.
.
"You've been quiet this season," Aris spoke gently, setting a mug of spiced tea down in front of Dravite on the woven, flax mat.
"It's been a rough season," he admitted, nodding his thanks for the tea.
"Care to talk about it?" Aris offered.
"First Trail," Dravite mumbled.
"Then Bayon," Aris chimed in, "you know the dangers of the job as well as they did."
Dravite fell quiet at the mention of Bayon; no one knew the man's death was on him except the one other being that had seen it, the Dhani stalking the rivers of Endrykas, still undetected by The Watch for the most part, though they knew something was amiss east of the city.
"Cheer up, boy; you still have your health and your family," Aris encouraged.
Dravite took a taste of the warm brew and licked his lips, "you're right," he agreed, "I have no right to mope or complain."
"Then shall we continue with our lesson?" Aris smiled.
The horse lord laughed; trust Aris to get them back on task so quickly, "Lets."
"Tactics and leadership go hand in hand," the elder watchman began, "it's takes careful consideration and planning to lead a group, but before we send you off on your own missions with a group of fresh recruits willing to lose their heads in the name of patriotism, it's important that you remember and exercise the keys aspects of leadership; list them for me," Aris waved before drinking from the wooden mug that housed the spiced tea he had been steeping over the fire all morning.
"The competence to delegate, communication, commitment, intuition, and the ability to inspire."
"And?" Aris coaxed, "up you missed one.
Dravite looked thoughtful for a time before finally answering, "Intelligence."
Aris smiled and set down a wooden board, "this is Cyphrus," he explained before using a wooden pointer to highlight the meaning of the black stones he had set down as markers, "Syliras, Claridon, Riverfall, Kenash, and Xy. Plot out the seasonal grounds for me."
Dravite took up four painted yellow river stones and set them down, "Endrykas is closest to Kenash, Xy, and Syliras in the summer."
"Why?" Aris inquired.
"Because we trade with the stone city during this time."
"But why summer?"
"That is when Syliras harvests their crops?"
"And?"
"Traders are happy to make the journey to our lands for business."
"So?" Aris smirked.
Dravite stared at him, "I agree the reasons are neither here or there; let me finish and I will come back to this."
Aris nodded, "just making sure you're using your head."
"Claridon, ahead of us during the fall, behind us in the winter."
"And Riverfall?"
"Is closest in the spring," Dravite told him.
"Why?"
"I have no idea."
"And if you were in charge, how would you do it?"
Dravite moved the yellow stones around the board, "winter grounds by Riverfall, spring near Kenash, summer would fall where we are now, and autumn where we usually winter."
"Why?" Aris shrugged.
"Because I don't see the logic in wintering near the sea, that cold westerly we endure blowing in off the ocean; it doesn't make sense why we struggle through that."
Aris was quiet for a time; it seemed Dravite had given him something to think about for once."
The silence, however, was short lived as soon the shrill voice of a woman screeched outside, begging for her son, "please! Please," she screamed, "don't take him."
Dravite and Aris both got to their feet to race outside and find that some of the other watchmen were trying to pry a young boy from his mother while they held the woman's arms behind her back, "what in Zulrav's name is going on here?" Aris boomed, "We don't manhandle children or their mothers!"
One of the watchmen was holding the young woman by her hair, pointing her head down as they forced her onto her knees; another was struggling to remove the boy while a third held two younger children in his arms, "we do when they kill in cold blood!" He growled, "This little witch killed my brother!"
"Let him go!" Dravite hissed at the man dragging the young boy off, he couldn't have been much older than five, his cheeks stained red with the blood that painted his mother's hands.
"It was self defence!" The girl cried, still struggling against her captors.
"Who was he?" Aris asked, "The man she killed."
Why is that important? Dravite wondered, killing is all the same, no matter which life was taken.
"Kade Ironhide."
Aris fell silent; Ironhide was a big political name in the city with lots of wealth and influence. Dravite looked up, for he too knew of the name, only for different reasons. The men released the boy and the other two children to their mother; the oldest boy threw his bony little arms around her neck while the other cowered against her sides timidly.
"He tried to rape me!" The woman sobbed.
"He was your husband!" The angry watchman scolded and slapped the girl across the face with the back of his hand.
Husband? Dravite thought, surely they must be talking about a different man, "Kade has been living in Riverfall for years," he spoke up.
"We arrived three days ago," the watchman explained, "Kade was returning to take our father's place as Ankal."
Dravite's heart stopped, he looked from his brothers of The Watch to the woman put on her knees in front of them; the world around him was a blur as his ears rang so loudly with the thud, thud, thud, of his own heart that he couldn't hear what Aris had said next. She was underweight, malnourished, and of average height, had long dark hair, elegant, narrow limbs, and a soft jawline. Her clothes were tattered and torn and she was missing a shoe, her hands and forearms painted with blood; her captor holding the weapon she had used to take the life of her attacker. When she finally lifted her head to look at the man tasked with making the call on her future, there was no mistaking who she was; but did she recognise him?
"Exile," Aris shrugged, "someone will adopt the children."
"No!" Dravite spoke with a voice like thunder; the rest of the men, including Aris, froze to look at the man as if he had gone mad, "it was self defence," he added gently, suddenly aware of his own outburst.
She stared at him with eyes the colour of cooked honey, eyes that remembered; those which had seen too much in the long years that stood between then on now, when they had once known each other intimately. "Dravite," she mouthed, her body going limp as if she had lost all the strength in her limbs, "cruel world do not play tricks on me," she whispered.
Fara, he was now sure; it was her all right. Dravite walked forwards, dropping his spear as he crossed the stretch of earth that separated them. When he moved to stand in front of her his legs gave out and put him on his knees, as if he had been stripped of the bones. The watchmen backed away from the woman, and her children stepped aside nervously. It took her less than a tick to embrace him, a guttural cry ripped from her throat. She felt so thin in his arms and through the fine fabric of her shirt he could feel every rib bone connected to her spine and the unmistakeable bump of a life growing inside of her. Fara couldn't say anything, completely beside herself; she cried and cried until it seemed she might pass out.
"Do you know this woman?" Aris inquired, "Can you vouch for her?"
"Yes," Dravite admitted, "if she must go, I will go too, for she is Windborne; she is my family."
.
.
.
.
51 Fall, 515 AV
3rd Bell, Afternoon
Endrykas
3rd Bell, Afternoon
Endrykas
"You've been quiet this season," Aris spoke gently, setting a mug of spiced tea down in front of Dravite on the woven, flax mat.
"It's been a rough season," he admitted, nodding his thanks for the tea.
"Care to talk about it?" Aris offered.
"First Trail," Dravite mumbled.
"Then Bayon," Aris chimed in, "you know the dangers of the job as well as they did."
Dravite fell quiet at the mention of Bayon; no one knew the man's death was on him except the one other being that had seen it, the Dhani stalking the rivers of Endrykas, still undetected by The Watch for the most part, though they knew something was amiss east of the city.
"Cheer up, boy; you still have your health and your family," Aris encouraged.
Dravite took a taste of the warm brew and licked his lips, "you're right," he agreed, "I have no right to mope or complain."
"Then shall we continue with our lesson?" Aris smiled.
The horse lord laughed; trust Aris to get them back on task so quickly, "Lets."
"Tactics and leadership go hand in hand," the elder watchman began, "it's takes careful consideration and planning to lead a group, but before we send you off on your own missions with a group of fresh recruits willing to lose their heads in the name of patriotism, it's important that you remember and exercise the keys aspects of leadership; list them for me," Aris waved before drinking from the wooden mug that housed the spiced tea he had been steeping over the fire all morning.
"The competence to delegate, communication, commitment, intuition, and the ability to inspire."
"And?" Aris coaxed, "up you missed one.
Dravite looked thoughtful for a time before finally answering, "Intelligence."
Aris smiled and set down a wooden board, "this is Cyphrus," he explained before using a wooden pointer to highlight the meaning of the black stones he had set down as markers, "Syliras, Claridon, Riverfall, Kenash, and Xy. Plot out the seasonal grounds for me."
Dravite took up four painted yellow river stones and set them down, "Endrykas is closest to Kenash, Xy, and Syliras in the summer."
"Why?" Aris inquired.
"Because we trade with the stone city during this time."
"But why summer?"
"That is when Syliras harvests their crops?"
"And?"
"Traders are happy to make the journey to our lands for business."
"So?" Aris smirked.
Dravite stared at him, "I agree the reasons are neither here or there; let me finish and I will come back to this."
Aris nodded, "just making sure you're using your head."
"Claridon, ahead of us during the fall, behind us in the winter."
"And Riverfall?"
"Is closest in the spring," Dravite told him.
"Why?"
"I have no idea."
"And if you were in charge, how would you do it?"
Dravite moved the yellow stones around the board, "winter grounds by Riverfall, spring near Kenash, summer would fall where we are now, and autumn where we usually winter."
"Why?" Aris shrugged.
"Because I don't see the logic in wintering near the sea, that cold westerly we endure blowing in off the ocean; it doesn't make sense why we struggle through that."
Aris was quiet for a time; it seemed Dravite had given him something to think about for once."
The silence, however, was short lived as soon the shrill voice of a woman screeched outside, begging for her son, "please! Please," she screamed, "don't take him."
Dravite and Aris both got to their feet to race outside and find that some of the other watchmen were trying to pry a young boy from his mother while they held the woman's arms behind her back, "what in Zulrav's name is going on here?" Aris boomed, "We don't manhandle children or their mothers!"
One of the watchmen was holding the young woman by her hair, pointing her head down as they forced her onto her knees; another was struggling to remove the boy while a third held two younger children in his arms, "we do when they kill in cold blood!" He growled, "This little witch killed my brother!"
"Let him go!" Dravite hissed at the man dragging the young boy off, he couldn't have been much older than five, his cheeks stained red with the blood that painted his mother's hands.
"It was self defence!" The girl cried, still struggling against her captors.
"Who was he?" Aris asked, "The man she killed."
Why is that important? Dravite wondered, killing is all the same, no matter which life was taken.
"Kade Ironhide."
Aris fell silent; Ironhide was a big political name in the city with lots of wealth and influence. Dravite looked up, for he too knew of the name, only for different reasons. The men released the boy and the other two children to their mother; the oldest boy threw his bony little arms around her neck while the other cowered against her sides timidly.
"He tried to rape me!" The woman sobbed.
"He was your husband!" The angry watchman scolded and slapped the girl across the face with the back of his hand.
Husband? Dravite thought, surely they must be talking about a different man, "Kade has been living in Riverfall for years," he spoke up.
"We arrived three days ago," the watchman explained, "Kade was returning to take our father's place as Ankal."
Dravite's heart stopped, he looked from his brothers of The Watch to the woman put on her knees in front of them; the world around him was a blur as his ears rang so loudly with the thud, thud, thud, of his own heart that he couldn't hear what Aris had said next. She was underweight, malnourished, and of average height, had long dark hair, elegant, narrow limbs, and a soft jawline. Her clothes were tattered and torn and she was missing a shoe, her hands and forearms painted with blood; her captor holding the weapon she had used to take the life of her attacker. When she finally lifted her head to look at the man tasked with making the call on her future, there was no mistaking who she was; but did she recognise him?
"Exile," Aris shrugged, "someone will adopt the children."
"No!" Dravite spoke with a voice like thunder; the rest of the men, including Aris, froze to look at the man as if he had gone mad, "it was self defence," he added gently, suddenly aware of his own outburst.
She stared at him with eyes the colour of cooked honey, eyes that remembered; those which had seen too much in the long years that stood between then on now, when they had once known each other intimately. "Dravite," she mouthed, her body going limp as if she had lost all the strength in her limbs, "cruel world do not play tricks on me," she whispered.
Fara, he was now sure; it was her all right. Dravite walked forwards, dropping his spear as he crossed the stretch of earth that separated them. When he moved to stand in front of her his legs gave out and put him on his knees, as if he had been stripped of the bones. The watchmen backed away from the woman, and her children stepped aside nervously. It took her less than a tick to embrace him, a guttural cry ripped from her throat. She felt so thin in his arms and through the fine fabric of her shirt he could feel every rib bone connected to her spine and the unmistakeable bump of a life growing inside of her. Fara couldn't say anything, completely beside herself; she cried and cried until it seemed she might pass out.
"Do you know this woman?" Aris inquired, "Can you vouch for her?"
"Yes," Dravite admitted, "if she must go, I will go too, for she is Windborne; she is my family."
.
.
.
