Rise (War Witch Book 1) (8 page)

Chara nodded before Lucy kissed her, arms folding around her neck, body pressing into her with a hungry need she couldn't deny she felt too. No man had ever made her feel the way Lucy did, or ever could sate the yearning in her heart. No lover had ever been able to make her feel as if she was a whole person, save the one she held then.

They sank to floor together, lost in each other, the world spinning away to nothing in the silky moans they brought from each other.

The warrior had spent the rest of her morning sitting near a window, watching the townsfolk of Rheumer go about their day, while sipping a rich, robust coffee. From what she'd been told when Kate had given it to her, the southernmost end of the village sported a coffee field that produced the finest beans in all of Fival. Traveling merchants often traded for them with silks from as far away as Isnar.

She found it easy to believe, and wondered if her Father knew there was a place in the Middle World that produced a coffee that rivaled what he savored in the High World. It’d been far easier than she expected to simply lean back in a chair and relax as the aroma wafted over her, the taste so wonderful she’d decided to take her time with it.

That, and she figured Kate wasn't going to give her another cup.

She felt certain that was bordering on heresy. Somehow.

As she was finishing, Daniel eased closer to her, fidgeting nervously. With an internal sigh, she offered him a polite smile, hoping against hope he wasn't trying a new tactic to woe her. His last had been less than impressive, and frankly, while he seemed a nice boy, she simply wasn't interested.

Annoying her, the Rabbit in her yodeled that he was pretty. She tried to shush it, but it hopped around, offering her a lullaby about the screaming orgasms she could drag from him. Embarrassed, she begged it to stop, which, with a snicker, it did.

"Um, so," Daniel finally said, his uncertainty obvious. "I wanted to apologize for last night. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't show you the proper respect you deserve. I hope you’ll accept my apology."

Surprised, the warrior nodded, holding out a hand. With a look of relief, he took it and shook it warmly, his nervousness fading into joy.

"If you're interested, there's an old storage building out back," he told her as he let her hand drop. "Dad uses it to hold on to things patrons leave behind, in case they ever return. A lot of that stuff has been out there for years, but if you're limited on money, you might be able to find some of what you need there."

Once again surprised by the boy, she gave him an impressed look and nodded. Smiling, he offered her the key to the lock and excused himself. Watching him go, she couldn't help but grin widely.

Some boys were so easy to please. She was at the back door of the inn before she realized he was only two years younger than her, so she really shouldn't think of him as a boy.

By the time she reached the shed, it had fully sunken in that she wasn't that much older than Chara. She paused for a bit to think on that. She’d considered her a girl since they’d met, but she was as much a full woman as the warrior herself was.

It was odd, to her, how her life had warped her views. Father referred to even the oldest of mortals as children, calling them boys and girls, though in an affectionate way. Her internal voice had viewed both Chara and Daniel as children, though she saw now that it was a biased view.

On the other hand, her internal Rabbit was warbling about a rather inappropriate threesome. She chose to ignore that.

Shaking her head, she unlocked the shed and stepped inside, sneezing at the heavy layer of dust opening the door kicked up. She’d never been one for philosophical ramblings, and decided to simply treat the two as she would want them to treat her. As adults.

Though, Chara's moon eyes were going to make that difficult,
she thought with a silent snicker.

Taking her time, she poked through the various crates and chests that filled the left side of the room, and rummaged about in the shelves that lined the right. She found a number of useless trinkets, and a few small things that she figured would be helpful to have. Keeping a mental inventory, she decided to ask Diem about it later.

Then she saw it. It’d been hidden back in the corner, away from prying eyes, mostly covered with a heavy oil cloth, but she spotted it easily enough. The armor had grown tarnished over the years, but one could still see the royal crest of Fival on the breast plate and helm. The greatsword resting beside the old armor was in a better state of repair, however. It too showed signs of neglect, but not so much as its companions.

“Yes, that would’ve been mine.”

The warrior turned to find Diem standing behind her. His long white hair had been braided since breakfast, showing his weathered and heavily lined face more clearly. Pale hazel eyes had a hint of red around them and this morning, he looked like an old man as he stared down at the armor.

“I was a Lieutenant, you know. In the palace guard. The safety of the kingdom was my responsibility.” His hands lightly caressed the armor. “That was a long time ago, though.”

The warrior put a hand on his, stopping him from lifting his fingers from the armor. Slowly, she pulled the neckline of her tunic to one side, showing the tips of the scars that ran across her chest.

Diem smiled. “I see you know a thing or two about old scars, yourself, warrior of Ramor. Mine were not so kind as to let me continue in my service to the King, though.”

The warrior made a movement with her shoulders that baffled the old man for a moment, till he realized she was laughing silently. He joined her after a moment.

“Yes, I suppose you’re fortunate to just be alive, aren’t you? As am I, now that you bring it up. Bah, I’m an old man, with the regrets and memories of an old man, nothing more. When you reach my age, you’ll understand how it can seem no one else has it as bad as you do.”

The look in her eyes gave him pause. “Yes, if you reach my age. The mark on your head is both a blessing, and a curse, isn’t it? You’ll be lucky to see half my age.”

She nodded slowly and let his hand rise from the armor, reaching for the pouch at her belt. A moment later, she showed him the dragon painting she’d come to hate so much. For her, it was symbolic of everything evil in the world.

Diem held the small piece of cloth in better light for a moment, studying it closely. “Yes, I know I’ve seen this somewhere before. Now, where was that? Damn this old mind of mine, nothing holds like it once did. Let me think on it, I know it’ll come to me.” With that, he returned the cloth to her.

The warrior carefully placed it back in her pouch, taking a last look at the armor. With a devilish smirk, she slapped Diem on the stomach, making the old man howl with glee.

“I dare say you’re right. I couldn’t wear it again if my life depended on it.”

THEY SPENT
the rest of the morning and half the afternoon going through the shed, gathering anything that might be of use to the warrior when she left Rheumer. Diem had agreed to it easily enough after taking a look at her coin purse. While she had more gold than he'd seen in a long time, the coins were from all over the world, meaning the exact value of her money would depend on where she was, relations between various kingdoms, and many more factors he didn't even want to think about.

Economics had never been his strong suit, and after years of living in Rheumer, he couldn't even begin to guess what the global market was on gold. Everyone still used it, so he figured it was healthy, but still, each country used its own values for money.

As they finished putting what was of use in the shed into a crate, he explained to the warrior that she would do well to exchange her gold for a single currency type first chance she got. At her baffled look, he explained what he could of finance relations, but that just seemed to make her more confused. Not that he didn't understand. It always confused him, too.

With the crate packed away in the inn’s storeroom for the moment, they headed inside to see what Kate had fixed for lunch. Had they known the tempest they were about to walk into, they may have stayed outside and gone hungry. Diem would have for certain, and he figured his new friend would have as well.

"I don't care about any of that," Chara bellowed at her mother. "Has it ever crossed your mind, even once, that I don't
want
to get married?"

The warrior and Diem exchanged a look, then both sighed. Standing near the front doors of the common room, Lucy watched with wide eyes, while the few regulars who took their lunch late were quietly hurrying through the meals so they could escape.

Kate and Chara's arguments had, over the last few years, become legendary in the small village. Everyone knew the two would go at it with the drop of a hat, and everyone did their best to simply avoid them both once they had started a row. Typically, they kept it out of the common room, so Diem knew this was going to be one of those rare, special kinds of fights.

The kind where he ended up mediating. He really hated those.

"Why wouldn't you want to get married?" Kate shouted back, waving a cooking spoon at nothing in particular. "What else could a young woman possibly want more than that?"

"Anything!" Chara screamed.

"You only say that because you're young, and don't know any better," Kate roared back at her. "Once you have a husband and a child, you'll get it."

Screaming at the rafters, her daughter was turning red from rage. "I don't want to get it! By the Gods, how can you not understand this? I do
not
want to get married!"

The warrior eased back a step, only to find Diem's hand on her arm. She gave him her most pathetic look, but he just shook his head.

"This is war, friend, and you’re a soldier," he said softly. "Would you abandon a fellow in the midst of battle?"

She nodded quickly.

"Would not," he chided.

Her face fell.

Kate's face was pinched as she tried to control her anger and failed. "I swear, it's like you do this simply to defy me, girl. Hale is a good young man, and I know you care for him, so what difference does it make if I arranged something with his father?"

"You what?" Diem snapped.

Spinning, she saw her husband and the warrior for the first time, but instead of backing down, her hands fell to her hips. "He offered us a generous dowry for her hand. What was I supposed to do, say no?"

"Damn right you were," Diem bellowed, storming away from the warrior.

She was too shocked to be relieved. People still did this kind of thing?

"I don't love Hale, Mom!" Chara yelled. "When are you going to get that through your head?"

"Of course you do," Kate said, waving her off without looking at her. "You're just too selfish to know it. You'll see after you've had his baby."

"Kathleen, would you listen to yourself?" Diem barked. "Really, just listen to the words coming out of your mouth!"

"I hear them fine," she shot back. "Maybe you would do well to stop chasing after that one's ass and tend your rebellious daughter for a change." She waved the spoon at the warrior, who stared at her in horror.

How had she gotten dragged into this? She was just a guest in the inn. Passing through. What had Father dropped her in the middle of?

Diem pulled himself up, glaring at his wife in outrage. "She hasn’t got a damn thing in the world to do with this, so you mind your tongue this minute," he warned.

"Have his baby?" Chara screeched. "Mom, he smells like guts and pig shit!"

"She has everything to do with this," Kate seethed. "Ever since she's arrived, our daughter has gotten it in her head that she can go gallivanting about the world and throw our traditions to the wind. It's all her fault!"

"By the Gods, woman," Diem gasped. "Where have you been for the last eighteen years? She's always been that way!"

"Yeah," Chara nodded, then stopped and thought about it a moment. "Hey! Whose side are you on?"

"Mine, now shut your trap," Diem growled, jabbing a finger at his daughter.

To everyone’s surprise, Chara did just that. She’d never seen her father so angry in all her life, and for the first time ever, felt silence was her best option.

"She’s old enough to start thinking about the rest of her life," Kate stormed, her voice low and hard. "It’s past time she put her silly ideas away and acted her age. Hale is a good young man who will treat her well. What more could she ask for?"

"How about love?" Diem countered. "Or have you forgotten what that is?"

"How dare you," Kate snarled.

"I dare, woman, because your father put me through all the Hells when we wanted to marry. Have you forgotten that? He wanted you with Edger, the Potter’s son, not a broken down old soldier. We had to fight to be together, because we loved each other! Who are you to tell your daughter she can't have the same?"

"Wait, what?" Daniel cried from where he’d been loitering in the corner. "My dad was almost Icky Eddy?"

"Daniel, shut up," Kate snapped.