19th Winter, 512 A.V.
dawn
Sama'el had heard some disquieting rumors from the Watch, that perhaps the new Sayaph did not approve of an Ankal being among them, that such a man could not see to his pavilion as well as protect Endrykas. If any man, Sayaph or otherwise, came to him with such a claim outright, he would have denied it proudly. Sama'el could do anything, and his pavilion, such as it was now, was largely a collection of self-sufficient people. When Sama'el rode circuit with Ronan and Mealla, his new wife Sandar and his son Emrarre were protected by Leto's command of the mysteries, kept healthy with Denen's skill and goddess' grace, and tended by Daejyn, whose little daughter loved Emrarre desperately, and there was even Xnnn for an added note of protection.
But Sama'el knew that sometimes things came out of nowhere to blindside a man, and if they made him quit the Watch, he wanted to at least see that Ronan was made a member, that he kept his promise to him. Perhaps Ronan might even see that Mealla's education continued, though he himself was newly galvanized to push her toward being accepted into the watch, as well. She certainly wanted it. She just had to train for it.
He would do right by his apprentices, gods help him. And then he would try to figure out how to be productive in some other way in order to support his family. But first thing's first: he had to do right by his blood-brother, his first apprentice, his best friend in the world.
Sama'el kicked Ronan's tent where he thought the man's head ought to be. Thankfully, he didn't know how Ronan slept because the one time they had woken up next to each other had been in front of the campfire after drinking themselves silly. Ronan was the one brother who didn't also want to be his lover, and thank the gods for that. There had been a period of time where he thought his other friends were cramping his style, and then how was he ever going to find a wife.
But there had been Issima, and now there was Sandar, and perhaps there would be a second one eventually. But first, he had to get Ronan into the Watch so he could make a name for himself, earn a wife or two of his own, and help Sama'el sow a new generation of Sunsingers.
"Wake up, lazy arse," he said, kicking at the tent again. "Bring your blades and everything. It's time to see if you're worth recommending to the Watch or if I should just give up on you now."
Sama'el would never give up on Ronan.
dawn
Sama'el had heard some disquieting rumors from the Watch, that perhaps the new Sayaph did not approve of an Ankal being among them, that such a man could not see to his pavilion as well as protect Endrykas. If any man, Sayaph or otherwise, came to him with such a claim outright, he would have denied it proudly. Sama'el could do anything, and his pavilion, such as it was now, was largely a collection of self-sufficient people. When Sama'el rode circuit with Ronan and Mealla, his new wife Sandar and his son Emrarre were protected by Leto's command of the mysteries, kept healthy with Denen's skill and goddess' grace, and tended by Daejyn, whose little daughter loved Emrarre desperately, and there was even Xnnn for an added note of protection.
But Sama'el knew that sometimes things came out of nowhere to blindside a man, and if they made him quit the Watch, he wanted to at least see that Ronan was made a member, that he kept his promise to him. Perhaps Ronan might even see that Mealla's education continued, though he himself was newly galvanized to push her toward being accepted into the watch, as well. She certainly wanted it. She just had to train for it.
He would do right by his apprentices, gods help him. And then he would try to figure out how to be productive in some other way in order to support his family. But first thing's first: he had to do right by his blood-brother, his first apprentice, his best friend in the world.
Sama'el kicked Ronan's tent where he thought the man's head ought to be. Thankfully, he didn't know how Ronan slept because the one time they had woken up next to each other had been in front of the campfire after drinking themselves silly. Ronan was the one brother who didn't also want to be his lover, and thank the gods for that. There had been a period of time where he thought his other friends were cramping his style, and then how was he ever going to find a wife.
But there had been Issima, and now there was Sandar, and perhaps there would be a second one eventually. But first, he had to get Ronan into the Watch so he could make a name for himself, earn a wife or two of his own, and help Sama'el sow a new generation of Sunsingers.
"Wake up, lazy arse," he said, kicking at the tent again. "Bring your blades and everything. It's time to see if you're worth recommending to the Watch or if I should just give up on you now."
Sama'el would never give up on Ronan.
