Chapter XI
"Um, yum," Gwen hummed in delight as she smacked her lips in appreciation. "This was a good idea."
The blue eyes inches from her own twinkled in delight before Randi withdrew and moved back to the fireplace, picking up her stick and adding a couple more marshmallows to the end. "So we can do this again, huh?"
"Ummm hmmm," came the instant, hearty agreement. "We can do this anytime you want, Stud." The warrior’s figure was backlit by the firelight, and Gwen just watched the movement and flexing of muscles in sincere appreciation. And even though her eyes followed Randi’s progress to the side of the couch, she was a bit startled by the soft, sweet touch on her lips. Her mouth opened to accept the treat and Randi’s kiss, and she surprised the Sabre by wrapping her arms around the taller woman’s neck, and deepening the embrace.
It continued for long moments, before they mutually pulled away to breathe.
"Um, whoo," Randi exhaled as she gazed into the bard’s dreamy eyes. "What was that for?"
"Do I need a reason?"
"Uh, no, but...."
"Good. I was just showing a little appreciation for what is mine."
A feral glint entered the Sabre’s eyes. "Yours, huh?" The blonde head nodded emphatically. "I think I like that," Randi added, her eyes and voice softening as she dropped her lips to catch Gwen’s once more. The stick fell to the floor with a clatter when the Marine wrapped her arms more securely around the storyteller’s lithe body.
They moved apart again, and Randi slid partway down Gwen’s body so she was nestled between the bard’s legs with her head resting on the firm belly. The bard’s hands came up to scratch the dark head gently, and the Marine reciprocated by running a light stroke up the smooth arms. After a full minute of this in silence, Randi tipped her head back awkwardly to catch Gwen’s eyes.
"So, you have a story to tell me, my little rebel?"
Gwen couldn’t help but laugh at that, both from the mischievous looking sparkling back at her and from her own, long forgotten memories.
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"I was seven, and you have to keep in mind the fact that for as long as I could remember, I’d been telling stories. I could see the pictures and colors so clearly that sharing them was almost a necessity for me. Now, don’t misunderstand... Mother and Daddy never once forced me into something I didn’t want to do. But it is hard sometimes to know you are completely different from everyone around you, especially as a kid."
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A soft touch on her thigh brought the bard back to the present, and she glanced down to see deep blue eyes gazing back at her with compassionate understanding. Gwen smiled, and tenderly resumed the light caress on Randi scalp. The warrior closed her eyes in perfect contentment, and the bard was able to continue her story.
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"At seven, all I wanted was to be like the other kids I saw around me. I was the youngest student in the Artists’ Guild, and most of my education was focused on developing my gift for story telling. Looking back, I couldn’t have asked for a better or more secure upbringing. But living it day after day was not always easy.
Daddy worked at home, so he took me to the Guild for school every morning. And we passed the local neighborhood school on our way, where all my weekend playmates attended.
Now for three weeks, all the kids had talked about was their upcoming field trip to the science center, and I had begged and pleaded to go with them. So when Daddy dropped me off at the Guild that morning, I decided if I couldn’t go with them, I would go by myself.
I went to attendance, and sat through class until the first break rolled around. Then I calmly walked out the front door, and headed for where I thought the science center was. Of course, being seven, and never having been on my own before, it didn’t take long before I was completely and totally lost. Not that I actually noticed it at first. I was enthralled.
It didn’t occur to me to be scared. I was too busy investigating the world around me in a light I had never expected to see it from. Everything looked different, felt different, and I was having a grand old time. Right up until I realized that not only did I not have the first clue where I was or how to get home, I also had no lunch. And I was getting hungry.
Now I didn’t know that Daddy had been notified the minute I left Guild property, nor did I know that the local law enforcement personnel were keeping an eye on me. I started crying, looking around for somebody I knew, someone who could help me.
I was scared at first when the officers approached me. But Daddy had always insisted that if I ever got into trouble, the nice people in uniform would help me out. So I took each officer by a hand, and walked between them down to the precinct office.
They fed me pizza and chocolate milk, and then the officers who found me asked me why I was out wandering around during school hours. So I told them. I told them about everything I had seen and done. Every officer in the room stopped what they were doing to listen. I didn’t think it odd... until the Captain cleared her throat and everyone went back to work when she and Daddy came in the room. I thanked the officers nicely, and took Daddy’s hand."
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Gwen stopped talking then, remembering. Randi looked up, and wondered about the peculiar smile on the bard’s face.
"Um, Gwen? Love?" waiting until green eyes met her own. "Whatcha thinking about?"
"Hmm, just remembering the talk Daddy and I had after my little impromptu field trip. And the ice cream party we had with the neighborhood kids that weekend."
Silence again for a little bit while Randi tried to find a tactful way to ask. Finally she mentally shrugged and just asked. "So none of those kids were your friends?" remembering a conversation they’d had several months prior.
"It’s kind of hard to explain." Gwen closed her eyes and offered up a short prayer for guidance. "We were all friends, in that we played together some on the weekends. I was never excluded as far as that went. But there was so much we couldn’t share because we didn’t go to the same school, and I had performances at least once every weekend. A lot of times we were gone for the weekend. My life was just so different from theirs that there wasn’t a whole lot we had in common, and as we got older it was more obvious."
"I’m sorry. That sounds...."
"I’m not," Gwen cut in. "What would have been the odds in us meeting if my life hadn’t happened exactly the way it did? If I hadn’t been a bard, I wouldn’t have been at Midas the day you arrived. Our lives crisscrossed because of who and what we are, and I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant giving that up." The bard paused and swallowed, shifting until she was resting on Randi’s chest. "Can I be honest?"
The dark head nodded and large hands traced up the strong back, curious as to what revelation was coming.
"I knew my life was different from those around me, but most of the time I didn’t mind it. I liked it, and I loved being able to tell stories. It was something I needed to do, even as a child." Randi nodded again, waiting. "But I never realized how lonely I was, how isolated I’d become, until I met you. You opened up the world for me. And that was something no one had ever done before. So you had to be my first real best friend."
Randi focused her gazed on Gwen, and the blonde could see the faintest hint of tears in the blue eyes. "Funny," the warrior whispered. "You did the same for me."
Gwen slid off the warrior’s body and reached a hand down to help her up. "C’mon, Stud. It’s been a long day, and I am tired." They made their way over to the big bed, and crawled between the sheets with a sigh. "God, that feels good. What do you want to do tomorrow?"
"Well there is that social in town, if you’re interested."
Oh yes, let’s. I’d like to meet some of our neighbors."
"It’s a date, then. Goodnight, love," and the room fell silent as the couple fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
"Oh, what a beautiful mornin’. Oh what a beautiful day. I’ve got a beautiful feelin’... everything’s goin’ my way."
The words floated softly around the cabin, and Gwen peeked out from the covers she found herself alone in. Randi was moving quietly in the kitchen area, and the smells that were emanating from that direction were causing the bard’s stomach to rumble. She pushed the hair out of her eyes, and sat up yawning.
"Good morning, gorgeous," the Marine greeted with a big smile. Her hair was still wet from its recent washing, and Randi was already dressed for the day.
"Good morning, beautiful," Gwen answered, giving her soulmate a peck on the lips before pushing the cover aside and standing up. "Let me go get cleaned up... do I have time?" A motion in the direction of the kitchen. At Randi’s nod, the bard gathered her clothes together. "Casual, I take it," she added, motioning to the Sabre’s well-worn jeans and flannel shirt.
"Yep. Everybody here likes to be comfortable first and fashionable second."
"Thank God," Gwen muttered as she shut the bathroom door, even though it was still loud enough for the warrior to hear her. Randi just chuckled, and returned to her station by the stove.
"Do we have time for a walk? I feel the need for a bit of exercise."
"Yep, we sure do. We can even do some more sparring later if you want. The social is a late morning/ early afternoon deal. Most of the people around here hold to the old traditions, and are in bed pretty early, so they do their socials early as well. Gives folks plenty of time to talk and catch up."
"Very nice. This is the first place I have ever been, besides the Amazon town we were in that one time, that does something like this. I think it is intriguing." She took the larger hand in her own. "Now, c’mon, before I decide I need a nap instead."
They walked in silence for a while, Randi guiding them along a path through the thick forest of trees. Not much snow had penetrated here, and the leaves made a carpet of sorts beneath their feet. She turned to ask Gwen a question, and was caught by the furrowed brow that cut a deep frown into the blonde’s features.
"Love?" she asked, stopping their progress, and waiting for the green eyes to track to her and become focused. "What’s wrong?"
Inexplicably, a tear rolled down Gwen’s cheek, and she swiped it away hurriedly. "A memory, I think. Another Soulmate’s story."
"Not a pleasant one, huh?"
The blonde head shook negatively. "No. I... it...."
"Tell me about it."
"But...."
"Please. Let me help carry the burden as well as share in the joy."
Gwen nodded, smiling her heartfelt thanks before she tugged on their joined hands. "All right," she agreed. They resumed their walk and Gwen took a deep breath to start her story.
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Being a spy was dangerous and exciting, and Jacques had always relished the edge he lived on. It certainly didn’t hurt that he lived the high life as a perk of his job, and he considered himself to be lucky as well as happy. That changed the day he met Nigel.
Their first encounter left the two men stunned by the feeling of almost intimate familiarity that washed over them, as though they had known one another for years. In point of fact, not only did they not know each other, but they had no idea they were playing at a deadly game... one that would one day cost them both very dearly. They were enemies, opposite numbers on the same playing field. And by the time they exchanged this knowledge, it was far too late.
At first, they met openly at parties and soirees, establishing a connection which each hoped would help his side’s cause in the war they were engaged in. Soon, that wasn’t enough, and they began to meet a little more privately outside the social gatherings, and their causes took a back seat to the more personal bond they could feel growing between them.
Nigel as it happened, was something of a successful playwright as part of his cover, and one evening they were set to attend the opening night to his newest production. Jacques knocked on the door of the penthouse. When Nigel didn’t answer it, he knocked again, and called out. When there was still no answer, Jacques turned the knob to find a nervous, half-clad playwright pacing back and forth, alternating between wringing his hands together and twisting his neckwear beyond recognition.
The dark haired man entered the room fully, and hung his cloak and hat on the stand reserved for such. Then he walked over and took the blonde’s hands in his own, chafing them lightly. "Nervous?" Jacques asked, smiling.
"Yes. And it’s worse this time because of you." The blue eyes reflected profound hurt, and Jacques started to pull away. "No, love," the endearment fell from Nigel’s lips unbidden. When he realized his slip, he tried to pull back. But Jacques held him with a gentle strength and a blinding smile.
"Love?"
Green eyes dropped to the parquet floor, and the blonde head gave a single nod. "I’m sorry, Jacques. You probably think me some sort of pervert, but...."
Long fingers covered the soft lips and mustache. Then they circled to lift the chin so they met eye to eye. Jacques pulled Nigel more firmly into him, and the smaller man was able to feel just how incorrect he had been in his assumptions.
"No, beloved not perverted at all. Do you feel what you do to me, how hard and ready I am for you just knowing that you love me?" Tapered fingers traced his soon-to-be lover’s lips. "How I have longed for the courage to tell you." Slowly the dark head lowered, until they were breathing the same air. "I love you, Nigel. And as soon as this play is over, I am going to spend the night showing you just how much."
Nigel moaned at the words, and drew the taller man down to meet his lips furiously, passionately. Jacques brushed a hand over the blonde man’s nipple, and mutual groans echoed in the room at the sensations the single touch caused.
"Forget the play. Make love to me now, Jacques."
The temptation was almost overwhelming. The playwright tasted so good, and he was so obviously hard and ready. And the needful groaning so evident in his voice almost pushed Jacques right over the edge.
"No, sweetheart. You especially have to be there tonight. But I promise to make it worth your wait," and he seized Nigel’s mouth in another searing kiss.
The play was an outstanding success, and Jacques made good on his promise. As dawn crept over the horizon, the couple lay twined together, supremely sated and talking quietly.
"There is something you need to know, my love, before we go any farther," Jacques spoke softly into the quiet stillness of the early morning. Nigel was comfortably resting on his chest, running idle fingers on his torso. The blonde man looked between them, remembering the night they had just spent together, and even now seeing Jacques’ manhood start to harden again at the light touches Nigel was lavishing on him. "Oh, God, Nigel, please. I can’t think when you do that."
"Thinking is sometimes overrated, lover," as his hand moved strategically, and the stroking became firmer.
A large hand came up to cover the smaller one. "Please, this is serious."
"What is it, handsome?" Nigel asked rolling the two of them over so that he rested half on Jacques’ body. The blonde laid his head down, and listened to the slowing rhythm of the other man’s heartbeat. "I don’t think we can get more serious together than we have already been."
Then Jacques started talking, and the green eyes got big and wide as understanding dawned on Nigel. When the older man stopped talking, the blonde lay absorbing it all, before taking a deep breath and answering.
"This is unbelievable," and he began relating his tale.
When the two were finished, they lay there considering their options, realizing the trouble this could cause for them both, but not understanding the grave danger they were already in.
The next nine days were heavenly for the couple. Even though they were apart during the daylight hours, nights found them blissfully wrapped up in one another, strengthening the love and the bond between them. In the early morning hours of the tenth day, long before daylight crossed the sky, their world came crashing in around them.
They were spooned around each other, having fallen to sleep a scant hour before when the door to the apartment bedroom burst opened, and they found themselves separated and yanked unceremoniously from the bed. Forced to their knees, their hands were bound, eyes covered and mouths gagged before they were drug, still naked, out the door, and into the cold winter night.
The blindfolds were removed, and they could see the stage setting for their mock trial. The clearing they were brought to was surrounded by trees, and from one of the stronger ones hung twin nooses. At least we will die together.
The supercilious sneer made it easy to spot who the instigator in this plot was, and Jacques shuddered. It was one who had desired him, and been turned down flat repeatedly, the last time only five days prior. Though they would be hanged for treason, the truth was that jealousy was the motivating factor involved in the entire scenario.
"For treason to the crown, and consorting with the enemy, not to mention your obviously perverted ways, Jacques Xavier Trenchant, you are hereby condemned to death by hanging. Do you have any last words?" A disdainful silence met his question. "May God have mercy on your soul."
The horse Jacques sat on was led to one side of the tree, and the noose placed carefully around his neck. He met the green eyes of his lover directly and honestly. "I will wait for you, beloved."
"Now, isn’t that just too special," the other man mocked derisively. "Just for that, you can watch him die first, Trenchant."
"As an enemy of the people, Nigel Donovan Masters you are hereby sentenced to death by hanging from the neck until dead. Do you have any last words?"
Green eyes met blue squarely and their world narrowed its focus to the two of them.
"I love you, warrior."
"I love you, bard. I’ll see you on the other side."
"I’ll wait for you."
Nigel was jerked unceremoniously back to reality when he was dragged to the second noose and felt the rough hemp slide over his head.
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"It was over in two minutes, and their bodies were left for the scavengers to find. This grove, these trees, just reminded me of their story, and the heartbreak I felt that they, *WE* had so little time together in that life. How did they get caught so easily, do you suppose?"
The warrior took a moment to consider, eyes suddenly lighting in a smile with remembrance. Gwen’s forehead scrunched in confusion. "What is that look for, love? It wasn’t a happy story."
Randi took the bard in her arms then and halted their progress. "No, it wasn’t. But I was actually thinking about your question and it reminded me of something."
"Oh?"
"Um hmm. You see, I was very good at my job, and unless I wanted to be seen, I wasn’t. But I was trapped and caught by a pair of green eyes one night, and almost gave myself away." Gwen continued to look confused, and the Sabre chuckled.
"It was during your overseas tour. You were at a base, pretty remote, and the entire camp turned out to hear you. I had been on a mission that turned particularly ugly, and all I could think of was that I wanted to go home. Imagine my surprise when I found that not only could I not leave, but we were expected to attend some sort of function the commander had planned."
A gasp. "It WAS you." A shaking hand riffled the blonde hair as Gwen turned her eyes to meet Randi’s. "We were outdoors... we had to move because they wasn’t room for everyone in the mess hall. I had this sweater on, as a matter of fact," looking down at the article in question. She bit her lip in thought. "I was telling a Soulmates story...."
"Francesca and Evangeline were soulmates?" Randi asked quietly.
"You remember?"
"I remember every story you’ve ever told in my presence." The warrior paused, seeing the stunned look on Gwen’s face. Randi blushed slightly and cleared her throat. "The first few times I heard you, I was amazed that you had so many different stories. Most bards that I’ve heard have a limited repertoire. You never seemed to have that problem. The only times I heard a story more than once, it was by special request."
The look in the blue eyes prompted Gwen to ask. "Is there a story you want to hear again, love?" She moved her hand to touch the scar, and was struck by how faded it now was. It was only a brief passing thought that slipped away as the bard’s hand continued its path downward to link with Randi’s.
"I... um, I, well, I always felt like that story was never finished. Like it was incomplete."
"It was... at least that night. For one thing, parts of that tale are private, for the soulmates only to share. And honestly, when I looked up and thought I saw you looking back at me," the blonde head shook, and Gwen chuckled. "Do you know the only times I have stumbled in a performance have been because of you? Seeing... *recognizing* your eyes in the darkness caused me to lose all rational thought, and I wrapped up the story as well as I could quickly. I tried to find you, but you disappeared."
"I had to. But I really liked that story. Would you tell it to me again? I’d like to hear it with all the parts and the real ending."
"We deserve a happy ever after story after Jacques and Nigel. Let’s head back to the cabin, and I’ll tell you the story on the way. Francesca and Evangeline was always one of my favorites."
Randi grinned and pulled Gwen to her by their linked hands. "Have I told you today how phenomenal I think you are?"
The bard laughed. "You’re so crazy, and I am crazy in love with you."
"Oh, sweetheart, that is very mutual. Now c’mon. You got a story to tell." Randi turned and tugged Gwen toward the small house.
Gwen froze, and the expression that crossed her face was inexplicable before her chin dropped to her chest. The warrior snapped around at the sudden stop, perplexed. She looked at the bowed blonde head, wondering what she had missed in the scant seconds she had been turned away from the bard.
"Gwen?" she whispered, sensing the confusion flowing off her soulmate in waves. "Love, what’s wrong?"
Tear filled green eyes met Randi’s, and she could see the joy reflected in their depths. Wondering what could have caused such a conundrum the warrior spoke again hesitatingly. "Little One?"
Gwen reached a hand up to cover Randi’s mouth, smiling when the soft lips brushed a kiss over her fingertips, then smiling broader as she felt the mouth form its own smile. She swallowed hard twice before she was able to give voice to her emotions.
"You gave me back my stories. You gave me back my muse."
The warmth that flooded her being at Gwen’s joy was gratifying, but even as she enjoyed the sensation, Randi answered with a slight shake of her head. "No, love. This was all you. I simply provided a willing audience."
"No, Randi. You don’t understand. You’ve *always* given me back my muse." Gwen looked at their linked hands and brought them to her lips for a kiss before she resumed walking again. Randi continued to walk beside her, content to wait as the bard sorted through her thoughts for the words she needed to say.
"Every time I have come to a crossroads in my life, every time I have had to struggle for the stories and fight for the words, you have always been there for me. The first time you saved my life, and gave me a hero to focus on. My stories took on a whole new quality, a new depth." A pause.
"The second time, you saved my spirit. I was so tired, so discouraged that day, but seeing you take up your burden and carrying on... it touched something in me. Set off a spark that burned for years."
Tears slid silently down Gwen’s cheeks even as a smile crossed her features. "Today I realized that you have saved my soul. Not only have you given me back my muse, but you have woven your soul into mine. I was incomplete until we met, and without meaning to we became a part of one another. Not that I caught a clue until you were gone," wryly. "When you came home to me, I was whole again. And my muse was free. My muse is inherently wrapped up in you... in us. You coaxed her back out to play again. Thank you, Randi."
"Nothing I did on purpose, love. And it works both ways. You know that, right?" She stopped a moment, lost in thought. "We have given to each other... because you certainly did the same for me and more. Now," said with a laugh and a tug on their linked hands, "enough with the mushy stuff. I wanna hear about Francesca and Evangeline."
Gwen had to laugh just a little at the petulant voice and the tiny little pout. The warrior reminded her so much of a little child with that expression. "C’mon, Stud. We have a party to get ready for, and I have a story to tell you."
"This is paramount, Usher. The Master has assured me we will be successful, and this will solidify our efforts toward rebuilding. I am trusting you with everything, my friend."
The blonde headed man looked at the hologram of the man he considered to be a brother and nodded his head in agreement. "Don’t worry, Bramble. Once Valiant is taken care of, the way will be clear for us. We will continue the work your mother started." He finished dressing, adding his weapons to his armor and checking things thoroughly.
"That we will, Ush," the black haired man answered. "We will *finish* her work, and the world will know chaos once more." Bramble sighed. "I only wish I could be there to lead you, to take her out personally, but the Master has ordained that I remain here for now." His handsome features hardened and turned ugly. "You make sure she suffers greatly, Usher. She deserves to die painfully for all the grief she has produced... not just for me personally, but to our cause as well."
A cold, evil smile creased the blonde’s face. "It will be my pleasure, Bram. She owes us, and I intend to see she pays." He finished his final check and nodded in satisfaction. "Wish me luck, my friend. The time has come to extract payment from Miranda Valiant."
"Do well, my friend. Our time is near."
The closing of a door was his only answer.
"This is so not good, ‘The. What are we going to do?"
"Their bond is strong, Dite. You’re gonna have to give them some credit. You’re gonna have to give yourself some credit. You didn’t miss with this one. They will be all right."
"Yeah, but what will they have to endure in the meantime?"
"Keep the faith, sister. If we lose faith, how can we expect them to believe? And we need them to believe in themselves and each other. That is where their strength lies, and that is how they will overcome."
"Ya think?"
"No. I know. Trust me."
"Excellent, my children," the dark god chortled to the images his brown eyes beheld in the scrying bowl he was currently focused on. "You will be the instruments to launch her final awakening, and with it will come the alliance I have waited millennia for. Finally my time has come, and nothing, NOTHING is going to stop me."
He continued to watch the preparations, a dark chuckle emanating from his chest. Success was very nearly in his grasp.
Chapter XII
"It was a different time, and a different place."
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Francesca stood at the portal taking in the sight of the earth that surrounded her and sighed. Master of all I survey, she thought derisively, but what a hard fought battle to get here. Truth on many levels, but at least it was done now. Peace had settled in the region for the moment, and she was free to concentrate on bringing prosperity to her clan.
A commotion caught her eye, and she sighed again, wondering what sort of mischief her men were up to now. Her army was strong and full of high-spirited men who forever needed a guiding hand to keep them in line. Not that she herself was above temptation or having a little fun, but some behavior was simply unacceptable, and from the looks of the melee below, this had the potential to turn ugly quickly.
She walked out the door and down the stairs, stepping out the door into the courtyard. Her cloak swirled around her legs as she took a minute to absorb the late autumn sunshine before moving over to the ever-growing crowd of men. She couldn’t make herself be heard over the catcalls and hooting, but a sharp tap on the shoulder in front of her garnered the attention she needed. The man grumbled but stepped aside, pulling on the arm of the woman in front of him. She jerked away until she met fierce ice blue, and slowly the army moved aside to allow their leader an opportunity to view for herself the cause of the present commotion.
Francesca didn’t know whether to shout or laugh, so she schooled her features into a stoic mask, only the twinkling in the blue depths revealing her hidden mirth. She crossed her arms over her chest, braced her long legs firmly, and regarded the latest subject of amusement.
It was a... boy? Girl? Woman? Whatever it was, it was hard to tell underneath the tunic and trousers and the layers of dirt and grime. It was also tiny, and very defiant. The being had golden hair with more than a hint of auburn shining in the light of the setting sun, and held a staff of sorts in front of itself to keep the army from getting too close. The voice was husky, leading Francesca to believe the individual was indeed a woman.
The warrior stepped forward, and her army by correlation stepped back a pace to give their leader room to work. She stepped closer, careful to stay out of range of the stick, and noting that the figure kept its back to the wall and its rather intense green eyes focused warily on her.
"What’s your name?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because calling you ‘Hey, You’ will get old real fast."
"What’s yours?"
Francesca didn’t even try to hide her chuckle, and the army tittered behind her. A fact that only served to increase the fire in the green eyes that faced them. "My name is Francesca. Now, do you have a name?"
"You can call me E for now."
Now the warrior was certain the person in question was a woman. There was no other reason for her to hide her identity. She decided to allow the young woman a bit of anonymity in the hopes that it would help her to relax.
"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, E. What brings you to my fortress?"
"It wasn’t of my own free will, I assure ya."
"OH?" A single syllable, and an arched brow as she looked around the camp, and everyone felt the temperature drop. Francesca turned her gaze back to the small person now watching her with a look of almost awe. "Point out who brought you here."
E took a breath and raised her hand, but before she could open her mouth to speak, a young man stepped forward.
"It was me, Mistress. We was only havin’ a bit o’ fun. Honest." His eyes dropped to the ground as the warrior’s stare pierced him. "This one," with an offhanded motion toward the smaller woman, "stumbled into the guard post, then wouldn’t tell us nothin’ about herself. We figured her for a spy, so we bought her here. Now she says she’s a bard."
"Did they hurt you?"
E was caught off guard by the swift change in subject, and had to stop and think about the question before she answered. "No, not really. I wasn’t particularly cooperative." There was almost a twinkle of mischief peeking out of her eyes, and Francesca couldn’t help the slight response in her own.
"Are you a storyteller, truly?"
"Yes, I truly am. My name is Evangeline."
"Well, Evangeline," rolling the name off her tongue smoothly. "Why don’t you come with me?" She looked around the encampment once more and raised her voice. "I believe the rest of you have chores that need finishin’. Get to ‘em. Maybe if we ask nicely, our guest will give us a story after the meal."
A roar of approval greeted this statement, and the army quickly dispersed to wrap up its work for the night. Francesca turned back to Evangeline who was regarding her with still wary eyes. The warrior noted that the woman hadn’t dropped the staff or her defensive stance, and raised an eyebrow in question.
"You coming with me?"
"Why?" There was obvious hesitation, and Francesca had to wonder what lay behind it.
"I just thought you might like a bath, some clean clothes." The staff lowered slightly, but Evangeline didn’t move. "Look, you are free to leave. But you’re free to stay as well. It’s your choice."
The staff came down completely. "Why are you being so nice to me?" The voice grew suspicious. "What do you want?"
"Not a thing," Francesca answered, extending her hand. "The choice is yours, but it would be nice to have another friend." Then she stood patiently waiting for the golden haired woman to make her decision.
Evangeline stared into mesmerizing blue eyes for a very long moment gauging the sincerity plainly displayed for her to read. She reached out a hand and lightly clasped that of her benefactor, a small smile creasing her face.
"Thank you," she whispered. "A bath sounds *really* good right about now."
The warrior gave the storyteller the once over and chuckled. "I’ll just bet."
"Yeah, you wouldn’t believe the story if I told ya."
"I dunno... try me."
The bard hesitated, then shrugged lightly as they made their way across the camp. "It started out fairly simply...."
The days became increasingly shorter as the cold settled in and the army settled down to endure the harshness of winter. Evangeline had become a welcome addition to the camp, spending time every day teaching the fighters to read and write. Her evenings, most of them, were spent in the telling of tales. Two nights were devoted to music and dancing, and one night was a night of rest for everyone.
She and Francesca started sharing quarters as a matter of course. Her first night in the compound, she was given a room in the fortress close to the warrior’s, but they had gone into Francesca’s room to talk. They had fallen asleep together... one on the low couch and the other on the bed. This pattern continued for several weeks, until one night Evangeline fell asleep sitting on the bed. Francesca didn’t have the heart to wake her, so she moved to the couch. Only to discover that it was much too short for her tall frame.
After a couple hours of fitful tossing and turning, a grumpy warrior returned to her bed and climbed in, sighing in utter relief at being able to stretch out comfortably. She turned over, almost asleep, when she felt the warmth of the storyteller curl up around her. She smiled and drifted off into deeper sleep.
As the months passed, everyone watched and noticed the transformation that was taking place between the two. No one said a word, but in the cold and dark of winter it was one of the few bright spots, and seeing the two of them fall in love was simply a beautiful experience.
Their nightly conversations were about anything and everything that came to mind. Their touches were subtle, tentative, until they fell into sleep. Then they curled around each other and became one in body, mind and soul.
Warmth during the day signaled the coming of spring, though the fierce cold at night made it clear that winter was not yet ready to release its grasp on the land. As yet, neither woman had made a move to officially acknowledge their feelings or intentions toward the other. Then came an evening when the issue was pushed to the fore of their awareness.
It was technically the Spring Equinox, and the compound was celebrating with a day long party even though there was still snow in many places on the ground. As darkness drew nearer, the evening feast was laid out, and the musicians began tuning up for dancing. The clan had taken the opportunity to change into its finery, and slowly people began to emerge from their homes dressed in their very best. This was a night when intentions were declared and couples were promised.
Francesca stepped from her room, glancing over at Evangeline’s room briefly before descending the stairs and exiting into the torch lit compound. The warrior gazed around in satisfaction. There were signs of new life in their community. Several couples stood together waiting to be officially recognized as such. The food was plentiful and people were happy, looking forward to the coming growing season. Francesca glanced down at herself, and felt the flutter of butterflies in the stomach. She had decided to declare herself to Evangeline, and nervously twitched her sleeves. Dark trousers were neatly tucked into polished, knee-high boots, whose color matched the belt tied around the bright blue tunic.
Many of the older members of the community looked at her with knowing eyes, and she couldn’t help the flush that slowly crawled up her face. Instead she smoothed her braid and smiled self-consciously, then began to make her way around the complex.
She felt rather than saw Evangeline step from the shadows and into the light. It was as if the whole world held its breath, waiting for them to see one another. When the warrior turned, she stood stunned for an endless moment. The bard also wore dark trousers and knee high boots, but her shirt was a deep green that reflected her eyes and brought out the red highlights in her blonde hair. Francesca moved to take a step forward when one of the biggest, meanest guys in her army stepped toward Evangeline and offered her his arm. The bard hesitated and looked to the warrior imploringly.
The man lost his smile when Evangeline didn’t accept the proffered arm immediately, and he reached out his hand instead to grab her. The army started exchanging money on bets as to how long exactly Francesca would let the imbecile live. That sort of behavior had never been tolerated before, and the claim the two had on one another was unmistakable.
The warrior’s hand on the man’s wrist stopped all movement, and he turned an outraged look in her direction. "What t’ ‘ell?" but he never got to finish he sentence as Francesca hit a pressure point in his wrist that sent him kneeling to the ground.
"She is mine, Milo, and you would do well to remember that." She didn’t need to look to see the flush rising up the bard’s fair cheeks to match the one rising up her own. "Heart to heart, body to body, soul to soul. We are destined. Do you understand?"
"T’aint right. She deserves a man...." His voice became a squeak as the warrior’s other hand reached up and wrapped around is throat.
"You will not speak of her so disrespectfully. She has the right to choose."
He reached for it, but screamed as the bone in his wrist was snapped twice. Francesca pulled the knife from his other hand, and bared her teeth at him fiercely. "You have ten minutes to be out of this fortress and out of my sight. After that, I will kill you."
"You wouldn’t."
"Try me."
She dropped his wrist hard, and he screamed in agony again. The warrior stood and dusted off her hands before turning to Evangeline. She didn’t need to see the widening of the green eyes to know that Milo was going to be stupid. Almost lazily she turned and caught the blade, and twisted it into his gut. He looked at her in sheer surprise before dropping dead to the ground. Without waiting for a signal, two men from the army immediately moved forward and removed the body from the compound.
Francesca started to move away from Evangeline, as much to escape the disgust she feared to see in the bard’s eyes as to wash the red, sticky warmth from her hands. A light touch on her arm halted her progress before she’d moved a foot.
"I’m sorry you had to do that, but thank you," the blonde whispered. "I’d tried to tell him before to let me be, but he just didn’t seem to be able to take a hint."
"He’s bothered you before?"
"Um hmm. Usually one of the other soldiers got him away from me, but he seemed to think he had some sort of rights." She grabbed a towel from the table as they walked by, and drew a bucket of fresh water from the well. Francesca tried to take over that chore, but Evangeline shook her head and poured the cold water into the basin one of the matrons had brought over. The older woman clapped Francesca on the shoulder in sympathy, then left the two of them in peace. The rest of the community moved a respectable distance away though their attention remained focused on the pair.
The bard lifted one of Francesca’s hands, and gently began to wash the blood away. She felt the disquiet growing within the warrior’s soul, and waited silently for the leader to speak. She finished washing the first hand, and picked up the second.
&#"I’m sorry you had to see that. I wanted tonight to be so special for you." The strangled whisper was so soft Evangeline could barely make out the spoken words. Deliberately she carefully dried the large hand and then her own. Then she cupped Francesca’s face in her hands, and forced the blue eyes to meet green unflinchingly.
Francesca leaned into the touch, greedily absorbing the warmth and love she felt flowing from the bard. "I’m not," came the strong response. "That makes tonight even more special for me."
Evangeline move one hand to cover the warrior’s lips with her fingers while the bard tried to explain. "I didn’t want to see you have to do that, but to know that you value what we share so greatly, so fiercely...." She shook her head. "I have no words for how that made me feel. Except...." She fell to one knee and clasped Francesca’s hands in her own. Evangeline focused on their hands, finding the strength and the delicateness fascinating. She raised Francesca’s hands to her lips, and brushed the fingertips lightly with her lips.
"Join with me, Cesca. Marry me."
The warrior for her part sat stunned by the turn of events. The night was not going anything like she’d planned so far. The silence extended for so long that Evangeline took it for her answer and dropped Francesca’s hands and moved to stand. The rejection was making the bile rise in her throat, and her singular thought was to get away and be sick somewhere in private. Only to find the world spinning when she was lifted up and spun in strong warrior arms before landing in a warm warrior lap.
Large hands tangled in blonde hair as they gazed at one another before two sets of lips met in love and passion. Softly at first, barely touching. Then deeper, until not even a breath of air could slip between them. The kiss went on interminably before the two separated to breathe, and even then they simply pulled apart a hairsbreadth, their lips still touching.
"Does this mean yes?"
"You are the air that I breathe and the nourishment that sustains my being. Your soul is the completion of mine. Yes, my love, this mean yes." Their lips met again, and this time a cheer rose from the entire community that stood by watching the tableau. Their chuckling broke the kiss. Francesca decided to take the lead this time.
"In my family there has been a legend which we have waited for several generations to see fulfilled." She dropped her gaze, and pulled a heavy chain from beneath her tunic. The warrior lifted the necklace over her head and cupped it in her closed fist before raising blue eyes back to meet intense green. "I know that our tradition calls for the exchange of wedding bracelets. But the legend says...."
"That when the soulmates are reunited, they have the rings to exchange one with another." The bard reached into her own shirt, and withdrew the token she’d hidden there. Evangeline laid it gently on her open palm, trusting Francesca to hold her steadily on her lap. "I am so glad to have found you again, beloved. My soul has missed you."
"And mine you," Francesca answered softly. She removed the ring from the chain, and lifted the bard’s left hands, tenderly sliding the ring into place. "As the sand is to the ocean and the trees are to the forest, so our souls are two parts of the same whole. For today... for tomorrow... forever."
"Always, Cesca. I love you."
The warrior didn’t answer audibly, merely resuming their kiss with a fervent passion. Evangeline kept up the kiss until the ring now clenched in her hand began to imprint her palm. Still she drew back slowly, gently teasing Francesca with a soft tracing of the warrior’s lips with her tongue. The brunette whimpered, and tightened her grip around the bard’s slim waist. Evangeline kissed up the smooth jawline until she reached Francesca’s ear.
"I know we can’t make this formal in front of everyone until the harvest, but between us tonight, right here and right now, I pledge to you all that I am and all that I become. We are forever."
The warrior felt the ring slide onto her finger, but her attention was focused on the tingles running up and down her spine as a warm tongue and hot breath simultaneously caressed her sensitive ear. She felt the moan resonating from her chest, and knew if she didn’t put an immediate end to the sweet torture, she would take Evangeline to bed now and to hell itself with tradition.
Francesca firmly grasped the bard’s face, and drew their lips together for a brief fiery moment. "C’mon, love," she said huskily when they parted. "Let’s get this party started."
They moved to the center of the square, blushing under the knowing cheers and stares. Francesca signaled the musicians, and the dancing and celebrating began in earnest.
No one was surprised when after the feasting was started that Francesca and Evangeline were nowhere to be found. It was common for promised couples to disappear sometime during the festivities to consummate the private pledges they had exchanged.
The warrior led her bard slowly up the stairs to what had over time become their room. No words were necessary between them as their communicated by looks and touches alone. Francesca unlaced the smaller woman’s tunic, taking her sweet time and raining kisses on each bit of skin as it was exposed to her eyes. When she pushed the shirt to the floor, the warrior gazed reverently upon her lover and breathed, "So beautiful." Her hands lightly traced up the exposed torso, and cradled Evangeline’s face.
The bard drew in a shaky breath and raised her own hands to loosen the ties on Francesca’s overshirt. She eased the fabric off strong shoulders, then traced with her fingertips the path her eyes took up the muscled torso. Evangeline felt the warrior’s breathing go erratic when her touch lingered on Francesca’s breasts. Hazy green eyes lifted to meet smoky blue and then the warrior lowered her head to claim Evangeline’s lips fervently.
The kiss went on interminably, and Francesca guided them toward the big bed they had shared for months in loving companionship, and were now ready to share in passionate love.
Without understanding exactly how it happened, the bard found herself naked lying beneath an equally naked, ardent warrior. Then thought and reason left the room as they became one in body and in soul and in spirit.
Spring became summer and soon autumn was upon them. As the harvest festival approached, Francesca and Evangeline made their final preparations to exchange their vows publicly. The night before the celebration, they were cuddled up together in front of the fireplace basking in their union.
"It strikes me as funny," Evangeline commented softly.
The dark head bent slightly to catch the bard’s words. "What does, beloved?"
Evangeline snuggled deeper into Francesca’s embrace, and the warrior obliged by holding her tighter. "This," gesturing between the two of them, "and tomorrow. Tomorrow we stand before the community and make pledges and promises they already know."
The warrior’s grip loosened slightly, and she pulled away just a bit. "Do you not want to marry me now?" Hurt was plainly evident in her tone.
The blonde head swiveled, and startled green eyes met wounded blue. Evangeline turned her entire body in Francesca’s arms until she was straddled across the warrior’s lap. "Oh no, beloved. You don’t get away from me that easily. I was just laughing at the irony of repeating aloud some of our most private and intimate thoughts so our friends can be told something most of them recognized before we did." She cupped the planed face, and brushed her lips lightly across Francesca’s. "I would shout it from the mountaintops daily if I didn’t think it would get me locked up for madness."
The warrior had to smile at the sentiment. She had little doubt the bard would make good on her threat if given half an opportunity. "Well, we’re not repeating the private and intimate stuff. There are some things a leader and her consort do not have to share. They know that we love and are committed to one another. That is enough. The rest is for us alone."
"I can agree with that."
Harvest festival dawned as a clear, cool day, and the morning was taken with games and competitions. Shortly before noon, the cantor who served as their holy man stepped forward to bless the meal, and offer thanks for the abundance. Then he did something surprising only to Francesca and Evangeline.
"Lady," bowing his head to the bard. "Mistress," saluting the warrior and bowing his head to her in turn. "We had a meeting last night, the community did, and we took a vote. It has been talked about between us since the spring, but last night we made it official." He removed a square cloth wrapping, and opened it to reveal two simple gold bands. The cleric turned to the nearest among them, and placed the package in his hands, lifting the larger of the two rings. Reaching up, he placed it on Francesca’s dark head.
"By the power vested in me by this new nation, I hereby declare you sovereign ruler and protector of all we are and all that we possess. From this day forth, you are the monarch, Queen Francesca."
The warrior stood stock-still, unable to respond. The warm clasp of Evangeline taking her hand brought her out of her sudden shock, and caused her to focus on her beloved. The love and pride she saw swelling in the gentle green eyes caused her to return the smile before turning her attention to her new subjects.
"Queen? Are you sure about this Rodrigo?" She looked at the sea of happy expectant faces. "I am just a hack fighter."
"Not so, my Queen. You are a formidable leader, and one we are proud to follow. Allow us to honor you the most fitting way we can see how."
The raven head bowed in a gesture of humility, then she raised it up, standing tall while she met the gaze of each and every individual in the compound. The air was charged and the change that came over them all was palpable. Finally, the warrior nodded her agreement. "I accept the tribute, and will do my best for you all."
A cheer rose then, and it wasn’t until quiet reigned again that Rodrigo spoke. "Now, my lady," nodding to Evangeline, "before I can make you the Queen’s Queen, I need to marry you." He paused, thinking how odd that sounded. "To each other, I mean," he clarified. A chuckle rippled through the crowd at his discomfiture. "Ahem, so if you will join hands...."
The first ten years were a struggle, as nearby provinces wanted to challenge the Queen and her community. But gradually, through much fighting, peace and prosperity settled in the tiny queendom, and people began to seek it out as a place to live in harmony with those around them. The hamlet grew a reputation for fairness and acceptance, and it grew steadily as the years passed.
Evangeline was exceedingly happy to see peace come to the land. She’d held her heart in her throat every time Francesca would leave, hardly daring to breathe until her warrior had returned safe and whole to her once more. Several times the bard had accompanied Francesca, but each and every time, the warrior was seriously injured. Evangeline took it as a sign, and stayed behind to wait. She more than anyone was glad to see the fighting come to an end.
"We have been very lucky," the Queen said to her consort on the eve of their thirtieth anniversary. "I think it is right that it ends this way."
"Are you sure beloved? You know the people would love to see you remain their Queen."
"Us, you mean," Francesca chuckled. Her hair was an iron gray, but time had not dimmed her eyes nor stooped her back. She gazed lovingly at the woman with whom she’d shared her life. Evangeline was still a beautiful woman. Though her hair was pure white, her eyes still twinkled merrily at the life that surrounded her. "No, it is time for Petrinko to learn to be a king in his own right. Our nephew is a wise man. He will do well. Besides, I grow weary of this. I want our remaining time to be for us alone."
The two had made the decision very early in their life together that they would not have children. Neither wanted to share themselves or their lover with another. So they watched their siblings’ children closely to choose an heir. Everyone seemed pleased with their choice, though none were anxious to see Francesca or Evangeline step down.
The celebration and coronation went beautifully, and the two Queen mums were happy to have more time for themselves and each other. For the better part of a year they watched, growing more confident that they had done well in their choosing. As harvest approached yet again, Evangeline took Francesca’s hand in her own, and they looked out into the star-filled night.
"I think it is time, beloved."
The warrior looked down into the bard’s eyes, seeing the pain and weariness they held. She took Evangeline in her arms and gently kissed the top of her head. "I think you’re right, sweet one. Come."
Francesca led them to the big bed that they had shared for almost thirty-two years. In an intimate ritual they had always shared, Francesca gently lifted the gold circlet Evangeline wore from her head, and placed it on their bedside table. The warrior bent slightly to allow Evangeline to do the same for her. We must have known, the Queen pondered, as they rarely wore the crowns anymore except on formal occasions.
They turned the covers on the bed down, and Francesca climbed in first, situating herself before Evangeline crawled in next to her and snuggled up closely. A gentle tugging pulled the bard up to her, and they indulged themselves in a final, lingering passionate kiss.
"I love you, warrior," the bard murmured when they parted. "We have had a good life."
"Yes, we have my bard, and I love you too." Francesca kissed Evangeline’s forehead and tucked the white head beneath her chin. "Sleep now. We have earned our rest."
*********************************************************
"It was customary for Petrinko to wake his aunts on special occasions, and he found them wrapped up in one another’s arms when he went in the following morning to wake them for the harvest festival. Though sad for his own loss and that of his people, he couldn’t help but smile at the picture they made together still, and for the last time."
Randi was silent for a long time, and Gwen let her be, seeing the tears roll silently down her cheeks. She cradled the dark head beneath her chin and kissed the top.
"That is what I want," came the words whispered so lightly the bard only felt the barest of sound.
"Hmm?" Gwen asked, tenderly stroking the silky hair. She leaned her head down slightly to catch the warrior’s words.
"When our time comes," Randi said softly, "that is what I want for us. I want us to lie down and go to sleep together."
Gwen lifted her soulmate’s chin, and caught Randi’s lips in a fiery lip lock. "When *our* times comes, we *will* go together. But that is going to be a long, LONG time in coming, love. We have a lifetime to share first."
The Sabre reached around and drew Gwen into an engulfing embrace, holding on tightly and finding it returned in equal measure. "We sure do, Little One. We sure do. Now," taking a deep breath and wiping her cheeks negligently with her sleeve, "I think we have a party to go to. Let’s go meet the neighbors."
Gwen extended her hand. "Good idea, Stud."
The ride into town was short and uneventful. The couple was not the first to arrive, but they were by no means the last either. They took off their coats and set them aside, and began to walk around the room. Randi was familiar with almost everyone, and she took great delight in introducing her bard to people she considered good neighbors and acquaintances.
Slowly, people filtered in, and by early afternoon, the building was filled with bodies chatting, laughing and having a good time together. When Sky Connecah, the town’s chieftain stood, everyone drew quiet in deference to his position and waited for him to offer the ritual blessing.
"Great Spirit, giver of life and all that sustains us, we come together today with grateful hearts and joy in the company we find with one another." Piercing black eyes looked at the members of the community gathered around, and his face creased into a smile. Gwen wondered at the hint of familiarity she saw in his gaze as he held hers. "Thank you for new friends as well as old, and the fellowship we share." He paused then chuckled. "Let’s eat."
Good-natured laughter broke out this pronouncement, and folks began to ease towards the food-laden tables even as conversation quietly resumed. The chieftain made his way slowly to where the bard and warrior still sat, greeting people along the way. Finally, he stood before the couple, and involuntarily drew a deep breath.
"It is no wonder she needs shields," he mumbled, even as he reached a hand out to clasp Randi’s own. She raised an eyebrow in question at the older man.
"Excuse me?"
Sky shook his dark head. "Introduce me to your soul, Ravenhawk. Then I will try to remove the foot from my mouth."
Both women blushed lightly at his phrasing. The soul bond they shared was certainly not common knowledge, nor was it something they shared with people. Randi’s mind ran on a double track even as she introduced the bard.
"Sky, this beautiful woman is my beloved Gwen." She wrapped an arm around the bard and pulled her close. "Gwen, this is Screaming Sky Connecah, the tribal chieftain among other things." She turned a hard blue stare at the man. "You wanna explain that remark now?"
"Um, no, not really," he mumbled then swallowed when her features began to harden. "But I will. I owe you the courtesy."
She nodded, and motioned him to take a seat. He joined them, helping himself to a cup of coffee from the carafe that sat on the table.
"Can I ask a question first?" Gwen queried softly. Sky nodded his head. "Um, Ravenhawk?" looking between the two warriors.
The chieftain smiled. "It is what my people call your warrior. Raven for the color of the night she is forced to hunt in, and hawk for the hunter she is."
The bard looked at Randi confused. "But...."
"No, Gwen, Ravenhawk has never told us that much about herself. Her name comes from what we can see about her." He waited for the knowledge to sink in.
"You’re a seer?" from Randi.
"Yes, warrior. All my people are seers to some degree. For most of us, it is a dormant skill... something we rarely use. Occasionally, an aura will be so strong that it pushes its way into our awareness. Yours does, because together it is blindingly powerful. Still for most of us, it is just a tangible sense of what is between you." He paused, and took a swallow of coffee.
"The strongest of us, though can feel the strength of your bonding like...."
"... like raw energy running through your veins." Gwen paused and looked at Randi. "Reed is a seer." She turned back to Sky. "Reed is part of your tribe?"
"Yes, she is. She is the most gifted among us... one of the most gifted my tribe has ever known."
"But...." Randi put her head in her hands. Her thoughts were of her private paradise slipping away. Sky stopped her by raising his hands.
"She has known about your place here since the first time you came. We project a distinctive aura as well, and she recognized it when you went back. You never brought it up, and she respected your privacy enough to let it lie." He hesitated. "She did contact me, and asked me to keep an eye on you." He smiled at the raised eyebrow. "It was honest concern, warrior. She never explained more than that. I respected her gift enough to do that. Then I met you and did it for you."
"I... I, um...."
The chieftain patted her hand. "You do not have to explain, Ravenhawk. Whatever darkness you were a part of was never your own doing. It made us feel a part of the fight to watch out for you when you were here." He crinkled his brow as a shadow crossed his awareness.
"Sky?" the Sabre asked in concern.
He studied her then, noting for the first time the thin, almost invisible line of the faded scar. He reached a hand out to her chin and turned her head slightly to get a better look at it. She pulled away when he tried to touch it.
"No," was all she said, but he respected the firmness of her tone and withdrew the contact.
Sky folded his hands together in front of him and gazed unseeing at the tabletop. The flash of images he had briefly seen had left him shaken. Finally, black eyes looked up and held ice blue. "I am afraid for you, my friend. There is a darkness coming that you can neither contain nor control." He looked at Gwen, who was studying him seriously. "You are the key. Remember that. You are the key." Without another word he rose and moved away from them, needing a bit of space to collect himself.
The two sat quietly for a long moment before Gwen took a deep breath. "Well, that was interesting," risking a glance at Randi, whose face had gone quite still. "Love?"
Without looking at the bard, the Sabre said softly. "I think I need a minute... if you’ll excuse me." And she was up and out the door before the storyteller had a good grip on the words she had spoken. Then Gwen’s face hardened, and she went in search of Chief Screaming Sky Connecah.
Randi shivered at the cold air that blew across her face when she stepped out the door. Her jacket lay forgotten in the building, and she wasn’t prepared to go back inside to retrieve it. She stuck her hands in her pockets, and stomped her feet, then took off purposefully down the road toward the barn.
Meanwhile, Gwen had cornered Sky, and brought him back to the table to explain a few things. She had a warrior to console, but she needed to understand the damage he had done. He didn’t strike her as the malicious type, but she wanted to know where his words had come from.
"You want to start at the beginning? Because I really don’t appreciate what you did to Randi."
"I probably could have been more tactful in my wording, but you needed to both be aware of what is coming." He looked at her with his dark eyes.
"What is coming?" she asked in a whisper. "And why can you see it if you aren’t a strong enough seer to feel the bond?" direct and to the point. He smiled. If Gwen was this forthright with everyone, Randi had no chance to fall to the darkness.