the Leathermines

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It had not been planned, but a gathering for the evening meal was under the tent.  Many of the nobles felt less confined by the usual social mores after the night before, and having mostly recovered from it.  Not having the presence of the Council General and the Bishop helped, too.  There was more of a flow of people from all of the groups through the tent as a sideboard being stocked showed that there was more to eat than even the night before.  Some hard cider was opened and the men in the nobles served each other, many of the officers, too.

Laun had sat on one of the benches facing away from a table and out towards the field beyond the tent.  She had several officers standing around her talking with her about the agreement, though Laun would decline to tell them anything about the way her people had been able to keep them at bay for so long.

The few other women who were not servants or entertainers seemed out of place as they wandered through and found that most of the men were more interested in talking about hunting and military matters than about more domestic things.  Laun was not entirely sympathetic; if Lady Beatia was not going to teach her daughters what men really liked, it was up to them to learn by fire.

The troupe was flowing through with little entertainments, and flirtations.  It was pleasant and kept the mood up.  Though, Laun did note one small interaction and waited.  The woman came closer to Laun and she paused in her conversation with the officers.  Laun pointed and said, “Nissa,” holding her hand out.  The woman looked shocked and then embarrassed as Laun motioned for Nissa to give her something.

The officers saw the hand of the entertainer go across Laun’s palm and a small pouch was there.  “And the other one.”  A jeweled pin was placed on top.  “I thought you also-”  And a small silver knife was on the pile.  One of the officers put his hand to his waist, an angry look on his face.

“Little thief-”

Laun held up her other hand to the officer.  “We have been playing a game and she took it a little far.  She is going to be giving these back now.  Aren’t you?”

Nissa nodded and took the pouch and pin back.  She disappeared into the crowd and found the original owners to make excuses and give them back.  Laun held up the knife to the officer and said, “You need to keep better track of your things, Captain.  If you need reparations from her, I am sure that she would willingly work off her indiscretions.”  Laun smiled and saw a slight change in the officer’s shoulders.

His eye flicked to the woman who was making as though she had found the pin on the ground to one of the middle daughters.  “Might have to do that.”

Laun nodded to close the matter.  “Now, what was that about the movement numbers from the East...?”  Laun tilted her head slightly and many of the officers took that as an innocent interest, willingly talking about what they knew to impress the daughter of the King.

Ithian finally showed his face at the evening gathering once the light was almost gone from the sky.  Laun stood when she saw him approach and he took her hand and delicately kissed the back.  She at first thought it was just a lover’s kiss, but then she saw that he had heavy cosmetics on.  Then she saw the swelling and slight discoloring that the make-up could not entirely cover.

She excused them from the men and Laun led them into the gathering darkness outside the lantern-lit tent.  Her hand went to above the swelling, but did not touch.

“Who...?”

His eyes flicked down, hate and embarrassment mixed in his demeanor and voice as he said, “Lady Engrid.  She was in the hallway and I tried to pass, but she was fast.  And mean with her fists.  I told her I was resigning my position and she did this.”

Laun held out her arms and he carefully put himself within her embrace.  “My love, I am so sorry.  But she is gone.  Soon, if you wish, you will meet my family.”

He nodded into her hair.  “Soon.”  They held each other for a while.

Falmir was being loud and started to call for Laun. They both sighed and Laun asked, “Will you escort me?”

He nodded and tried not to grimace.  His fist went out and Laun accepted the formal hand, walking with Ithian back into the light and noise of the tent.

“There she is!  I have a bet and you are going to win it for me.”  Falmir took her hand from Ithian and held it to his chest.

Before saying anything, Laun looked at the people with him.  Two of the officers that had come with him, a Captain and someone who had an insignia she thought meant General, but was not sure, and two of the noble men who both looked like they were from Rosemond.  All the men had tankards of cider in their hands and seemed to have gone through at least one, except for Falmir who was nursing his tankard.  The General was looking at her intently, a squint in his eye.  One of the nobles was suppressing a laugh behind his tankard.

Laun did a small curtsey to the men and said, “I will try my best, Sire.”

Falmir’s chest also seemed to have a bit of a laugh stuck in it as he turned her towards the General and said, “Alsen, I would trust her to do it.”

The General’s face seemed to suck in.  His eye went down to Laun’s belly and a sneer was on his lips.  “Your Majesty.  Even without her...hinderance...  No.  I don’t believe it.”

Falmir bent down and started to say, “How many do you have-”

“Your Majesty, isn’t that cheating?” the smiling Rosemond noble said.

Laun thought she knew what Falmir had been trying to ask and said, “Enough, sire.”

Falmir put her hand to his lips and then let her hand go.  “General, my delicate daughter has proven herself to me on many occasions.  I would suggest giving me the wager now rather than have her show you up.”

Laun glanced up at Falmir’s face and saw a deadly humor.  She looked back at the General and noticed he was counting something.  His off-hand motioned to several places on his body, and Laun counted how many weapons he might have.  “Father, what are you making me do?”

“The General thinks that women are unsuitable for service.  That women just do not have the skills or stomach for it.”

“I think I understand.  I do agree that most women may not have the disposition for a military career, but I think that is mostly the politics, not what has to happen in the field, Sire.  I hope to introduce you to my Protector teams soon, and I know that the General would have to think upon his ideas.”

Falmir smiled.  “So, General, what do you wish to ask her?  Two questions.”  Laun heard the humor in his voice.

General Alsen nodded at his commander and turned to Laun.  “Princess, how many battle scars do you have?”  He squinted at her and had a smile that reminded Laun of wolves.

Laun turned red.  “Sire, you know the only way to make your wager is to show him.”

Falmir shook his head.  “Give him the list you gave me.  We have someone here who can verify.”  Falmir’s gaze went to Ithian a pace behind Laun.

Laun took in a deep breath and started with the shoulder wound and ended with the side scar from the scout, leaving out the all over harness scar and the hand and foot scars.  She described how she got them, what weapon and who it was against, as much like a scouting report as she could muster.

The General’s eyes looked like they wanted to pop out of his head after he heard the first battle details.  He was having problems keeping his mouth closed by the description of her taking the life of the scout to put him out of his misery.  He took a few minutes to think about what she had said.

Laun looked at the other men and the ones who had joined the group while she had been talking.  The laughing Rosemond noble was no longer laughing.  Falmir was gloating and put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing where he knew the first scar was.

The General took in a deep breath and did a low whistle.  “I’m not sure I need to ask my second question.  Sire, you had a ringer here.”

“Please, I gave you two questions.  I want to see her beat your ass.”

“Your Majesty.  Princess, I wish to know how many weapons you have on your person.  Right now.”

Laun tilted her head and smiled sweetly at him.  “Sharp or mass?”  She rubbed her belly over the dark colored tunic for emphasis.

The men around them laughed.  “All, Princess.”

“I have to apologize to my Father for I did not put as many on as I usually do.”  Falmir sucked in his breath.  “General, I believe I have two less than you do yourself.”  Her eyes flicked from place to place on him, his own eyes following hers, his off hand going to several of the places she looked.

The men around him laughed.  A few of the men looked at Laun, trying to see how many blades she may have on her belt around her high waist.  Laun put her hand out as if the General should kiss it, but pulled up the sleeve on the heavy, dark silk to show the pommel of the dagger strapped there above the scars on her wrist.  Several of the men laughed louder, some stopped laughing and looked at her in different ways.

The General did take the hand and bowed over it.  His eyes followed the several scars that she had not mentioned, lingering on the rope burn that still showed around her wrist.  “Princess, my honor.”

The General turned to Falmir and said, “Fuck you, your Majesty.  I love that horse.”

Laun turned to Falmir and said, “Over a horse?  What was your wager?”

Falmir started to turn red.  “I would rather not say, Thorn.”

“Well, sire, next time, don’t make it so easy.”  She curtseyed to the men and took herself from the group.  

Ithian was at her side, his eyes watering.  He held her hand tightly.  “You never told me.  You have more than that.  I...  I didn’t know.”

Laun put a hand on his cheek.  “Love, that is what happens when fate kicks someone in the ass.  I just hope I don’t get any more after this.”

“I won’t let it happen.”  Ithian put her hand to his lips and then his forehead.  That motion seemed to slow down several of the men who had broken off from Falmir’s group to follow, but did not stop them.

Laun found another bench to sit on and waited.  She knew that she had intrigued some of the men and she saw the strong venom that the other noble women were shooting at her with their eyes.  Laun knew that she was interesting to a certain type of man, but that type may not have the same interest in a delicately brought up noble woman.  Or girls, in their cases.

Laun motioned to a servant and she had a glass of water in her hand.  She was able to take a few sips to clear her mouth and throat before the small wave of men descended on her.  The conversation flowed from the compliments on her ease in winning the bet for Falmir to how she had trained to a few hints on potential evening entertainments in more private locations.  Laun poked the conversation away from what she did not want to deal with and encouraged the flirtatious, and downright raunchy conversation.

Laun ate little bites through the evening, but had mostly water and then some sweetmilk when it was brought out.  She had still been recovering from her bout on the privy earlier when she had arrived at the tent, but as the night came and it started to get cooler, her appetite grew.  Not just for food.

Laun gently declined the offers for companionship from the men, though she did not tell them outright no.  Just, not that night.  Laun felt a flush as one of the men leaned forward and whispered a very specific thing he was envisioning for them.  She smiled at him and said that she would need a few days to prepare, as her hips may not move in the proper directions at the moment.  That made him blush but he took it graciously.

The troupe was making things interesting again.  The men and women of the entertainers were dragging the nobles and soldiers around, making them part of the entertainment.  Including the daughter Laun had pointed the acrobat to.  Laun felt even more heat rise in her as she watched the acrobat touching and lingering while positioning the girl.  Laun saw a flush go through the young Lady and it was not all embarrassment.  Laun needed to turn away as her body made it clear that it wanted to do, not see.

Laun excused herself and Ithian escorted her back to the manor.  Before they were all the way to the entrance, there was a darkened alcove and Laun pulled Ithian into the shadows.

“Mistress?”  Ithian finally was able to breathe out when she let him go.

“I can’t wait for the bed.  I want you now.”

His hands went to his tunic and pulled his loincloth to the side.  His hand furiously stroked as he leaned in and kissed her.  Laun pulled her skirts up and knew she was ready by the moisture already on the inside of her thighs.

There was some positioning to be done, finding that it was best with her face to the wall as he entered her.  His hands were up under her clothing, holding her breasts as he moved inside of her.  He was not going fast, but Laun was heated and she was easily touched off.  She bit her own hand when Ithian put a hand around and to the inside of her thigh to get a better grip, the sensations of his fingers pressing into her pushing her further to her peak.

Ithian stopped and pressed Laun as close to the wall as possible.  She was about to protest when she heard several officers walk by talking about the next day’s roster.  Laun was tempted to call out so that she might have more men, but she quieted her urge, and her mouth.  They passed and Ithian kept pressing into Laun, his teeth raking against the back of her neck.

He started again, this time faster.  Laun had to push back to get room to breathe, but that just encouraged him.  She tried to be quiet as she was coming to her peak, but her low growl came out.  His hand went over her mouth and quieted her as another group of people went by, but he did not stop thrusting into her.  He slowed to keep his own sounds low, but she was so close that every stroke almost took her over the top.

They were clear and Ithian went for broke.  “Please, Mistress,” he half whispered and half grunted into her ear.

She felt herself reaching her orgasm and over and she nodded, his hand still on her mouth.  He grunted and she felt his teeth dig into her as he was trying to keep himself quiet.  There were more voices, but they were loud and boisterous, enough to cover the groans and sighs that did escape.

They both leaned against the wall catching their breath.  The alcove was dark, but Laun could see Ithian’s eyes. Those beautiful, striking blue eyes were looking at her with an openness she had only really seen in him a few times.  She put her hand on his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart beneath the silk and velvet.

“Love, I hope we can do that again.”

Ithian smiled, his white teeth glowing in the night.  “Give me some time to rest, My Love.”  He leaned over and they were kissing.  It was deep and passionate and did not matter who had what title or rank or the past or the future.  It was of the moment.

There was a sound.  A wet sound and then something falling.  Laun was the one to put her hand on Ithian’s mouth to quiet him as a figure dressed in black came into view dragging a body.  They were headed for the alcove Ithian and Laun was in.

Laun had a dagger in one hand and the small sap in the other as the assassin found that the hiding place for the body was already taken.  Laun’s legs did not move the way she wanted, much of her energy having just been drained by the fuck.  She pushed Ithian away from the assassin as a dagger was thrown, hitting the stonework behind where he had just been standing.

The assassin pulled another blade, longer and with barbed cuts on the edge.  Laun moved sideways around the body and fell into a stance, almost literally.  The assassin pulled the cloth on her face down and Laun could see it was one of the apprentices.  They had not left.

The assassin moved and feinted and was always just outside of reach.  The barbed blade came too close several times, catching once on the fabric across Laun’s belly.  Laun saw an opening.  The same one that she used to have that Silar would get in through.  Laun went for a high strike and then dropped to her knees, using the momentum of her arms to follow through but making her opponent block high, not low.

Laun used the sap to block away one last blow from the assassin and felt warm liquid spray against her face and chest.  The body in black fell and Laun had to keep herself from throwing up.

Her hands were on the ground supporting her.  The world was tilting slightly.  Her knees really, really hurt from landing on the gravel.  Her breath was slowing, but still had a metallic taste to it.

Ithian’s hand was on her shoulder.  He was shaking more than she was.  “Was that...?”

Laun nodded.  Her head went up as she heard another sound, closer to the tent.  The tent.  Falmir!

Laun did not know how she was able to get up or when her slippers were kicked off into the night.  She was able to go around a dark lump in the grass and catch up with another figure in black.  She started to yell and scream and, as the figure turned, almost caught the neck of the assassin with her blade.

There were more shouts.  There were footsteps.  Laun was fighting a figure in black with a waning moon as her only light.  She felt her clothing get caught by another of the barbed blades, and then one of the harness straps on her forearm was cut and torn off.  She was able to get a few stabs and strokes in and then kicked out and felt a leg bend the wrong way under her.

The assassin screamed but kept fighting as she fell to the ground.  Laun was able to get within the blade’s range and lost her dagger as it stayed in the wrist of her opponent.  The assassin’s screams were loud making everyone within earshot come running.

There was another assassin.  Laun heard another body fall to the ground behind her.  Laun pulled one of the longer blades from the leg sheath and found she was running after another figure in black.  Laun’s lungs were feeling like she was breathing flames as she pushed herself, her hips and back trying to get her to stop.

There was a bow slung over the back of the assassin running in front of her.  Laun saw the assassin pull an arrow from somewhere and the bow was in the black dressed figure’s hand.  It was in the nock and Laun saw the assassin spin and shoot, not missing a step.  Laun fell to the side and her back gave out when she hit the grass, sliding through and bringing up dirt.

“No!!!”  Laun tried to get up and follow, but her body just would not do it.  She had lost her momentum and now that she was lying in a heap on the ground, the pain was overwhelming.  Her bad shoulder had popped out when she landed and she could not push herself up, but she had to try.  She called for help and tried to get up to go after the long gone assassin until she heard and then felt soldiers around her.

“Princess!  They’re gone!  Princess!  Laun!”

She collapsed into the ground and cried from the pain and frustration of loosing one of them.  She loosened her grip on the blade and broken sap and let herself be held.  She knew that strength.  She needed the strength.

Hunter could feel the trembling from her entire body as she still was trying to get up off the ground.  She winced when his arm went around her shoulder, but she did not cry out as he lifted her off the ground.  He carried her through the darkness now pinpointed with lanterns down to the tent.  The bodies of the assassins and of who they had killed were being brought into what had been a happy gathering.  It was now quiet except for some weeping from the women.

Laun had given a warning in time.  She saw four black dressed bodies being lined up on the ground, each one of them having been with Lady Engrid in the Manor.  Falmir had been in a knot of soldiers, not impossible to get to, but had not been gotten to.

Several of the officers were wounded and Laun was placed with them.  Kell was there and Aloen was there.  The Corporal looked shaken, but his hands were steady.  Laun found that she had been cut on the forearm, but the sheath had taken most of it, and little cuts in the heavy tunic had been the extent of those wounds.  She knew she had to have her shoulder put back and grabbed the front of Hunter’s leather uniform jerkin and looked into his eyes as Aloen’s hands gripped and pulled.

Laun felt the wave of darkness, of nausea, but fought it.  She felt more than heard the scream that came out of her throat, tearing her voice from her.  She tried to focus on her breathing but it was still as if coals had been put into her lungs.  She looked into the dark grey eyes through the water that was in hers and focused on him.  The brother of her Love.  He was one of the loves she had found.  His eyes were Founts’, and that brought her back into focus.

Hunter was saying something.  She was not hearing it clearly through the rushing of her blood through her ears.  She put her hand on his mouth and blinked.  She breathed and shook her head, the motion twisting her back up and the pain overwhelming her again.

“...get you inside.  You don’t have to do anything but rest and heal. We ca-”

Launs mind clicked back into place and she looked around.  She was in pain, yes.  She was bleeding, yes.  But she was there and she had protected and...

Her eyes went to where Hunter was trying to keep her from looking.  One of the tables had a body on it.  There were several tables with bodies, but this one had a particular body on it.  She needed to go see, but her own body would not work and she could not move through the pain.

“Bring me to him?”  She heard her own voice and it sounded small.

Hunter kissed Laun on the forehead and picked her up in his arms.  Falmir was at her side and looked like he wanted to take her from the Sergeant’s arms.  Her father walked with them and Laun was placed on the table with the body.  Ithian’s body.

Laun could not see for a moment as the tears overwhelmed her.  They stung as they fell out of her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

Ithian had his beautiful blue eyes open, but they were looking at nothing.  His pale skin and blonde hair was sightly smudged from falling to the ground, but were still becoming.  His lips were paler than usual, except for the smear of blood along his bottom lip.

Her hand went to the blood on his face, the heat from his body still there, but there wasn’t breath beyond his lips.  Laun sobbed, the pain in her back spiking, but she could not turn away.

Laun looked and saw the belly cut that had killed him.  Up, under the breastbone, into the heart and lungs.  Quick.  At least he had that.

With some difficulty, Laun leaned over Ithian and kissed him one last time, the cooling blood smearing on her own lips.  “I am sorry,” she whispered and the tears flowed so she could not see again.  Her hands found the collar and then the clasp, releasing it and pulling it from around his neck.  She clutched the leather and started to sob uncontrollably.

There were voices, but no one tried to console her.  There were hands, but they did not try to move her.  She found that there were men giving her warriors’ grips on the arm not being cradled to her chest, even from the General who did not believe women were built for combat.  There was an emptiness that was growing and the Darkness was starting to poke it’s head out to try to drag her back down with it.

Laun reached down and pulled the last blade she had from it’s leg holster.  Several hands started toward her, but stopped when she took ahold of her braid and cut through her hair.  It was a symbolic cut, just above the thong at the tail of the braid, but she laid it on Ithian’s chest and closed his eyes.  She had made a commitment to him.  Even if they had not gone through with the marriage, cutting her hair showed the others around her that she had been serious about their life together, just not with a contract between them.  Laun fingered the silver bell once and turned away.

She saw the compassion in the faces around her.  She felt her hair’s weight unbraiding it’s self as she sat there, covering her neck and back.  She was not sure what to do next.  The Darkness was telling her that it was her fault that he was dead.  That if she had just married him, he would be alive.  That more people will be dead because of her.

Laun closed her eyes and shook her head.  She pushed the Darkness down and let the guilt drain from her.  She was still grieving, but it was just that.  She was not going to allow the monster that was below the surface to rule her.

When her eyes opened again, she saw Gem and Hazalam pushing through the people around her.  The blonde went to hug Laun, but stopped when she saw the pain in the arm.  Gem burst into tears when she saw Ithian on the table.  Her legs went out from under her and her head was leaning on the bench supporting Laun’s feet.  Laun could not reach down to touch Gem’s head.  She wanted to.  She wanted to be the strength that Gem needed, but Laun needed strength for herself.

Hazalam put a hand on Ithian’s arm and then his fingertips to his lips.  With a nod from Laun, he helped Gem up and out of the tent.

The officers were starting to stir.  Laun looked up and started to say, “Patrols-”  Shouts started and a volunteer stepped forward for every three men in the tent, regardless of rank or nobility.  There was little that needed to be done to coordinate as almost every noble had gone through warding, every soldier had pulled watches.  There were commands and orders, but mostly for the formality than the actual action.

Falmir’s large hand was on her back.  It was not gentle, but it was trying to be.  “You are brave, my Thorn.  Your actions tonight saved more than were taken.  I am proud of you.  I am proud to be your Father.”

Laun tried to look up.  Her back and neck were seizing, making it difficult to turn or move.  “What am I going to do now?”  It was not what she had meant to say, but it was what came out.

“We’ll find you a safe place to bed down tonight.”  He looked at Hunter who nodded and picked Laun up into his arms.

The pain in Laun’s back spiked and that made her gasp.  The gasp fell to a sob.  The sob turned into tears.  The tears turned into uncontrollable sorrow as Hunter carried Laun into the night.

When Laun wakes, in Chapter 50