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Authors: Tristan J. Tarwater

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BOOK: Self-Made Scoundrel
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It was a bit too much. The chuckle changed to a laugh and then a low sob as he pulled the blanket closer around him, the edges of the fabric growing damp with his tears. The elf was right. He wouldn’t be able to sleep. Derk thought of the father he feared and respected, the brother he thrust in harm’s way, and the nephew who might be treated more like a tool than an actual person. And what legacy was Derk leaving on the earth? All the ideals he had for himself…what was the point if he never passed them on? If they didn’t change anything? If all that remained after him were the results of his mistakes?

He cried as he looked into the fire, sobbing until he felt he was actually tired enough to sleep and sleep well. But the elf snored and Derk’s eyes still burned from salt water and too much rubbing. He would take time to get himself together and in the morning would present himself as a brand new man to his mates. The truth was he wouldn’t be able to help his brother or nephew with his presence. It would probably cause more problems. He would continue to lay low as they passed through the territory. All he would offer them were his prayers and good wishes. It would have to be sufficient.

Something moved behind him and Derk looked, catching sight of Sindra rolling over, her beautiful face showing faintly in the firelight. She was an aunt. Maybe he could make something more of her. He wished he could crawl up beside her but he knew if he did, he would most likely fall asleep, leaving the camp vulnerable.

Derk rose from his seat to stretch his legs, still looking at Sindra, a smile playing on his face. She made him happy and loved him, didn’t she? More than he infuriated her and vice-versa, they loved each other. After they returned the chalice he would see how they played out and do what he could to keep her. After all, he was an honorable man and loved her with his heart. That was more than enough, wasn’t it?

The elf snored again, jarring Derk from his thoughts of a thief and a priestess building a home together. He sat down by the fire again, sitting to the side of it so he wouldn’t be blinded by its brightness. There were a few more hours to go and more than enough tree seeds around to throw at Jezlen to keep him occupied. Derk gathered up a handful before he tossed one overhand, the seed almost landing in the sleeping man’s mouth.

The fire popped suddenly, jolting him and Asa stirred, looking at Derk for a moment before smiling and going back to sleep. Legacy. Derk sighed. He still felt cold and wished he could get his thoughts on death far from his mind, its black imprint sullying the more cheerful thoughts he had been entertaining before. A life of being a husband and thief…he could manage it, right? He could have his Sindra life, as well as his Old Gam, surely?

But violence would still come, stars would still fall. People would try to come up against him and try to tell him he couldn’t have either. A cinder falling into his hand and the low, sad cry of a bird were all it took to start the tears in his eyes again, not for his father, but for himself.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Acceptance and Rejection

Derk wore his second best shirt and his best pair of britches, with boots cleaned and buckles shined. His short, sandy hair was combed and slicked back with sweet oil, his face clean shaven, the bit of pink dancing at the surface of his skin suggesting he hadn’t sharpened his razor as keenly as he should have.

In his hands, the fingernails void of dirt, was a small wooden box, the decoration without hinting at the value of the contents within. Yet for all this, Sindra walked away from him, her back turned, hands engulfed by her dark, lustrous hair as she ran her slender fingers over her head in frustration. Derk stood there, his hands still poised to open the box, the words he was about to speak stuck in his throat. He managed to push them back and find the appropriate words for the situation, taking a step toward the priestess. “What, Sindra?” he asked quietly, his boots sounding noisy in the small room as he approached her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Don’t,” was all she said, but the urgency in her voice was clear, her hands trembling as she brought them out of her hair and to the sides of her face. Cold, white sunlight streamed through the one window in her chamber, the square of illumination falling on the table and the wooden floor. Derk crossed into the square of light, his excitement temporarily quenched rising up in him again as he undid the clasp on the box.

“Sindra, please…will you marry me?” He opened the box and a necklace gleamed in the corner of sunlight, tossing up a chunk of reflected light into a corner of the room. What he expected was for the priestess to wheel around and throw her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately on the lips before saying yes. He would pick her up in his arms and walk her over to her bed where they would enjoy each other till vespers.

Instead she bowed her head and brought her hands to her face, her shoulders moving up and down ever so slightly. She pulled her shoulder length hair behind her ears before turning around, her expression saying she pitied the man rather than she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Her eyes settled on the contents of the box and they widened, her lips parting slightly as if to speak but she took a breath instead, slowly shaking her head.

“No,” she said, closing her eyes as she continued to shake her head. “I will not.”

The small room seemed to fall apart around him, the cold from outside suddenly making its way into the room, into his bones. Surely, she hadn’t just said what he heard. What had he heard? She stood before him and she looked the same as she had this morning. He last saw her in the temple during morning prayers. He had been there to ask for the blessing of mystery in his next mission as well as traveling mercies. She had been the priestess officiating over the liturgy and rituals and her hand lingered on his jawline as she prayed over him. Now she stood before him and the tenderness was gone. There was an expression on her face he had never seen before and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he looked upon her.

“No? Why not?” The box was still open, the gift he had acquired for the occasion still exposed to the open air. He trembled slightly, placing the box on the table, not able to keep the edge off his voice. “Why? I don’t understand.”

“Because, Derk.” She walked up to him, laying a cold, soft hand on the side of his face, her eyes glinting as tears formed in their corners. She still shook her head, laying her forehead on his. Sindra didn’t look him in the eye when she spoke. “I don’t want to.”

“D…don’t want to? Why?” Derk felt confusion creeping around his brain, a sensation he rarely felt and did not enjoy. The words were said and he thought he heard them but he didn’t understand how they could have come out of Sindra’s mouth. She was still the beautiful woman he fell in love with, the same woman he vowed to start a family with all those seasons ago. By the time they had returned with the chalice, he had been under the impression she was going to turn him off. Instead, she embraced him, letting him call upon her when he was able, even going so far as to let him kiss her in public, never refusing him. Now she was saying no. How could she say no?

“How could you say no?” he asked, his voice piqued more with annoyance than grief. Her dark eyebrows raised, a hint of confusion furrowing her brow.

“How? Derk, you can’t believe the relationship we have should end in marriage…can you?” She asked him the question as if she was unaware of the answer, curiosity playing on her words.

“Well, I did, obviously. Till now.” That part was painfully obvious. “But I was thinking maybe you and I could have a family. A child. And I thought you’d be more likely if we took vows.” It was one of the reasons why he asked her to marry him. The first was he loved her but Sindra already knew this. What she wanted was information and he offered it up, hoping by exposing his good intentions and reasons, she might change her mind.

Sindra laughed, a dry, amused chuckle echoing in the chamber. She let her hands drop from her face and she pulled away from him, nodding slowly. “I see now. That is something you would think, isn’t it?” She stood behind one of the chairs, resting her hands on its back. Her eyes wandered over to the contents of the jewelry box but she closed them and turned her attention to Derk again.

“What?! I figured with you being a priestess and all, and a recently promoted one I might add, congratulations yet again.” He bowed to her in a way which wasn’t supposed to be mocking but she looked at him as if it were. Derk straightened up and threw his hands in the air, sighing, exasperated with her disdain. “I know they like priestesses to be bonded if they are to start families.”

“Now you consider my calling,” she said, glancing to the side. Her hands gripped the back of the chair, the smile on her face wry and her eyes gleaming. “Now. Do you know why our relationship has worked thus far, and don’t say love, whatever you do. Actually, don’t answer. I am going to tell you why.

“Our relationship worked because my duties as a priestess and your profession as whatever it is you call yourself made us readily available to each other when the other called. I busied myself with my studies and devotions. You busied yourself going on your missions and learning your little tricks in the bars and inns and taverns and alleys of every town you passed through. When I was made the High Priestess of the Temple, you conveniently started going on longer…excursions. It was of little consequence. I had less leisure time as you seem to have plenty of projects to take up yours. However, shortly after my ordination, it was brought to my attention the types of places you frequented and the company you keep.”

Sindra paused for a moment, loosening her grip on the chair and bringing the tips of her fingers together, her robes undulating like an ocean in the winter as she crossed the small room. She stood in front of the small screen and wardrobe taking up much of one of the corners of the room, turning to face Derk, who now sat on the other chair. “I know some of the things you have done, I know some of the people you have been working with, and I do not like it. As a priestess, I can grant you secrecy but as a friend, as more than a friend, I cannot and will not approve. You are endangering me as a person and therefore, you are endangering my position and the people I have been charged to care for. I will not marry into trouble.”

Derk leaned forward in the chair, rubbing his eye with his hand, his once well groomed hair falling into his face. “I’m not asking you to marry into trouble, Sindra, I’m asking you to marry me. I’ll stop doing such shady things once we’ve settled down and such. I promise.”

“No, you won’t,” she shot. “You won’t, I know you won’t.” Her eyes went over to the open jewelry box, turning her head to the side as she looked at it again. “You keep secrets from me even now, even when you come to temple to give up your cares you still hold things in, I know it. You don’t do anything just to get by, you do them because…I don’t know, because you feel you must.” Sindra’s eyes grew cold, her face as hard as one of the moonstone statues adorning the temple just below. “Where have you been the last week?”

“I told you. I was out with some of the fellows, getting some goods back for one of the merchants. Harik. Asa was there.”

“I saw Asa three days ago and he said he had been back in town three days before that.”

“Once we got the goods back, I sent them ahead and had to stay behind and do something.”

“And what was this something you had to do?”

“I had to get you this present!” Derk didn’t flinch as he spoke, closing the jewelry box with a loud snap. He stood from his chair, holding the wooden box out to her, eyes narrowed with ire. “I knew I was going to propose to you and I wanted to have a proper gift to give you. It was supposed to be a surprise, so naturally, I didn’t tell you where I’d been.”

“So you stole it?”

“I got it for you!”

“But you stole it?”

“Chew Her Hems, yes, I stole it!” he shouted, slamming the case down, the wood of the box buckling under the force of his hand and bits of the inlay flying off, skittering across the table and floor. “I saw it and I wanted to get it for you. I also stole the sheets on your bed, most of the jewelry I’ve given you, if not the whole thing then the components. If it wasn’t stolen it was bought with money I took or won gambling.” He shook his head, looking down at the crushed box, picking up the scraps of scented wood. The necklace lay haphazardly on the small piece of fabric in which it had been wrapped. Derk stared at Sindra, her eyes on the necklace, her lips pressed together so they disappeared on her face and he sighed, throwing his hands in the air. “But you had to have known this. I don’t understand what the trouble is, all of a sudden. I don’t know why you can’t be with me.”

“I can cover your sins, Derk. I cannot stand by them. But that is just it. I don’t think you see your deeds as sins.”

Derk stiffened, the room suddenly quiet as they stood there, the sounds of the busy street outside muffled by the stones surrounding them. He walked over and kissed her on the cheek, taking her hand and putting the fractured box in it, closing her fingers over it. “I don’t.” He kissed her on the lips, the priestess pulling away. Sindra pushed the box back into his hands. She shook her head slowly, pulling herself away from him completely before walking to the door of her chamber and opening it.

Derk walked over to the chair, grabbing his coat from the back of it, yanking it on as he gazed at Sindra, trying to drink her in before he left her private chambers forever. Her face was calm, her mouth smiling slightly, her grey eyes sparkling, hinting at a few tears. Derk couldn’t understand why she was crying. She wasn’t the one who had just been rejected. He buttoned his coat, taking his time with the buttons so he could linger longer, stuffing the box into his pocket before he walked over to the door.

“What will you do with the necklace?” she asked as he stepped over the threshold, her words stopping him short of the stairs. Her eyes looked away from him, her body leaning against the open door. The post of her bed was still in view from where he stood, and he briefly considered ripping off his coat and pulling her after him onto the mattress they had slept on so many times. But she asked a question he never considered and he shrugged, feeling the weight of the box in his coat pocket. He reached in, wiggling his fingers through the splintered wood and lifted out the delicate item. Derk held it up, letting the links of metal cascade over the contours of his hand, the weight of the carved stones pulling here and there.

BOOK: Self-Made Scoundrel
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