the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 21  -   Perhaps a less destructive way of venting would have helped Laun, plus the use of a Safe Word.  Need to know what a Safe Word is?  Check out the FAQ for this and more info.

 

This time, it was easy to find her.  It wasn’t a chance spotting of a bent blade of grass.  She was not silently contemplating her inner voices.  There weren’t any calm looks over the landscape.  

The path she left was wide and obvious.  The destruction caused by the staff-sized sapling she caught off the ground on her run would scar the land and trees for a while.  She screamed, the guttural sound sending some of the woodland creatures to ground.  The sound of the sapling when it shattered on another tree could be heard for leagues through the woods.  When the guards finally caught up with her, she was on her knees, beating the last of the sapling against a boulder, the splinters spreading far around her.

She threw the stub away and looked like she was going to start pounding on the granite rock with her own hands.  The wardsman dove between his Lady and the boulder and came away with a cracked rib for his effort.  Her strike was strong.

In her rage, Laun grabbed the tunic of the wardsman and was about to toss him to the side.  He gasped in pain and she realized what she was doing.  She released him, her hands throbbing from having beat her anger out with the sapling.  The pain in the pit of her stomach was still there and it turned into a cramping that mirrored the throbs of her hands.

The anger was still there.  Laun hadn’t realized how much anger there had been, building for weeks.

The woman of the team lightly touched Laun on the shoulder.  It was shrugged off, but Laun did turn so she could look up.  It was Nan, who seemed to have a conflict raging in her.  The dancer dropped to her knees and took Laun’s hands in hers.  The wetness registered then and Laun saw that she was bleeding.  Nan wiped the blood on her own tunic until Laun pulled away.

“I am of no concern.” Laun turned back to the man and said, “I am so sorry!  I did not intend to hurt anyone!”

He pushed himself off the boulder and sat gingerly on the ground.  “I am here to - ow!  serve, Lady.”  He held his chest and seemed to be trying to breathe without moving.

The anger still ran hot, but Laun pushed it aside.  She had to remember.  One hundred five.

Nan and Laun helped him back to the keep.  It amazed Laun how far she had gone in her rage.  Her hips and back hurt, Laun thinking it from the run through the landscape.  Several others came and took the women’s places supporting him when they were close to the keep.  Nan stepped away from Laun as the other people from the household saw blood on their Lady’s hands.

After having a moment with the injured wardsman, Edgar went to Laun.  His eyes flicked to Nan who gave a perfunctory nod and left.  “I am told that you injured him in ‘training’, Laun.”  Edgar’s amusement was not concealed.  He did take one of her hands and pulled out a chunk of wood, showing it to her in a disapproving manner.

Laun waved it away.  “Is he going to be all right?  I didn’t mean to-”

Edgar wrapped his arms around her and felt the heat and trembling left over from her anger.  “He is fine.  He says you cracked one of his ribs.  He’ll survive.”  Edgar pulled back to look in Launs eyes.  “You need to show that move to me.”

A voice from the people around them sounded alarmed.  “Laun!  You’re bleeding!”

“It’s just my hands...”

One of the women came closer and said, “No.  You are bleeding.”  The calm voice made Laun look down to follow the pointing finger to see the thick, red blood on the inside of her thigh.

“Of course...”  Laun let her self be surrounded by several of the women in the group.  They led her away from the slightly embarrassed men.

Laun was tired.  The adrenaline that had gone through her was spent, the energy and rage with it.  She tasted copper in the back of her mouth.  Now that she was being fussed over by some of the women of the household, the cramping seemed to be worse.  She hated when she menstruated, but this time it snuck up on her.  She had been caught up in the household matters and had ignored her bodies’ signs.  It was worse in the winter.

Both bleeds were cleaned, both packed and padded.  But this time, instead of having to continue to dance as she had done as Peach, Lady Laun was fed soothing teas and given a hot rock to curl around in the middle of the bedding.  One of the women had an instrument and was softly playing tunes that were often used as lullabies.  Laun had Kelli at her back rubbing oils into her skin and relaxing some of the cramps away.  Laun was relaxed and comfortable, as much as the things Lucaris had put into the tea would allow.

Fount looked around the wooden wall and motioned to the women on the bedding with Laun if he could come in.  They nodded yes and he took his boots off as he came to the mat.  Kelli moved to the side and Fount dipped his hands in the warmed oils to continue rubbing her back.  Kelli looked thankful as she rolled away and off the mat.  Her hands were limp to her sides as she left.

Fount was hesitant at first, but since he grew up currying horses in his father’s stables and then at the Salam-Dir keep, he went into the rhythm he used on them.  His hands started on the small of the back where Kelli had been rubbing but soon followed tension to her hips and down Laun’s legs.  He worked around the garment keeping the lower bandages in place.  Her legs were strong and had the deep knots to prove it.  He knew when he had found one when her breathing would change, and when it released, she sighed.

Fount had always enjoyed watching Peach as she practiced, leaping high and spinning with the skirt flowing around her.  Because he had been warned against her, he had sought her out, but after curiosity had been served, he knew he wanted to be around her, even if she was a slave owned by his wardmaster.

He started up the front of Laun’s thigh, rolling her from around the heated rock so he could try to relax the muscles from the front of her stomach.  Laun looked down her body and smiled a little smile.  “I thought the hands were stronger.”

He smiled back and missed a stroke, overbalancing on the bedding and landing awkwardly over Laun’s hip.  She jerked at the pressure, but did not complain or make a move to get him off.  “Sorry, Laun.”  He picked himself up and tried to continue with the massage.  He had lost his rhythm, and where he had landed, he was glad that he had several layers between his Lady and he.  Fount moved to in back of her and worked her lower back again, rolling her back onto the heated stone.

Fount glanced over to the woman playing soothing music and saw the raised eyebrow.  He blushed and was glad that no one else was there.

Of course, that was when Edgar came in.  Ostensibly it was to ask if Laun was well enough to have a meeting, but when Edgar saw Fount’s hands on Laun, oil under the hands of the youth, he had to push back a flash of something he felt he had no right to.  The senior wardsman also saw the flush on the younger’s face, and the way he turned away as Edgar came in.

Edgar knelt on the edge of the bedding and put a hand on Laun’s foot.  “Dreng would like to have a word with you.”

She put her bandaged hands over her face and mumbled, “I was such a fool.”

Dreng had not waited to be announced and was standing at the anti-chamber entrance.  “You smacked around an old fool.”  He looked around and commented, “So this is where you have been hiding.”  He came in all the way and sat on the bedding.  He tried to turn to face Laun, but it was uncomfortable, so he wound up facing away from her.

Edgar sat at Laun’s feet, keeping a hand on a calf.  Fount kept rubbing, but to lightly soothe her, not delve deeply into her cramps.

Dreng took a moment before sighing.  “Lady Laun, for years, I have been blinded by my own power to that which had to have been taken place right under my nose.  When I called you out, I was no better at that moment then when I took your mother’s rank over her silence about your father.  I was not listening, have not been listening.  And if what I think is true, then I know why she did keep it to herself.”

It sounded like Dreng wanted to say something more, but did not.

“Sire...”  Laun had a slightly glazed look to her eyes, but she looked steadily at the King’s back.  “Have I angered you?”

Laun could see his nod.  “But it went through and showed me something about myself.”

Dreng stood and turned to be able to see Laun.  He watched as her eyes closed in the lamp light.  “I will leave you to...recuperate.  Your household misses you.  We can talk more later, sweeting.”  He left without looking back.

Fount and Edgar looked at each other.    The use of the common diminutive for a female relative caught both of them.  Laun was too far removed to have caught it.

Orgia poked her head around the wall and looked around.  “Um, I saw his Majesty leave...”

Edgar stood and motioned the chatelaine in.  “How is the child?”

Orgia shrugged.  She stepped in, but did not come any further.  “Pillar says he may never be able to use his left arm.  If he survives.”  The chatelaine looked down at the sleeping form of Laun.  “We shall have a quiet gathering tonight, it looks like.”  Orgia stepped back and left them.

There was silence.  The woman had stopped playing when King Dreng had come in.  She saw the tension between the two men and not too gracefully excused herself, stepping over Laun’s leg on her way to the door.  Fount continued to stroke Laun’s back, but was staring at Edgars feet, not paying attention to what he was doing.

The head wardsman was looking at the door.  It looked like he wished to leave, but something was holding him back.  He started to step forward when Fount was the one to break the tension.

“It cannot continue.”

Edgar stopped in mid step and turned to face Font.  His junior wardsman was still looking at Edgar’s feet.  “What part?”

Fount pulled a thick quilt up over Laun and stepped off the bedding.  He grabbed his boots and nodded to the corridor.  Edgar followed.

A few paces up the way from the room, Fount leaned on the wall as he put on his boots.  The lanterns had been lit down the way, but it was dark right there.  Not dark enough to hide Fount’s avoidance of Edgar’s eyes.

“Our...agreement.  I think it was the heat of the moment that I went to you, but she...”  Fount looked towards the sleeping room.  “I am sworn to her and will do as she bids, but she...”  Fount just couldn’t say it.

Edgar reached out and put his hand on Fount’s shoulder.  “We have been there for her and protected her, sometimes from herself.  Fount-” Edgar shook the youth and made him look up.  “I know how desperate you feel.  She needs both of us.  She needs all of us.”

“But she wants you.”  He had said it.  He let his eyes go down the corridor again and his hair went over his face, blocking some of the sadness from Edgar.  Not all of it.

It was not in Edgar’s nature to more than lock hands with men, even ones he had been close to.  He was one who would rather step back than forward when emotions were shown from others.  Women were the ones who approached him, and he took from what was offered, as it pleased him, and it pleased them.  He was strong in his inner nature, there to support, but not to comfort.  He had let out some of his emotions, his frustrations, the night at the Inn.  He had shut that down when he had pledged himself to her.  But being around Laun and her need to touch and be touched, and since the first time he shared his cape for warmth, he had found he was no longer stepping back as much.

Edgar put his free hand on Fount’s other shoulder.  “She needs both of us.  And I have seen how she looks at you.  I have never seen anyone look at me like that.  If she knew how to say it, she would choose you.”

Fount looked at his superior, his friend.  He put his hands on the taller man’s shoulders and they stood there for a moment.  Just being.

“I think we need to get drunk.”  Edgar tapped the side of Founts head and led the way to the Great Hall.

 

On towards Chapter 23!  A Traveling Merchant finds the household