Squire Derel

by Rachel Ford

  Otherwise, business proceeded as normal. Here, the representatives from the capital took the lead, working out payment schedules and transportation routes with their Southern counterparts, drafting a joint resolution of friendship and commitment to peace, and so on.

  The rest of us just occupied space, nodding solemnly or applauding on cue. We broke midday for lunch, and the final session concluded mid-afternoon. Alduran had arranged a tour of Cragspoint “for our guests,” and Derel, Aaronsen and I were roped into going along.

  Valarian and one of the kaladorn knights, a KP Nadia, got out of it. “I need to check on the wyverns.”

  “Oh, we can wait, SKP. Or one of our men can do it.”

  “You’re very kind, KP Alduran. But the wyvern are sensitive beasts. They need a familiar hand.”

  “Of course. Well, our stables are at your disposal. Feel free to help yourself to anything you need. And if you can’t find it, our men will be happy to assist.”

  Lidek shook his head, and Valarian managed a smile. “You are very kind.”

  Then, the tour commenced. Once or twice, Representative Freylor tried to insert himself into our party. Here, Phillip’s presence was particularly helpful. He was still clinging to the pair of us, which made it that much harder for the Southerner to slip in. But it was more than that. He picked up on Ana’s discomfort, and my aggravation. The third time the other man came around, he was ready. “Representative Freylor?”

  “Uh…Squire Aaronsen?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Oh. A pleasure.”

  “Likewise. Are you a KP, Representative?”

  “No, not me. I’m a civilian.”

  “Ah. Is this the first base you’ve seen, then?”

  “No. I work with the military often enough.”

  “Are bases there anything like here?”

  Phillip had a seemingly endless supply of questions for him, from the weather to the cuisine to the customs of the South. And, before long, it was Freylor trying to make his escape.

  When the tour wrapped up, it was nearly time for dinner. Alduran had arranged a shared service, conducted by priests from both the North and South. It was a simple affair, avoiding any of the many areas of discord between our divergent faiths. We prayed to the gods, without specifying which ones. While we recognized largely the same panoply of deities, in the North we honored the All Father and Mother Freyja as our primary gods. The Southern priests had elevated a whole slew of minor gods, relegating the Lords of the Heavens to small cosmic roles of little importance.

  So we sang a few hymns and offered generic prayers, while the priests chanted and burned incense in thuribles.

  I was hardly a religious person, or a regular at temple, but I wondered how this sanitized service sat with those who did still believe. I wondered what those men and women of the South thought, sitting in a Northern temple and offering thanks to generic, nameless gods. I wondered what Ana and Phillip thought. I didn’t particularly wonder what Lidek thought.

  On that score, at least, I felt like I had a pretty good idea. He’d be seething. It wouldn’t anger him enough to intervene. No, international goodwill was too important for that. But it would raise the old man’s ire, in the same way that this whole business probably raised his ire.

  We have to smile with them today, Lilia, but that won’t stop war tomorrow. Lidek was the rare kind of man who could see something as a folly, yet commit to it anyway, as the lesser folly in the moment. He believed war was inevitable. But though he’d prepare for it, he’d do what he could to stop it. No matter how much he chafed at the idea.

  That was a different kind of man than Valarian, who seemed ready, if the call had been his to make, to go straight to battle. It was a different kind of man than Alduran, too, who appeared to be his own truest believer.

  Lidek was the man who worked for the best but prepared for the worst.

  Sitting there in the chapel, listening to words I didn’t really believe, watered down a little weaker than even I would have attempted, I wasn’t quite sure where I fell on the spectrum. I was somewhere nearer the commander than the others, but a little more reluctant than he was to jump into the fray. And with too many years of Claxton’s sarcasm thrown into the mix.

  I spent more time in my own head during that service, I think, than I did paying attention to it. Still, I was glad when it wrapped up, and we could leave the smoky interior behind.

  It was time, now, for dinner, and we returned to the dining hall. “Thank goodness. I thought that would never end. I’m starved,” Phillip confided.

  I smiled at that. It had been a long time since I’d been at academy and been witness to the appetites of teenagers. I forgot just how much they ate. “I’m ready for dinner myself.”

  “I hope it’s good.”

  “From what I hear, it may be the first decent meal served at Cragspoint,” Ana smiled.

  I laughed. “Alduran had cooks brought in from out of town. And food, too. I think this is going to be quite the event.”

  It was at that. The smell of fresh baked breads hit us as we neared the hall, mingled with the smoky aroma of roasting meats. I heard my own stomach growl.

  No sooner than had we milled into the room was the mead brought out. Tonight was not going to be an aged wine night, for slow sips and savoring. Not that I’d apparently limited myself to sips and savoring anyway. But that had been the idea.

  This was a feast in the finest Northern tradition, replete with excesses of rich food and an endless stream of mead. The former, I had every intention of partaking of; but the latter, I would forgo, in light of my overindulgence the night before. I wasn’t certain my head could take a second night of drinking, but I didn’t trust my judgement, either. I’d grossly miscalculated once. I didn’t want to risk doing so again. No, it would be water for me, and nothing stronger.

  It was just as well. The seating arrangement divided our party. I was beside Lidek, and I had the impression this was as much to keep the Commander away from the Southerners as me.

  Aaronsen and Derel were a few tables over, seated with the civilian entourage – the priests and, to my dismay, the representatives. Whether through his own machinations or some cruel whim of fate, Ana’s seat was directly beside Freylor’s. I found myself grimacing, and she must have caught sight of the expression, because she flashed me a wan, reassuring smile.

  Phillip was seated to Ana’s other side, with Frilk beside him. The Southerner seemed to be trying to engage him in conversation, and he to be resisting the effort, instead frowning at Freylor.

  It’s going to be a long night.

  I was drawn from my observations by Lidek. “You’re not celebrating, Callaghan?”

  “Sir?”

  He tapped my flagon. “You’re empty.”

  “Oh. Yes. Not tonight. Don’t feel like drinking.”

  “Ah.” He lifted his own mug to his lips and took a long draught. “You’re probably the wiser. But I don’t want to face tonight completely sober.”

  That, I understood, and remarked as much. Soon, though, platters brimming with food made their way onto the table, and thoughts of anything beyond the feast at hand were pushed far from all of our minds.

  Alduran had outdone himself. Even Lidek had compliments to offer, though with palpable reluctance. “Not bad,” he’d say, or, “Well, can’t say I’d have thought to get that in the shire,” or “Hmm, been a long time since I’ve had this.” He even managed, when the fifth meat came out, a, “Ahh. Well. This is how you cook reindeer.”

  Slabs of venison and reindeer, beef and mutton, midland pork and northern salmon, made the rounds, along with every variety of fowl known to the North. Harried servers set out tiny hens and great geese, roasted duck hearts and golden turkeys.

  Then there were the soups. A few lentil-based broths, some with meats and some without, came out first. Then there was mushroom soup, and a salmon soup; a thick kind of chowder, and a thin, sweet fruit soup. I took a spoonful o
r two of each – just enough to enjoy the flavor. Even tasting as I was, I had the impression that I might fill long before the night was over.

  I was thankful for my prudence as desserts were rolled out. The servers hauled out vats of sugared rommegrot, and platters of thin, pan cooked cakes, drizzled in lingonberry and cloudberry preserves. There were wafer-thin cookies, rolled into cones, and airy cream made from the whites of eggs and flavored with wild berries. And the assortment of fruits that accompanied it all must have cost a king’s ransom, especially so late in the season.

  “Good gods,” Lidek half-groaned, half-smiled. “I’m going to be in a sugar coma before the night is through.”

  “Me too.” Even at my current pace, limiting myself to a sample of the sweets set out before me, I had probably consumed more sugar than was healthy for a week.

  I was, therefore, happy when the meal finally concluded, and Alduran informed us that the soiree would continue in the room over. It meant, if nothing else, a chance to escape the culinary temptation. It meant a chance to stretch my legs.

  Lidek, however, grimaced. “Lovely. More small talk.”

  I laughed. “Come on, sir,” I said in low tones, “just a few more hours now.”

  “A few hours too many.”

  We began to mill out of the room. The Commander and I were near the front of the party, and we dutifully set the example. But a voice – Ana’s voice – accosted me before we’d gone very far. “Lil. Lil, you have a minute?”

  I glanced back to see her skirting the line, cutting ahead to join us. My first thought was Freylor, and I nodded. Had I missed something? As the meal progressed, it had consumed the larger portion of my attention. But when I’d glanced at her and Phillip throughout the evening, they’d seemed to be enjoying themselves. Indeed, if anything, they had seemed to be enjoying themselves a bit too much, for they were laughing and whispering together as much as anything else. “Of course.”

  “Good.” She nodded, and I saw her face was flushed, her eyes sparkling. “Not here. Somewhere quiet.”

  “Okay.” I glanced at Lidek. “Give me a minute, Commander.”

  He nodded and continued on his way. Ana, meanwhile, took my elbow, and led me down the hall, to a dimly lit, vacant office. The din of voices grew distant, and she shut the last of it out by closing the door after us. I was asking, “Ana, is everything alright?” when she turned to me.

  Something in her eyes arrested me mid-word. “Better than alright, Lil.”

  I blinked. There was a tenderness, a familiarity in her tone that altogether undid my calm. And as she stepped closer to me, studying me with eyes that shone, I passed a dry tongue over my lips. “W-what are you doing?”

  “Something I’ve wanted to do since I met you,” she said, and her voice was low and husky. A moment later, and she’d wrapped her arms around me, and brought her lips to mine. For all the boldness of the move, it was a timid kiss, gentle and hesitant.

  “Ana…” I wasn’t sure what to say. My stomach lurched as her lips touched mine, and not in an unpleasant way. This was a butterflies and lightning bolts moment, a moment of clarity and understanding. My skin burned at her touch, and my heart danced at her proximity. I saw our friendship, our nearness, our back-and-forth in a new light. I liked her, not just as a clever friend, or a damned good sparring partner, or a quick-witted companion. I saw my own regard for her through new eyes, as if this one act had given me permission to acknowledge that I felt more than friendship for the brilliant, beautiful woman who held me so carefully, so cautiously. As if, in crossing that line, she’d given me permission to acknowledge my attraction to her.

  But she hadn’t. And, even if she had, it didn’t matter. Not really. She was still my squire. She was probably a decade my junior, or close enough. Hell, she was a Derel. But it was more than just the name. She was a brilliant, young almost-knight, with a bright future ahead of her.

  And me? I was just a washed-up country KP, the lady of a crumbling castle, the last of an ancient name. A name that’s glory days were long behind it.

  I swallowed and pulled back. Whatever I felt for her – and, as her hands slipped from my back, and my heart trembled at the sensation, I tried not to think on that too much – I had no business feeling it. “Ana, what are you doing?”

  “Kissing you,” she said, with an impishness to her tone that did nothing to strengthen my resolve.

  “You-you can’t.”

  “Why?” She moved a little closer. “I know you like me, Lil.”

  Dammit. She wasn’t going to make this easy. “I’m your KP.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do.”

  “I’m practically a KP myself.”

  “But you’re not. And it’s not right.”

  “I thought you said that didn’t matter? When you thought I was with Ilyen.” She hadn’t moved. She was still inches from me, studying me with those blue eyes that made my head swim.

  “It…it matters to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Ana, I…”

  “Yes?”

  I cleared my throat, taking a step backward to try again. “You’ve been through a lot lately. It wouldn’t be right, in the circumstance.”

  “I’m an adult, Lil. I know what I want.” She took another step toward me, and another, until her body pressed against mine. I shivered. “And I want you.”

  Good gods. “You’re killing me, Ana.”

  “Good,” she whispered, and the smell of mead on her breath hit my nostrils.

  I flushed. Suddenly, it all fell into place, and I understood. It was the mead talking. It was the mead filling that sweet gaze with amorous intent, that gentle touch with the heat of longing.

  And I had been fool enough to think…well, to think that Ana Derel, and not the mead, might look at me like that.

  She was still talking. “I’ve been thinking, Lil. This business, all of it, it’s got me thinking. About how fleeting life is – or can be. How uncertain.”

  I cleared my throat. “Ana.”

  “Tonight, I realized something.”

  “Ana,” I said again. “Stop.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Stop. You can’t – we can’t – have this conversation.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, for starters, you’re drunk.”

  “I’m not, Lil.”

  “You are.”

  She shook her head and seemed almost to lose her balance. “I didn’t even finish my flagon. I can’t be drunk. I mean it.”

  “No you don’t, Ana. That’s the mead talking.”

  She frowned at me. “Don’t you think I know my own mind? If it’s the mead, it’s only giving me the courage to say what I’ve been thinking.”

  “Stop,” I said, and this time my tone was firmer. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to be harsh. But though it might sting tonight, she’d thank me tomorrow. “I mean it, Derel: no more. That’s an order.”

  She blinked again and nodded. Taking a step backward, she said, “Yes, KP. Whatever you say.”

  Her tone was a strange blend of hurt and sarcasm. It probably would have been more effective, if she’d slurred her words a little less. I sighed. “Hell, Ana. Don’t be mad. It’s just…the liquor’s talking. That’s all.”

  She blinked back a sheen of moisture and turned to go. Her step, now, was unsteady. I could see her teetering from side to side as she went. Dammit. How the hell much did she drink? “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s get you some coffee. Something to clear your head, before we go back.”

  She snorted. “I don’t want coffee.”

  “You’re drunk. You can’t go back there like that.”

  “I don’t want to go back.”

  Her petulance was only confirming my suspicion that she was good and truly soused. That, I suppose, was probably as much a product of my bad example the night before as anything. “Derel, come on.”

  “I don’t
want to,” she repeated, and this time her tone was higher, and more emphatic. “I want to go home. I don’t want to be around men who honored Ilyen’s killer. I don’t want to deal with that creepy son-of-a-bitch Freylor.”

  “Alright,” I said, raising my hands in a placating motion in the hopes of lowering her tone. I didn’t know who was around, and I didn’t know where. The last thing I needed was for all of Alduran’s work to be sabotaged by a curious Southerner overhearing my drunk squire’s ranting. “You can go home.”

  “Good.” She turned again, as if to walk out of the room.

  “Wait.”

  “I thought you said I could go home?”

  “You can. But you can’t just walk.”

  “I want to walk.”

  “I don’t care. You’re not walking home drunk and in the dark. No, don’t argue. You’re going home in the car.”

  She broke from her protests to snort. “You want me driving, KP?”

  “No. Certainly not. I’ll find someone to drive you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Derel

  She did, a Squire Burt Halden, or Halkor, or something like that. He was practically a child, and the idea of being escorted home by a child only added to my humiliation.

  By time we made it to the skimmer, though, I was too delirious to know why I felt humiliated. The KP had given my childlike babysitter her keys, and he tried now and then to make small talk.

  I was a poor companion, ignoring him half the time, and teasing him the rest. “Be careful, Halibut. The KP is very particular about her car.” And, “I’m surprised you can see over the dash, little Halibut.” For some reason, the combination of his names struck me as sounding very like the fish; and that, in my state, seemed supremely amusing.

  He was a good sport, taking all of my abuse in turn, and offering only mild rejoinders. “I’m surprised you can see at all, ma’am. After all the mead you drank,” was probably the harshest thing he said.