“You called for me sir?” As her instruction had progressed she had also learned a good bit about humility and respect. The former she had gained, the latter he had earned from her.
“Our good Abbott has taken in a new ward. A young woman. She's been trained as a ranger thus far, but she will be staying at the temple a while to further her instruction in matters more spiritual.” Brevis looked at her, framing his thoughts.
“I know little of woodcraft sir.” She had an idea what he wanted, but her perverse nature still enjoyed drawing him out.
“Your woodcraft is entirely beside the point. As a young woman here, she is bound to feel isolated. There aren't many of the gentler sex here, and fewer still among the guard or paladins.”
“Gentler sex?” queried Islana, not bothering to hide her amusement.
He snorted, “Obviously that term has never applied to you! My point is that I would like you to show her around, try to put her at ease. This is a difficult time for her.”
“Do you mind if I speak freely sir?” In the past, she would have done so without bothering to ask.
“Go ahead,” responded Brevis, glad that she had at least learned some protocol. He still worried, one never knew where she would go when given free rein.
“I would have done all this without instruction sir. You men over think things. We of the 'gentler sex' are quite aware of each other and very willing to help one another. It shows a lack of trust that you would have to ask, or perhaps ignorance of the workings of women.” She gave him a steady look.
Sir Brevis groaned inwardly, he should have expected as much, “Is that all?”
“Yes sir,” she said primly.
“Then you may take your leave.” Watching her as she went he mused upon her progress. She was still a bit of a wild card. In spite of her confidence, he rather doubted she understood women as well as she thought. Gentler sex my ass! Give them an inch and they'll take your arm off.
Chapter 8
Delia
The girl (some would say ‘the woman’ as she was around seventeen) wasn’t happy. Master Timon had brought her to the Temple of Delwyn in Port Weston, despite her objections, and they were now surveying the inner courtyard. It was pleasant enough to look at of course, but that really wasn’t the problem. She looked at her companion and inwardly seethed. She knew he believed this was for her own good, deep down in his ‘oh-so-kind’ heart, but she understood his true motivations better than that. He’s grown tired of me. That thought alone made her frustration flare again; partly she blamed him, partly herself for being weak. I should have left him before now, rather than let him dump me here, like some unwanted sack of potatoes.
“Well?” Master Timon had never been a man of many words, which had suited her fine; it wasn’t his words she’d been interested in.
“Oh, it’s lovely! I simply adore it. I can’t wait to meet the other ladies. I’m sure they’re all quite charming,” her voice dripped sarcasm. She turned her face up to him, complete with an angelic smile.
“Damn it, be serious! This is for your own good. Whether you realize it or not, you need more than I can give. Goddess willing, you’ll find it here,” his eyes were full of compassion as he spoke. It made her want to slap him.
Instead, she hit him where it would hurt most, “I’m sure the holy brothers here will be able to give me what I require.” She had the tip of her index finger between her lips, as though musing over the possibilities.
He had played enough of her games to be familiar with this one, he had no intention of taking the bait, “I’ll be back to check on you next spring.” He didn’t bother asking her to be good; it would just give her another hook for her barbed comments. Turning away, he headed toward the outer gate.
She stood for a moment, unmoving, watching his back as he walked away from her. A sudden gust of wind toyed with her hair and sent the leaves in the yard flying up. A hard knot, formed in her throat. He’s leaving me. Why does everyone leave? She could feel the tears welling, but she didn’t care. The farther he walked the more alone and empty she felt, until at last she couldn’t stand it.
“Stop!” A ragged cry tore loose from her throat. Loud and harsh, it was a cry full of tears and pain; her composure was gone, leaving nothing but raw emotion. The ranger turned around, and the force of her body rocked him back on his heels as she flung her arms around him. He straightened and held her gently, while she clung to him, sobbing into his chest.
They stood that way for several minutes, until her breathing eased. At last he slowly disengaged from her, avoiding looking at her too closely. He feared that one look from those liquid green eyes would unman him. She searched his face, wanting one more kiss, but she knew he would not relent.
As the ranger walked out, he passed Islana. She had seen more of the scene than she felt comfortable with, but she hadn't been attempting to eavesdrop. The man's face looked like it had been carved from stone. He said something softly as he walked by, “Take care of her for me.” Then he was gone.
She couldn't help but be moved by what she had witnessed. It reminded her of her time with Franz, and that brought with it a lot of emotions she didn't want to face. She smoothed her skirts and cleared her mind; it wouldn't do to greet their new guest with more tears. She had deliberately changed into the simple wool dress she wore on days that she didn't have training, which were few enough. Her instincts told her that armor or leathers might convey the wrong message.
A quick look into the courtyard showed her that the younger woman had gotten her tears under control. Good, I don't want to embarrass her. Excessive cheerfulness would probably be offensive, so she chose a simple greeting.
“Hello, my name is Islana. I've been sent to show you your room and give you a small tour if you aren't too tired. If so, we can save that for tomorrow.” She kept her expression neutral and her tone friendly. Sir Brevis wouldn't even recognize me, acting like this. She rarely bothered to practice gentle social graces around the training grounds. Shows how much he really knows about women.
She took a moment to study the woman in front of her, giving her time to compose herself if she needed it. Delia had a striking appearance, with long auburn hair, some of it flowing freely, while the rest was kept in two long braids. The result was functional, yet entirely feminine. She wore soft leathers and carried a long bow stave, currently unstrung. Her complexion was pale, her face round, almost heart shaped, framing two green eyes.
She's beautiful! thought Islana. I wonder what she'd look like in a gown?
Delia smiled and broke the silence, “I'm sorry, it’s been a long trip, but I'd be very glad of a tour.” She was still a bit red around the eyes, but there was no hint in her voice that she'd just been crying. Islana couldn't help but respect the strength that showed.
They walked partway around the temple grounds, talking as they went, but in the end, they cut the tour short. Delia was more tired than she had thought. She bade Islana good night before examining her room. Small and functional, it appeared less comfortable than a woodland bower. The bed was softer than she expected however, and soon enough she was drifting off, images from the past hour passing through her mind. Islana seemed nice enough, usually women that good looking act like they've got a stick up their arse. She was sure it was just a matter of time, though. Life had taught her that women rarely liked her for long.
***
Delia rose with the dawn, and after dressing, she began searching for the dining hall. The day before had left her hungry, for both food and conversation. The first person she ran into was an elderly woman, who showed entirely too much interest in helping her find her destination. After a long and slow walk, she finally reached the dining hall. With some relief, she spotted Islana already sitting at a table. Excusing herself, she quickly got some breakfast and made her way over.
The food that morning was sausages and hard rolls. Not bad, she thought to herself. She smiled at Islana and began eating in earnest. While she ate, Islana bega
n pointing out various people of interest in the hall, naming them and giving her a description of each person's role and how they fit in at the temple. Most of it was quite tedious. She noticed Islana's eyes lingering on a young man dressed in a simple robe, but she neglected to name him. Delia was nothing if not perceptive.
“Who's that?” Simple questions worked best she had found.
“Who's who?” asked Islana, feigning ignorance.
“That young fellow over there; you haven't mentioned him but you keep looking over that way.” She grinned at Islana.
“Oh! That's Thomas, he's just one of the novitiates, young priests in training. No one special, I'm sure you'll meet him in due course,” Islana kept her tone neutral.
“He's cute.” Delia chewed on her roll, leaning back in her chair casually.
“I wouldn't go that far. He's a bit plain, but I suppose everyone has their own opinion. He's a bit dense when it comes to women anyway.” Islana reached for another sausage, then frowned, she'd eaten them already. Her hands seemed awkward without anything to occupy them.
Delia was hot on the scent, her predatory instincts already awake, “I think he's cute, certainly more interesting than most of these old men in here.” She gave Islana a wink, thoroughly unsettling her. “A bit dense, huh? I take it you're interested in him?”
“Certainly not,” said Islana, a bit too forcefully. The conversation was heading in an uncomfortable direction. “I just meant that, like most of those here he's got more important things to do than seek dalliances.”
“Is that what he told you?” Delia was enjoying herself immensely.
“Pardon? Wait, what?” Did someone tell her about the picnic?
“Is—that—what—he—told—you?” repeated Delia, pausing dramatically between each word. “You're not fooling anyone, so why not share the story?” She said this last with a conspiratorial whisper.
Flustered, Islana tried to set the record straight, “Look, you've clearly gotten the wrong impression. I've no interest in Thomas or any of the other men here. In any case, he certainly hasn't been discussing his interest in women or lack thereof with me. He's just a friend.” She had regained her composure, and she said the last in a cool tone, almost disdainfully.
“Perfect! Then you won't mind if I chat him up a bit?” Her victory was at hand and Delia moved in for the kill.
“Of course not, wait—why? You don't mean...” A woman calmly declaring her intention to pursue a man was beyond Islana’s comprehension. It was as though they were speaking different languages.
“Well, yes silly! I just wanted to make sure he wasn't spoken for. I don't want to tread on any toes; you're my first friend here.” Her smile was disarming, but Islana could swear it was almost feral.
“This isn't a social club or tavern, Delia. Everyone is here for a purpose, service to our goddess. I don't think it is wise to start out like that. Perhaps after a few months, once you've got your feet under you...,” Islana paused; she was at a complete loss for how to continue.
“Isn't that Sir Brevis' wife there—the one you pointed out a minute ago?” asked Delia, putting her new friend off balance.
“Yes, but…”
Delia charged on, “And didn't you say Father Whitmire was married?”
“He's a widower.”
“Ok, so he was married.” This was the most fun Delia had had in ages. “The point I'm getting at, is that there's no reason not to look around. Have some fun! Sooner or later you'll find that special someone, but not if you keep your head in the sand.”
“That's not on my schedule for the near future,” declared Islana. She had gone from bewildered to annoyed. Have some fun? Sooner or later? What sort of fun is she implying? “Obviously, we see things a little differently. Why don't you let me show you the rest of the temple? You still haven't seen most of it…”
“One second!” interrupted Delia, rising from her seat. “I'll be right back.” Thomas was putting up his dinnerware, and she was moving in that direction. She looked back over her shoulder, “You’re sure it’s all right?”
Islana shrugged and threw her hands up in a gesture of exasperation. Thomas was looking at her, clearly curious, though he was too far away to hear them. Helplessly, she watched Delia walk over to him. No, walk wasn't quite the right word. Saunter, or maybe stroll? She couldn't hear what Delia was saying, but she could see the innocent smile. Then Delia put her hand on Thomas' arm, in an altogether too familiar manner. He was saying something, and then Delia was laughing, casually tossing her hair over her shoulder. A moment later she headed back to their table.
“What was that?” Islana was experiencing several new emotions, all of them irritating. She tried to suppress them.
“Oh! Thomas is going to show me around the library later. I told him you suggested him as my guide, and he seemed quite eager to help. Those brown eyes really are something.”
Islana showed her the rest of the temple that morning. Grand Master Brevis had excused her from training so she could help orient Delia, but her initial enthusiasm was gone. Luckily the other girl had stopped asking questions about Thomas, but she still had a sour feeling in her stomach when she thought over that morning in the breakfast hall. Her mind was preoccupied.
“Islana!” Delia was peering at her.
“I'm sorry what?” She realized that Delia had been talking, but she hadn’t been paying attention.
“I asked you where the bath was.” Delia cocked her head to the side, “You seem distracted, is something wrong?” She had a good idea what might be bothering Islana, but she wasn't about to let on.
“No, I'm fine. Sorry I was thinking about an errand I have to do this afternoon.” Brilliant, that'll give me an excuse to get out of this for a while. “The bath is over here, not far really. I think you'll like it; the temple has the best bath in the city if you ask me. Honestly, it’s better even than my father's.” Why did I say that? Islana made a rule of not discussing her privileged background, for several reasons, one being that wealth was often a barrier to new friendships.
She led her to the open-air bath. Delwyn's temple was unique in that it boasted an outdoor bath built into a small closed courtyard. The walls around it bore no windows, for obvious reasons, and it was too small to contain any trees, but flowers were planted around the edges. Islana was not sure if it was a natural spring, or if some clever architect had designed it, but the water flowing into it was always warm, probably due to the goddess’ magic. A small changing room graced the only entrance to it, and the outer door bore a wooden placard which could be changed, depending upon who was inside.
“What's this for?” Delia pointed to the sign.
“It’s to avoid accidents.” Islana flipped the sign over, on the reverse side it read 'women'. “There are a couple more over there as well, one for privacy, but only the seniors use that, the other is for when they're cleaning.”
“Why does this one say 'men' on one side and 'women' on the other?” Delia's face was puzzled.
“So that the men don't walk in when we're bathing! And vice versa I suppose,” answered Islana, it seemed perfectly obvious to her.
“That's rather odd. Wouldn't it be a lot more fun with mixed bathing?” suggested Delia.
Islana gaped at her, the very thought made her blush, “No. I don't think it would. Look over here. We shut this door, making sure the sign is up, then you can change in here. Just don't spend more than half an hour or so—sometimes people get impatient.” She couldn't wait to get away.
“Aren't you going to bathe as well?” Delia looked a bit disappointed.
“Well, I hadn't planned on it, and I do have some things to take care of.”
“Please! I don't want to go in there alone my first time here. What if someone shows up?” She gave Islana her best 'little-girl-lost' look.
In the end Islana relented, she could understand the other woman's nervousness at disrobing in a strange place. After all, the temple was almost eighty percent
men, a fact to make any lady careful at a public bath. As they undressed she couldn't help but measure the woman next to her. For a moment, she hoped Delia might have some hidden disfigurement, but she quickly dismissed the idea as uncharitable.
Beneath her rough garments, Delia's body was quite supple. She had a lithe grace and a slender frame, and while not being overly endowed, her proportions were well balanced. She was also surprisingly well muscled. She caught Islana's eye for a second.
“Doesn't look like you have anything to worry about,” said Delia, grinning as she slipped into the steaming water. “Oh! This feels good!” Her prior experiences with bathing mostly involved cold streams.
“What do you mean?” Islana tested the water, then eased herself in until it covered her up to her shoulders. She had secretly become quite addicted to bathing since coming to the temple.
“Your breasts! They're very generous. You must garner a lot of looks during training,” Delia said this with a mischievous grin, her eyes lit with humor. “Do they interfere when you're sparring?”
“Hah! You should ask Walter about that.” Despite her initial annoyance, the warm water improved her mood, and she wound up sharing the story of her sparring match with Walter. That set Delia to laughing, and soon they were chatting like two school girls. Maybe we could be friends. Islana decided to reserve judgment for now.
Chapter 9
Evening Reflection
An hour later they were dressed, and Islana felt much better for the bath. She had changed her mind about the afternoon, thinking it might not be so bad to spend some more time with Delia. Their plans were interrupted however, when she encountered a messenger in the hall leading to the women's dormitory. “The Grand Master requests your immediate attendance in his study.” The guard had a serious bearing.
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