Duncan sent a large number of the Hlofreden hopefuls on their way early the next morning. This group wasn't escorted by guards, but their numbers alone made them an intimidating mob. As expected, Duncan had me practice alone while he attended to the matters of the inn.
I chose not to use Silah for most of these, as it was a lot like chopping wood with a sword, something that seemed a tad disrespectful for Silah herself. She had said it wouldn't hurt her, but I just felt better using my roughed in campaigner blade for the dirtier tasks.
I had explained to Duncan the nature of our relationship and how she had pushed me on the first time I fought with her against the spiders. Duncan had said that I should train both with and without Silah as my weapon, it would help me to not rely on her strengths, but also to not be led astray by her passions.
I wasn't surprised at his advice, as I could see the way the winds were blowing myself. Although, while it was a problem once, I had been the one getting myself into trouble.
A bit after noon, Duncan was debriefing me on various techniques of single combat. While we were speaking, Silah wandered about, smiling and talking freely with the people she met, as was her way. I could see that it made her feel alive, connected.
"You're an honorable fighter, but you have a tendency to hold back on those smaller than you without knowing it. When I fight with you, I want to feel fear. I want to know I'm facing mortality." He paused for a moment, musing on his own words, "Think of it as, being honest with your opponent. They have a right to know that, when they're facing you, they are facing death."
I nodded at the thought, gripping the unbalanced campaigner in my hand.
I heard Silah, sounding incredulous and annoyed. I was familiar with the tone, as it was usually directed toward me. I turned and looked across the yard, spotting her in the midst of the tables. A man stood toe to toe with Silah, reaching for her. I watched the interaction, seeing her fending off his unwanted advances. Rage welled up in me. I sprinted toward the situation, watching it unfold. He reached for her sleeve, attempting to pull her up to him. She stood firm, pulling back reactively jerking the sleeve and splitting the seam at the shoulder. She looked mortified, her widened eyes turned toward him, glaring. For a moment, I saw a memory of the frightening glowing gaze of the visage looking down on me. There were some shouts from the table behind him, urging him on.
He began to reach for her again, saying something unintelligible, then saw me rushing up.
"No business of yours, mate. The lass and I were just getting to our own matters." He glanced toward me, then craned his neck to look me in the eyes, seeming to question his own muster for nary a second, then he soldiered on.
"Bugger off." He said, sending the stench of ale soaked breath in my direction.
"She's with me." I seethed, feeling the grip of anger clench around me. "Step back, or else."
I bared my whitening fists, readying myself. He glanced at Silah and looked back to me.
"So, this is how it's going to be, half-y?" The man's eyes were watery and unfocused. His friends behind him were equally inebriated, but watching the goings on warily, hands on weapons.
He turned toward me, and raised his fists and postured.
"You think she wants to see that ugly mug of yours tonight, when she could have this?" Spittle erupted from his mouth as he spoke.
My right fist sped out, and struck the man on the left side of his face, the impact felt like a sledgehammer crushing into soft wood. He returned, in kind, sending out a well placed body blow. It shook it off, feeling my anger grow at his attempt.
"You want more?" I growled, looking at him with steeled eyes, "If that's all you got, you'll be on the ground long before me."
Sweat started to pour down his swelling face, he looked anxious, but kept glancing at Silah. He swung again, reaching up, hitting at my jaw, but landed only a glancing blow. I sent my left fist crashing into the other side of his face, sweat misting off of him from the impact. His eyes crossed slightly, and his attempt to hold form were laughable, but he continued, with the unfortunate confidence of the drunk.
"Do you yield?" I punctuated each word.
"Not on your life, Orc!" With the words, he took a dirty shot, going for the crotch, and landing it expertly. I grimaced and caught my breath. He came up with a bloodied half smile, his eyes trying desperately to focus on me.
The final blow was full in the face. I could feel his nose give under the blow and his head rocked back with the impact. He slumped to the table behind him, unconscious.
Glaring down at the man, I stood still for a moment in an attempt to be stoic, waiting a moment for the throbbing ache in my nethers to subside.
Gods, that hurt.
I looked at the others with anger. They were wide eyed, but unwilling to approach. They had their hands on their weapons to see where this would go, but had since decided not to engage.
I picked him up and slumped him against the table. I splashed the remainder of the ale in his face, rousing him.
"I don't want to see him again, you take him back to his room and let him sleep it off." I looked at the others behind him, "I work for the men who are hiring in Hlofreden. If you want a job, you better keep this dirtbag in line."
"And you," I gripped his jaw in my hand, lifting his bloodied face, and hissed, "She's with me. Remember that."
I patted the man down and found a very heavy, jingling bag. I dropped it on the table and opened it up. There was a lot of money in there, along with something that looked like a diamond. I felt a twinge of shame as Silah looked over my shoulder.
"And this is to fix her dress." I took a handful of coins, leaving the rest.
Silah elbowed me, and looked at the bag. I shook my head. This wasn't a shakedown, this was, hopefully, a wake up call. She grimaced at me, rolling her eyes. I walked with Silah back to where Duncan stood. He had moved closer to watch the show, but hung back, letting me resolve my own matters.
"You handled yourself well, there. And, that's what I meant by making others feel fear. Well done. Perhaps, it was because something you … care about was threatened. Keep that in mind for the future. Use whatever advantage and motivation you can in each and every fight."
He continued, "Their room is yours. I'll be putting them out into the stables tonight and they're paying for your stay and meals."
I nodded at Duncan and sighed.
"I didn't mean to cause any trouble." I said, feeling awkward about taking a stand on his grounds.
Silah shot me an incredulous look, but it was Duncan that spoke.
"Stop apologizing. Just, stop. You did this all the time during the war. It was unnecessary then it is unnecessary now. Well, except when you were really out of line, which you rarely were. I remember the other soldiers putting you up to stupid stunts because they knew you'd take the heat for it." He shook his head at the memory with a small smile, "No more, lad."
"You were defending me," Silah said "Why would you apologize for that?"
"Don't read into it too much," Duncan looked toward her with a smile. "I don't understand the boy sometimes."
She tilted her head, looking at me.
"I thought I knew him, at least. Seems like there's something new every day." She mused then looked to Duncan, "You bring out a very different side of him."
I was getting irritated, simmering in my own sweat in the afternoon sun, listening to these to talk about me like I wasn't here.
"Good or bad?" He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say.
"Different? Good and bad are relative." She smiled at him, "It's endearing at least, so that is probably good."
"Well, Miss, you do the same." He glanced back to me, "You've given him purpose."
"All right. Enough of this." I muttered, feeling both aggravated and sheepish. "Daylight's burning."
Silah clucked her tongue.
"And all that gentlemanly charm, gone in an instant," She winked.
Duncan chuckled.
"You know me so well." I grumbled.
"I don't think I can be seen with this sleeve torn like this. It's very unbecoming." She looked disdainfully at the split seam.
It had pulled away to where I could clearly see her slender shoulder, which prompted a flash of desire in me. I swallowed, and took a breath, looking back at Duncan.
"Do you have an blacksmith or a ferris here?"
"Why would I want to go to an armorer?" She said with angered incredulity.
"It's for me. I need to fix this dent. And, maybe, he works with a seamstress. Although, I think that Mont Brooks is where we'll have to go to get the best stitch. We are leaving tomorrow, after all."
She furrowed her brow and glared at me, "Then I'm to be cooped up all day?"
I shrugged.
"We can still practice together?"
Her temper calmed instantly.
"That sounds nice." She smiled and moved to curl around my sweaty arm.
Duncan said nothing while watching the interplay and smiling with a sort of fatherly satisfaction.
"Shall we?" She said, smiling wide.
(Get to know Akeron)
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