Rise (War Witch Book 1) (53 page)

Chara stared at her for a minute. "Who are you?"

"Izra, friend of Ramora's," the Deep Elf grinned.

"Sure, come on," the young woman said.

"I'm going with you," Esteban stated.

"Like Hells you are," his lover snapped. "Tend to the Dwarf. I'll meet you back at the inn later."

Esteban's face fell. "But, beloved."

"No buts," she told him. "I'm having a me day."

Chara stormed away, the crowd parting for her, whispers running through them as Izra tagged along, clapping her hands in excitement. Esteban's tail went limp as she vanished. Ramora kind of understood how he felt.

Well, she'd bungled that one nicely, she admitted as she hefted Flick up off the floor, ignoring the way he clutched at her, wailing about the monster who’d eaten all his money. Tagging Esteban and Bit, she headed for the door.

Tanna hovered by the table, frowning deeply. She wasn't certain she had a right to tell Ramora what she'd seen in her friend’s aura. For that matter, she wasn't sure what she'd seen herself. Never in her life had she encountered something so chaotic, with so many tangled, woven, swirling colors. Silently, she wondered how a person could get that way.

Slowly, she turned to follow, bothered deeply by this turn of events.

DESPITE RAMORA’S OUTRAGE
over the whole thing, Chara felt pretty good about her wins in the match-ups. Not only had she secured more money than she'd ever seen in her life, but she'd done it against people who had dismissed her out of hand. Something about that made her feel even better about it all.

Taking Izra on a shopping spree, Chara had picked up several changes of clothes for herself, and a few for the Deep Elf as well, spent a few hours in a beauty salon, and on a whim, had gotten a haircut, trading her long locks for a shorter style that framed her face in a way that made her feel adventurous.

She found Izra to be good company, as well, the Blessed of Hepheron chatty, but not overly so, encouraging her in ways she wasn't accustomed to. Nothing against Ramora, but as far as Chara was concerned, she needed to live a little. Esteban, too, for that matter.

She felt bad as soon as she thought it, remembering what Ramora had been through, and why they were in Lansing in the first place. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy herself a little. Maybe, just seeing her doing it might end up lightening the occasionally dour Blessed's mood.

"You look moody," Izra commented as they got a manicure. "Feeling bad about fighting with your friends?"

"Kind of," Chara admitted. "I guess I thought Ramora would be proud of me, you know?"

The Deep Elf nodded in sympathy. "Ramor's Blessed are a different lot. Everything's always about honor with them. She'll come around, though. They always do."

"I guess so," Chara said, her sad look persisting.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Izra asked, gently prodding the young woman to share.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I really kind of wanted her to be doing this with me," Chara admitted. "I suppose I just wanted to see her smile."

The Deep Elf grinned. "I get it. Don't worry over it so much, though. Like I said, Ramor's are a bit of a different breed. Once she sees that you're capable of taking care of yourself, she'll be proud of you."

"You think so?"

"Definitely," the Elf nodded. "Hells, we ought to give you a job financing this whole mission."

Chara chuckled. "At least I don't have to worry about how I'm going to pay that crazy woman later."

"Crazy woman?"

"Long story," Chara sighed. "She's a sorcerer, I think. I wasn't really clear on that part. Anyway, I've got a couple of mystic weapons she's recharging for me. She's nuts, but for some reason, I feel like I should trust her. It's weird."

Izra watched her for a moment. "Her name wasn't Rayne by any chance, was it?"

Chara gave her a surprised look. "You've heard of her?"

The Deep Elf laughed at that. "Heard of her? Oh, sweetie, I've known Rayne for a lot of years. You're right to trust her, even if you aren't sure why."

"That actually make me feel a bit better," the young woman said. "She's just so nutty, though."

"It's an act," Izra told her with a shrug. "She's kind of scared of people, so she puts up this big front to keep them from getting too close to her. Underneath it, she's a really sweet, warm, kind person."

"Keep people away, huh?" Chara replied thoughtfully. "I had the opposite problem. Way too much groping."

The Elf laughed at that hysterically. "Yeah, she does that sometimes, too. It's her way of testing people."

"I guess I passed, then," Chara muttered. "Lucky me."

"She was the same way with me, at first," Izra confided. "It took a while for us to really become friends. I wanted to, but she kept me at arm’s-length for a long time. I don't know all the whys of it, but Rayne has a hard time being comfortable around others. She's easily frightened, and acts insane, or lascivious, to make others as uncomfortable as she feels. I guess, in a way, she's trying to level the playing field."

"I suppose," Chara replied. "If you can always see the value of a person, then it would make it hard for you to feel close to them."

"Pretty much," the Elf smiled. "Don't be too harsh on her. She's sweet, in her own weird way."

Returning the smile, Chara nodded. "I won't be. And in case I haven't said it already, thanks, Izra. For coming with me. I appreciate it."

"Free food, free clothes, and a free beauty treatment?" the Elf snorted. "Like I'm going to pass that up."

Laughing at that, Chara relaxed, savoring the posh treatment. She'd make things right with Ramora and Esteban later, and maybe, both of them really would see she was capable of taking care of herself.

Pausing in their spree, Chara returned to Gracie's, dropping a hefty tip on the bar for the woman. Gracie smiled and thanked her, offering to set her up a table if she ever wanted to be a regular fixture. Chara promised to consider it, feeling high on life as she left.

Night had fallen by the time the two returned to the inn, finding an even more sour Ramora, despondent Esteban, and slightly depressed Leto awaiting them. Ramora made a great deal of fuss over the time, the money, and Chara's hair, all while Izra tried to calm her, reminding the priestess that she, a Blessed, had been with Chara the whole time.

Esteban just stared at her new haircut for a long time, then quietly asked if they could retire to their room for the evening. Sensing where that was going, Chara had asked Leto what he thought, getting only an off-hand reply that it was great. A little worried about him, she'd shrugged and followed her lover upstairs for a night of passionate romping, leaving Ramora to stew in the common room.

She still had more than two hundred tritters left, a horny boyfriend, a new wardrobe, and was feeling better than she had in her whole life. The city agreed with her, she thought, making her wonder why her friend couldn't see she was happy.

It didn't take long for Esteban to put all thoughts from her mind.

Downstairs, Izra had tried to lighten the mood, but Leto had excused himself, and Ramora had grumped about for a bit before calling it a night, leaving the Deep Elf wondering why humans had to be so weird about everything.

By the next morning, Ramora was ready to apologize to Chara, which her young friend accepted graciously. It hadn't been easy for the Blessed, but she explained that her Avatar had given her holy Hells all night about her behavior, which she'd come to see, had been out of line. Chara was a grown woman, and capable of making her own choices. It was hard for the Blessed to admit at times, but she wasn't the girl she'd met close on to a year ago now.

Tousling Chara's hair, she complimented her new look before leaving for training, dragging the strangely quiescent Leto with her. When she pressed him about his unnatural silence, he blew it all off with an odd laugh, then resumed being quieter than usual.

She decided to drop that like it was a hot rock. Something told her she didn't want to know what was really behind his odd mood. Her Rabbit thought she maybe did, but she ignored that even more fervently.

Even stranger was the cutesy look Sabra gave him when they arrived at the castle, and the flush that passed over the normally intrepid General. Ramora chose to notice neither event as she joined Izra and apologized to her as well, getting cuddled for her trouble, which was far from bad.

As their training prepared to begin, Bit surprised everyone by standing on the table, demanding their attention. Not sure what the Halfling was up to this time, they agreed to hear him out, to Ramora's eternal regret.

"It's come to my attention," he started. "That the Lady Ramora be hiding a couple'a aces up her sleeve. I think it high time we shuffled 'em into the deck, as it were, and started playing to our full strength."

Cocking an eyebrow, she indicated she didn't know what he was talking about, with Tanna translating, as Leto still seemed out of it.

"I think ya do, lass," the Halfling retorted. "That mountain of Werecat, and the fine-looking lady with the scary mind would come in right handy at this juncture."

Narrowing her gaze, Ramora strictly forbade it.

"I wouldn't so quick," Flick commented. "The Lady Chara is a formidable foe in Masters, which is a game of strategy first and foremost. It might not be a bad idea to bring her into this and see what she thinks of our battle plan."

Gaping at the Dwarf, Ramora repeated her refusal.

"I'm going to go with Flick on this, sweetie," Izra shrugged. "I watched her play. She's not someone we should write off just because she isn't a Blessed."

Giving the Deep Elf an annoyed look, Ramora insisted that wasn't it. She didn't want Chara along because she was too young to be put in such a dangerous position.

"I've seen her handle a bow," Leto spoke up, seeming to regain his sense of composure at last. "She's quite capable."

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Ramora turned to Sabra, who just shrugged. "Would be nice to have a couple more fighter types around. If she's really that good at archery, she could remain at a safe distance and still help out."

Growing angry, she looked to Tanna, who mulled it for a moment. "I'm uncertain it would be wise. However, it's ultimately up to the Lady Chara. None of us may choose the path another will walk in life."

Frustrated, the warrior made it clear to Rick she wouldn't have it.

He sat quietly, thinking it over before he spoke, measuring his words carefully. "There's an element you haven't considered in your rush to protect your young friend, Ramora. While I respect that, Tanna is correct, and moreover, I've come to realize we've miscalculated at least one thing. While I'm projecting, my body is defenseless."

Collapsing into a chair, Ramora gave a silent groan. As much as she hated it, Rick had her there. Nodding, she agreed to speak with Chara and Esteban about it over dinner.

"There now, that didn't hurt much, did it, lass?" Bit asked, smug.

Ramora knocked his feet out from under him, taking a petty joy in hearing his ass hit the table. Even better was the yelp he gave as he landed.

"Don't worry, sweetie," Izra comforted her. "We wouldn't ever let her get into the main fighting."

"Of course not," Flick snorted. "Though, no offense to the General, but I wouldn't mind if she plotted our strategy fresh."

"I've played her," Leto told him as his shoulders slumped. "No offense taken."

"That was a wee bit unnecessary," Bit muttered as he righted himself. "Come now, darlin, don't be so sour. The lass has a sharp mind. Best we put it to good use before someone else thinks to put it to ill, yeah?"

Begrudgingly, Ramora nodded. She'd promised Diem to keep Chara safe, and now found herself about to drag the young woman off to a fight with the single most dangerous Dark Blessed anyone had ever heard of. Somehow, she felt the old soldier wouldn't be pleased.

Then again, he might be proud of his girl. People, after all, were strange.

As evening fell and Ramora found herself gathered around their usual table with Leto, Esteban, and Chara, she tried to figure out how to broach the subject tactfully, already knowing the big Cat’s reaction would be the same as her own. That aside, she'd promised to at least make the offer, allowing Chara to decide her own course in life, leaving her honor bound to do so.

The matronly Halfling who ran the inn, Tia by name, Ramora had learned, served them a fine meal of pork chops, potatoes, and carrots, with luscious apple tarts for dessert. She took her time getting through them, noticing more than once the encouraging looks Leto tossed over at her.

I'm getting to it, dammit
, she thought to herself, ignoring her Rabbit's song about procrastination, even if it did have a lovely island beat to it.

With the table cleared, they reclined, enjoying some beer Tia's wife had personally brewed in their little shop behind the inn. Ramora admitted it was quite tasty, trying to ignore the gentle nudges Leto kept giving her. Grumbling in her own mind, she leaned forward, looking at her two friends with a serious expression that caught their eye quickly.