You do not want to be late for your first adventure.”
Sarannya jumped up and rushed out of the room. She could move better than she thought. All of the undergarments were a soft brushed fabric, the likes of which she had never seen or felt before. It was soft and warm against her skin, but allowing her to move freely, even though her bust was held in place. There was nothing bouncing around. It felt very liberating for everything to be held in place. This was much different than a corset or her other clothes, which seemed to be designed to be restrictive and decorative. These were functional, and there was a flow to them. Is this how boys feel?
She stepped out into the late afternoon sun and stood staring at two large horses. Each was saddled, and she could see her brand new gear already packed on the back of a white and grey speckled horse.
Analia came out behind Sarannya and moved to Atlas, taking hold of the reins. She leaned forward, and he touched foreheads with her. “Treat her well. Protect her as if she is one of us. Will you do this for me?” Atlas raised his head and looked at Sarannya. “I need you to do this for me,” Analia whispered. Atlas nodded his head and whinnied, touching foreheads with Analia. She smiled. “Good boy. I know that you will take good care of her, like you do me. I’ll have a treat for you when you get back.” She smiled, looking up at him and rubbing the side of his face.
Sarannya moved towards the large horse. Fear gripped her. She had never ridden a horse. Women did not ride horses. It was unladylike. This was going to be amazing. Her thoughts were flying around so quickly in her head that she just stood there and gawked, until she was prompted to get into the saddle by a nudge on the shoulder from Lady Alena.
Atlas was patient while Analia helped Sarannya to mount. “Just hold on to the reins and allow Atlas to lead the way. He’ll follow Titan wherever Titan goes. You just sit back and enjoy the ride,” Analia instructed, tapping Sarannya’s leg to reassure her.
Analia watched as her husband and Sarannya crested the hill and disappeared from sight. It was a sight she had seen many times over the eons, but this was a turning point.
“They are off?”
“They are.” Analia turned to Azarai and bowed.
“And so it begins. The game is afoot.” He walked up and stood beside her.
“Is everything prepared?” Analia asked, looking back to where her husband and Sarannya had disappeared.
“It is.”
They stood together in silence for some time, just watching the sun set.
CHAPTER TEN
Saranya gingerly walked to where the camp fire was burning. Her bedroll was unrolled and sandwiched between two squares of canvas. She winced as she sat down. Her whole body hurt. She could hardly bend over. The General moved about easily, as if he had not sat in the saddle the whole day. Her butt hurt, her legs and calves hurt, and her lower back hurt from getting bounced in the saddle.
“Here, drink this. It will help relax you. Tomorrow is going to be a long day of riding as well.”
Sarannya reached out and took the mug from him. She noted that it was old and dented. The pot looked even older, but well cared for. In fact, all of the General’s gear looked old but well cared for. She leaned back against a log, wincing, and took a sip. She smiled, looking up at him. “Thank you. This is really good.” She could already feel her body relaxing a bit as the fire of the alcohol made its way through her.
“My wife’s recipe.” He smiled back. “Eventually, you’ll get used to riding, and it won’t hurt anymore. You did well today.”
Sarannya did not know what to say. She had felt like a failure just sitting on her horse and doing nothing. Although, she had learned how to take the saddle off, rub the horses down, feed them, water them, and otherwise get them ready to rest. That was all before they set up their bedrolls and prepared a meal. “Thank you. It is nice of you to say, although, I did not really do anything. Atlas did all the work,” she replied over the brim of her mug. She was still uncomfortable about this whole causal speak thing.
She could smell the stew cooking, and it smelled wonderful. She took another sip.
“Have you done this type of thing before?” Jorian asked.
“You mean like riding horses?”
“No. Sleeping outside; cooking over an open fire.”
“Oh. I mean…yes, when I was a kid. Well…I mean before I was forced to wear dresses.”
“So, you didn’t want to wear dresses?” Jorian took another sip from his cup, staring at her over the top of the fire.
“Not really. As you have probably guessed, I have always wanted to be a warrior, to hold a sword, and to know how to use it.” She stared back, gaining a little courage. “I always felt like I should have been a boy.”
“Why? I mean, what’s the root of your desire to be a warrior, to hold and master the sword?”
“Warriors have always taken hold of their own destiny. They can talk, and people listen.”
“Because if people don’t listen, warriors kill them?” Jorian laughed.
Sarannya paused for a moment, insulted. “No!” She shook her head and sat up. “I want everyone to be able to pick their own path. To be able to decide for themselves what they want to do, and to not have another say yes or no because they are a girl.”
“What about your brother, Dusan? Do you think he really wants to take over the Tatara family from your father? Do you think he might have his own ideas and dreams for his future?”
Sarannya nodded her head, thoughtful. She had not thought of it like this before. “I am sure that he does, but it was always expected…” She stopped with a serious expression on her face.
“It was expected. Much like what society expects from women, isn’t it?”
Sarannya remained silent, thinking back through all of the expectations of her family in just normal, everyday experiences.
“Expectations. A serious mistake most people make, even ones that know better. They sneak up on us and get inside. Then, when life doesn’t go the way we expect, we get angry. We make the lives of those around us miserable, and we say things that are hurtful. A true warrior doesn’t have expectations. They take life for what it is, and ride the flow to the next moment.” He paused to stir the stew. “This is why I decided that you should come with me on this trip. I didn’t want you sitting at home, thinking about what training would be like when I got back. I wanted you immersed in it from the beginning, with little time to create a mental image of what you ‘think’ it to be, versus what it really is.
“You will find, Sarannya, that what we think, is almost never what it really it is. You could think the sword is coming from one angle, when in fact, it is coming from another. Then you’re dead. A true warrior understands how to move and flow with life, so they are never caught unaware. It is like riding the horse. There is a flow to the gait and movement of the horse. You were not in that flow, thus your body hurts. Combat is the same.” He glanced over the fire at her. She was listening intently. He pulled the pot off the fire and took a little taste. Nodding to himself, he looked up. “I think it’s done. Get your bowl.”
Sarannya was still thinking about what she had just been told. She leaned over and opened her saddle bag, pulling out her shiny new wood bowl, and handed it to the General. He put stew in it and then filled his own. She sat back and took a sip. “Good, but it needs some salt.”
Jorian pointed to two small bags. “Salt and pepper are right there.”
Sarannya smiled and took them, seasoning her stew and taking a few taste tests, before putting the salt and pepper back. “So, this was my first lesson.” It was a statement more than a question, as it was pretty obvious.
“Yes,” Jorian replied between mouthfuls of stew.
“How do you learn to not have expectations?”
“Expectations are a form of judgement. You judge ‘whatever it is’ will go a certain way or be a specific experience. And then when it doesn’t, we humans, are generally angry, frustrated, disappointed, and so on. You must learn to not judge. This is a very difficult thing, as our very language is judgmental.” He paused for a moment, feeling out if she was understanding. She was only sixteen, but there was a maturity and intelligence to her.
Sarannya nodded and exhaled, swallowing some stew. “So, this has nothing to do with the sword. This has everything to do with how we perceive the world. To be a proper warrior, I have to change how I view the world to see it as it really is. In that way, I can stay alive in combat and actually live life?” She looked at Jorian, lifting her brows in question.
Jorian smiled a toothy smile. “Exactly.”
“How am I going to remember all of this? This is just the start.” Sarannya was a bit panicked.
Jorian put his bowl down and reached into his saddle bags. “That reminds me, I have something for you.” He handed her a wooden box covered in a leather sleeve. She took it and pulled the box out. Opening the latch, which was made out of platinum, she looked inside to see a journal, fountain pen, and ink. The journal was made of a good binding that was glued and stitched. The pages were thick, but slightly coarse beneath her fingers. The fountain pen was exquisite. She had never seen one this nice. The barrel of the pen was made of platinum and was engraved with lotus blossoms. The cap was gold and inlaid with what looked like bits of black onyx in the Tatara family crest of a crown and crossed roses.
“The paper is from Nipara, and it was bound so the pages would last. The ink is from our very own fiefdom; the best ink in the empire. I also like to write and take notes, so I don’t forget important thoughts and understandings. Make sure to write down the things you learn, what you discover about yourself, and what you have no idea about.”
“Thank you very much. I’ll…” Sarannya frowned. “I will take very good care of it, and I will use it.”
“You don’t have to be formal with me.”
“Right. I keep forgetting that. I don’t understand. Why do you want me to be casual with you? You are the teacher, and I’m the student.” She fumbled through the casual contraction.
