Author: Luthene, Posted: Tue Feb 9, 2016 6:18 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Did Domnall have this much paperwork, Luthene wondered. It seemed that more messages came in every day. Most of it concerned the farms around the fortress, or the villagers who worked them. Arnholt had been lax about collecting rents and sending that coin, along with his taxes, to the Crown. That was a shame, Luthene had written in response, but of no concern to the Company. Perhaps not, came the reply, but the money was still owed, and surly good subjects of the Queen would not begrudge paying a bit more to their sovereign this year to make up the difference? And so on and so forth the correspondence went. In the end, Luthene knew they may have to ask the villagers to pay a slightly higher rent this year, but she would try her damnedest to reduce the debt as much as possible.

“I did no such thing!” Luthene said with mock indignation when Galin joined her. “I offered suggestions for Colum’s upbringing, and suggested that if he is to serve anyone, you would be the most logical choice!” She set the papers aside when he leaned down to kiss her. “It’s only been two weeks. Give him a year or so, and he’ll be more of a help to you. Perhaps show him how to sharpen a blade, there’s always a good deal of that to do.” Colum’s lessons with Luthene weren’t making much progress, and Galin was right, she couldn’t kiss him to get him to comply. It was a bit easier when, rather than having him practice copying letters and numbers in chalk, and running through drills until he knew what they were, she showed him the Company’s old ledger. He was more motivated to learn things if it meant being useful to the Company, and Galin in particular.

“I think there’s a handful of boys about Colum’s age, if you want to see about training them. I don’t mind helping more learn their letters and sums, either. I’d like to see the girls taught to read as well, if their parents don’t object.” In Luthene’s case, she was expected to wed a craftsman, and both reading and basic math were sometimes useful in a wife. She didn’t know what the expectations were for daughters of Highland mercenaries, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt them to learn as she had.

As Galin read the report, which she had already read herself, Luthene considered his words, about having more young ones training, boys who might join the Company as men. It brought to mind something she had wanted to discuss with him, and this was as good an opportunity as any to bring it up.

Galin set the parchment aside, finished reading it. When he invited her to the bed, she got up from the desk, and sat down beside him. “You know, if you want a new pool of men for the Company, you may want to encourage the men to start families. This place, I think it’s ideal, especially for a soldier. Women and children are safer here than before, and perhaps a man might be lead to think that it’s a good time to start a family. And perhaps…” Luthene leaned in and kissed him, softly, before she went on, “you could lead by example? I mean, I’m not,” she added quickly, taking his hands in her own, “Not yet. But… I could be. If you want.”

Author: Galin, Posted: Tue Feb 9, 2016 4:57 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

“And you would strip the lad of freedom and enterprise and make him a serf? Southern notions, those!” Galin chuckled, his accent thickening for effect, and he winked at Luthene. “You aren’t wrong exactly, but there is more to it than that. Structure for its own sake isn’t really… it’s not the North. We’re a bit untamed yet, as you’ve seen when we fight, or other things,” he said, with a heavy emphasis and a kiss, “but rules and structure ain’t for their own sake. The boy needs to learn discipline but he already had the traits most needed in a warrior and we saw them today. He’s got courage by the boatload and he took initiative. The rest can be trained, but he’s got a proper warrior’s blood I don’t want to see the wee fella turned into some fighting clerk in order to give him grounding. It’d be like breaking a Bohari horse to work a plough. Bloody waste of talent. But he ain’t my trouble,” Galin started to say, before Luthene decided the opposite and he sighed, knowing better than to try and argue the point. “Well, if he’s my page or whatever your southeron lot call it, I get to train him proper. He’ll learn all those chores you’re going on about, but not for their sake, but because they are what’s expected of a young man training to be a soldier. Gives some dignity to the work, you see? And the sums and the letters are your province, not mine, so best of luck getting that hellion to sit quiet and learn his letters. You can’t very well kiss him into submission like you do me!”

When she got up, he suppressed a laugh until she was at the writing desk. “And another thing, darling, you know you don’t need that blanket unless there’s a chill. There’s not a thing under there I haven’t seen or kissed already, you know.” He enjoyed her blush and enjoyed kissing her even more when she left the letter to dry and rejoined him. Before he could make his intentions for the rest of the evening abundantly clear, Cooper hammered on the door, warning of complaints of billets and work details. His plans and the unpleasant topic of his signet would have to wait and he loosed a string of cursing impressive in both its breadth and variety. He dressed alongside her and as he buckled his war belt around his waist, he hugged her with the other arm and grinned, something he found came easier around her than even he remembered. “Well darling, I’ll see you after supper, then? Maybe even without that blanket?” Leaving her to blush again, he opened the door and leveled a glare at Cooper. “If no one’s dead, you will be, you giant bastard.”

It was amazing what different two weeks could make, Galin thought as he pushed open the door of his quarters. The palisade had been strengthened and a defensive ditch was dug around it while the villagers who had fled after Arnholt’s death and the arrival of the brigands had begun to return, taking up their homes and fields and thus allowing Galin to report to the Crown that normalcy was being restored to the fort and lands. Normalcy meant crops and crops meant taxes and that was music to the ears of any official of the Crown. The work kept the men busy and the magistrate had been quick to send supplies and the tavern in the fortress was soon known for more than just its ale. The men seemed to be settling into their new life and, with the settling, came and easing for the burdens of command on Galin’s shoulders.

“You know,” he said to Luthene who was already in the large, tapestry-lined room, “I think you tricked me with your plan about Colum, love. You see, I’ve asked around. A page is supposed to be a help to a knight or a lord, not a burden. You’ve adopted a stray dog instead, and what’s worse, convinced me it was my own damned idea!” He chuckled and kissed her while she sat at the desk, reading over the latest dispatches from the Crown and the other sundry paperwork the company seemed to accumulate like a dog did fleas. “Though I think it might be easier, oddly enough, with more of them. A bunch of the young lads training. Good for them, gets them out from underfoot, and it’ll be a new pool of men if the company stays intact. And then Colum can’t say ‘But why does this only apply to me?’ and whinge and moan til I kick his arse into action.” Laughing, he sat heavily on the bed and kicked off his boots. “Pass me the report from Her Majesty, could you, darling? I’ll save myself the trouble of asking you to tell me what it says and you ordering me to read it myself and skip to the reading.”

He skimmed the parchment, knowing by now to skip the first few lines which were self-important titled nobles from the queen through the magistrates brandishing their drawn-out lineage to cow any reader into submission before the orders began. Instead, he scanned the vellum for the words “request and require” then began to properly concentrate. He read it over again, turning the page toward the light from one of the high windows to make sure he did not mistake a shadow for a letter, and nodded. Soldiering, it seemed, was finally needed, though not the kind Galin would have preferred. Instead of serving alongside the main Crown forces, the Highlanders were being sent off to deal with some disaffected Adelunian nobles who had raised their own company of sellswords and were looking to carve out a piece of the debatable land between Vilpamolan and Adeluna, possibly to foment dissent in the Kingdom itself. The company, therefore, was to find them, ascertain the extent of their danger, and take whatever actions were necessary to secure the border. In other words, find them, kill them all, and leave their bodies as a warning along the high road to Adeluna City, but all without support or reinforcements from the Crown. “Well, this could be worse,” he said, and put the parchment on the small table next to their bed. “I won’t worry about it til morning, though. No sense in rushing out in the dark, tits over arse, for a half day’s march. No, I’ll just roust them come dawn and until then, I’ll enjoy this lovely bed before we have to be back on the ground with naught but a blanket. And maybe, if I am lucky, you might join me?”

Author: Luthene, Posted: Tue Feb 9, 2016 9:10 AM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

It was a good door, Luthene decided. The bed, however, would take some getting used to, being Luthene was used to something far less luxurious than this. But, she thought, as she nuzzled the hollow of his neck until he turned aside to kiss her, she would adjust in time.

They had been allowed to stay in this room undisturbed until well into afternoon, though Luthene knew a knock at the door could come at any time. She began to trace circles along Galin’s chest, thinking. “You know, most boys Colum’s age would be working in some way by now, at least in the south,” she began. “With their parents on farms, usually, or starting to apprentice for their fathers, if he has a trade. I know Colum helps out now and then, but it’s irregular, and he’ll often be given a coin, candy, or something, in exchange for the work, rather than doing it because it is expected of him. The work is good, of course, but otherwise… he has a great deal of freedom, and very little discipline.” She paused again, further contemplating the situation. “It’s not enough to give him a trashing and be done with it. Put him to work, regular duties he will be expected to preform every day, for nothing more than regular meals and a bed. He should know how to read and write, too, and sums.” Luthene leaned over and kissed Galin. “And you know such lessons are probably worse than anything you might give him. Only after his chores and lessons are done for the day might he be permitted to learn to use that knife he ran into battle with.” She smiled. “You’re no knight, especially in the southern tradition, but he’ll be your page nonetheless.”

There was more than one blanket on the large bed, and Luthene grabbed one as she sat up. She wrapped it around herself and moved over to the large desk. Someone had been writing something when the attack started, but she couldn’t make sense of it. “This letter is in code, I think. Are any of the men skilled in deciphering it?” She set the coded message aside, and dipped the quill into the ink pot. “Alright. Whenever you’re ready.”

To Maurice of Veredne, Lord Magistrate
From Galin Ochiern, Captain, Highland Company The manor that once belonged to Lord Arnholt has been taken, and all bandits have been killed or captured. Those who surrendered and were taken prisoner will be sent to you, and you may claim their bounties for yourself if you wish. I pray this gesture will put things right between us after our last meeting. Now that the manor is ours, shipments of livestock, flour, vegetables, and beer, can be sent, as agreed in our contract. Additional ale and

“Galin, really?” Luthene said, interrupting his dictation. He explained that, yes, the request really did need to be made. Shaking her head, Luthene continued to write:

women for the comfort of unmarried men would also be welcome. As previously stated, an itemized list of expenditures will follow once repairs have been completed. Regards, -G

“We’ll need to find some blue sealing wax,” Luthene said when she finished the letter. She left it on the desk so the ink could dry, and made her way over to the bed. “Though that reminds me,” she added, climbing back in beside Galin as the blanket she had been using to cover herself fell away, “you still need to decide on your own device for your shield. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Galin, it needs to be done, especially now that you’re the captain. It’s expected of you.” She placed a hand under his chin and turned his head to hers, then kissed him, pressing herself closer as she did.

The knock at the door came then. In her mind, Luthene cursed whomever it was; Galin did so aloud.

“Some of the men are bickering over room assignments, and we need you to help us figure out watches.” It was Cooper, of course.

“It’s nice that no one can just walk right in,” Luthene said, pulling on her tunic and searching for her trousers. ”I think, seeing as we’re just getting settled here, there won’t be any need for inspection tomorrow morning. See that everyone has their tasks this evening at dinner, and if a few people want to lie in tomorrow morning, well, no harm in that so long as the work gets done, right?” Trousers on, Luthene kissed Galin’s cheek. “You see to the men. I think I’ll go to the infirmary and see what state it’s in.”

Author: Galin, Posted: Mon Feb 8, 2016 5:42 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

“Ready… loose! Second rank…. Ready. Loose!” Like clockwork, arrows sped off strings and bolts spat from crossbows, humming through the air until they slammed into the churning mass of men at the far end of the courtyard with a sound like butchers’ cleavers striking sides of beef. Men spun, clutching at the feathered shafts as they fell and others, struggling to avoid the blades of the men Galin sent through the courtyard, ran into each other, tripping over the dead and dying as they tried to find safety near the Water Gate. Men were struggling with the heavy oak bar that kept the door shut and Galin laughed, nodding to his trumpeter to sound the advance. Hugh’s men would break from cover then and swarm the gate the moment it opened. Attached from every side and cut apart by the steady, disciplined volleys of the skirmishers, there would be nothing the brigands could do but lay down their arms. Hoping to speed up the process, Galin ordered the men in the gateway to advance, closing their range and ensuring that every arrow or quarrel found its mark.

As the lines advanced and checked before starting their measured volleys again, Galin could have sworn he heard Luthene’s voice over the sounds of the fight. He looked around and to his left, sweeping men toward the killing ground, he saw her and her gaze was fixed on a figure parting out ahead of him. “That idiot boy…” Galin threw his crossbow aside and dragged his sword out of its scabbard and sprinted toward Colum who, knife in hand, was running at a large, imposing man with a heavy woodsman’s axe. Swinging his left arm, Galin cuffed Colum across the head and stunned him, sending him spinning to his knees and instead of slowly, he extended his right arm, locking his wrist, and barreled into the bandit, his sword like a horseman’s lance. The blade sliced through fleshed and bone, obliterating his heart as the tip buried itself in the man’s spine. He wrenched the blade free and felt the man’s warm blood spurt onto his face and chest. Growling, he grabbed Colum but the collar and dragged him back behind the skirmishers. “I’ll deal with you later, boy.”

Unfortunately for Colum, he would not have to wait long to feel Galin’s ire. The gates at the far side of the fortress creaked open and the first men tried to escape. Their shouts of triumph were cut short as a battle howl tore through the air and Hugh’s men drove into the gap, blades rising and falling as they cut a bloody path into the fortress. The arrival of the second force was enough to take the heart out of the bandits and one by one they dropped their weapons to the blood-slick cobbles of the Water Gate’s gateway and sank to the ground in mute surrender. Galin grinned like an idiot. It had worked. It was a success and not a man of his had been lost that he could tell. It was better than he could have dared dream and he touched the Maker’s amulet around his neck as he gave a prayer of thanks for the events of the day. Cooper and his men descended from the eyrie and loped up the path to join in the exultation, the big man clapping Galin on the shoulder. “Not bad, sir, not bad at all. Domnall wasn’t all wrong when he said you knew your way around a battle. By Maker’s cods, did you make a mess of these poor bastards. Wolf’s heads, though, so I’ll get some lads with axes handy so we don’t lose the bounties.”

Galin nodded and then seemed to notice that he was still holding his sword and covered in gore. “Thanks, you take care of that. And don’t go killing any of the live ones. I have a plan for them.” He knelt down and wiped the sticky, drying blood off his blade and pushed it back into its scabbard before looking for Luthene in the crowded courtyard. Seeing her, unharmed, he broke out into his crooked grin and jogged over to her, hugging her tightly despite the blood and sweat that clung to them both. “See, nothing brash or reckless and all, and not a man dead unless Hugh lost a fellow coming up the ridge. It’s a bloody fantastic day!” He kissed her, spinning her around with a mix of relief and giddy joy, before he forced himself to be composed and look to the prisoners. “Now, you know what I’ll be asking of you, once you sort Colum out, aye? We head up to the lord’s chambers, with his lovely iron-bound oak door, and I’ll need you to draft a letter to that magistrate bastard…. M something… whatever he name was, it’s no matter. All the surviving prisoners, we will interrogate them and then send them under guard to the City, where he can try them and take their bounties for himself. Ought to smooth over some ruffled feathers after my negotiations, no?”

He whistled for Cooper, winked, and jerked his head at the fortress. The big man’s face broke into a knowing smile and he nodded back. Galin looked at Luthene and grinned at mischievous, crooked smile again. “Colum can wait. That room, with that door, though…” He leaned down as though he was going to kiss her but ducked lower at the last second and wrapped an arm around her waist. With a heave, he had her, sputtering in protest, over his shoulder and the men cheered as they entered the fortress and found, much to Galin’s delight, that the lord’s quarters not only had a stout door with an iron bolt to lock it, but a large bed stuffed with down. His luck, it seemed, was holding out.

Author: Luthene, Posted: Mon Feb 8, 2016 10:49 AM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

She felt Galin stirring beside her, but it took a few minutes for Luthene to properly wake. His cuirass was on by the time she sat up, and he started to wander the camp while she got herself ready. She put on her heavy hauberk, then her sword belt. While Galin only had a buckler, Luthene would continue to use the larger round shield she had become accustomed to. When Galin returned to their fire to gather his weapons, she placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer. “Stay alive,” she said, and kissed him, holding on a bit longer than she had the last time they’d been on this same hill.

While Hugh lead his troop to the Water Gate, loudly, the rest of the Company moved quietly down off the hill, through now-abandoned cottages. Cooper went ahead to look for the flag, the rest of his troop not far behind. When the signal came, the killing started. Duncan lead the section around to take the flank opposite the Water Gate, and once they were in position, they revealled themselves in a loud and ferocious fashion. Luthene drove the point of her sword into a man as he struggled to draw his own weapon, and then drew it across his neck just to make sure he didn’t rise again.

It was a rout from the moment the attack started. Duncan ordered the section to push, and more bandits abandoned the weapons and shields they had initially reached for. Some went running right into more Highlanders, from Hugh’s troop, or Padraig’s. There was fury and shouting, and men of the Company wore the blood of the bandits they had killed, Luthene among them, and it made them all the more frightening. There seemed to be only one way to go that wasn’t blocked off by the Company, and this is where the bandits began to run… until they were met with a volley of arrows from Cooper and the other bow-wielding sections.

Seeing this, some men turned and ran back into the swords, spears, and axes of the Company. Duncan ordered his section to tighten their formation, but it was a thin line. Fortunately, the bandits had no formation at all, so they were unlikely to break through and cost the Company their victory. One man, perhaps a former soldier, still held his sword and ran to Luthene. If he thought, because she was a woman, that she would be weak, he was mistaken. His attack was fierce, but Luthene knew it was coming and managed to deflect it out. Her shield between his blade and her body, Luthene brought her own sword up and tried to thrust it into his side, but he was also wearing mail underneath his cuirass, and her blade was stopped. He grinned and tried to bring his sword around the top of her shield. Luthene ducked low, moving her shield over her head while also dropping her sword in favour of her long knife. His sword rammed hard against the boss of her shield, and she rammed her knife up into his groin and twisted. Withdrawing the blade, she kicked the man down and then slit his throat as well.

As she was collecting her sword up off the ground, she saw a boy run into the fight, not far from where the bowmen were. There was a long knife in his hand, and even from a distance, she knew who it was. “Colum, no!”

Author: Galin, Posted: Mon Feb 8, 2016 8:53 AM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

"Brash? Me? Ha!”

Galin squeezed Luthene’s hand and smiled, the sort of crooked, carefree smile that he usually had before he did something reckless. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. If I could best your lot in the Valley and the best a proper lord had to offer here already, a handful of brigands with pitchforks hasn’t really got me worried. You, though, you be careful. This new formation and all ain’t be blooded yet and there’s a chance something goes terribly wrong. If it does, don’t be noble. Just go and I’ll be right there with you, yeah?” He leaned close and kissed her cheek then laid out a blanket for them on the hard ground. “Just a few hours til dawn and we’ll that that door we’ve wanted by supper.”

The night passed quickly and Galin felt groggy when one of the sentries shook him awake as he had requested. “Steady on sir, ‘bout an hour til dawn, by my reckoning.” Galin blinked, nodded, then thanked the man, leaving Luthene to rest a few more minutes if she could. Pulling on his leather cuirass, Galin looked around at the men stirring in the pre-dawn blackness, their eyes bright in the still, cold early morning. They were ready, he thought, and smiled, his straight teeth flashing, as he drifted through the camp, giving words of encouragement and a pat on the shoulder to men from his old sections until he found Hugh with his men forming in ranks at the base of the hill. Galin confirmed his orders and shook Hugh’s hand.

“Happy hunting. Once things are underway inside, be sure to pop in through the back gate. I wouldn’t want your lads to miss all the action.”

The diversionary force decamped loudly and ostentatiously, moving along the base of the fortress’ hill, just inside the cover of trees but with no attempt to hide its passing as it moved toward the Water Gate. Dogs barked nervously as they passed and slowly the bandits who were awaked by the clamor began to react, moving up into the fortress and toward the far gate. Galin smiled again as he returned to the dying embers of his fire, seeing that Luthene was awake and preparing for battle as well. Instead of his heavy war sword, Galin hung his new dwarven blade on his belt, opposite the canvas bag of quarrels for his crossbow. It was strange not carrying his spear and heavy shield but in the sort of fight he expected, speed would be far better protection. “Shall we?”

Leaving three sections to guard the camp, Galin and the rest of the company moved quietly in the dark along tracks that had been scouted the day before, all leading through the scattered cottages around the slope of the fortress’ high hill. The first rays of sunlight were starting to break over the horizon as the men crouched in the shadows of the abandoned cottages, cottages left empty after their attack on the fortress months before. Galin sent Cooper ahead to keep a watch at the gate, looking for the company flag to appear on the ramparts. Despite his age, Cooper still had some of the best eyes in the company and Galin trusted him to see the flag before anyone else. While he waited anxiously, hoping that the diversion was still working, drawing the eyes of the brigands to the Water Gate, he levered back the cord on his crossbow and slipped a bolt into the groove.

A whistle from the head of the company meant that Cooper had seen the flag and Galin breathed a sigh of relief that the action would start. Waiting was what bothered Galin the most, the seconds stretching on before the fighting started, giving his mind time to think of every possible way his plan could fail. Now, though, it was too late to worry. The assault was on and the men streamed up through the abandoned village, killing the handful of bandits that were sleeping in some of the huts nearest the gate with silent precision, whipping blades across the throats of the sleep and drink-befuddled men before they could raise an alarm. Galin caught up to Cooper who found himself a ruined two story cottage where he arrayed some of the better marksman in his section to prepare to pepper the courtyard with arrows while Galin secured the gateway. “Lovely day for a scrap and so it is,” said Cooper as he chewed on a long blade of grass with an air of casual indifference. “I’ll keep the proper marksmen here, the rest will be in the gate with you to give ‘em volleys.” He did not speak as though he were asking Galin’s permission but was simply telling him how things would be done and Galin, despite the insubordination, was inclined to give the man latitude. “Stay safe out there, sir.”

Galin nodded and sprinted the rest of the way up the hill where the men were already heaving open the unbarred gate. Never one to lead from the rear, Galin stepped through the gap first and brought his crossbow up to his shoulder, picking out a large, tattooed man with the look of a soldier. With calm precision, he depressed the trigger and the cord snapped forward, spitting the bolt in a shallow, blurring arc into the man’s chest. He staged back a few paces, his face incredulous as he grabbed at the squat, leather-fletched bolt, then sank to his knees, blood bubbling from his lips as he sank all the way to the ground, his battered sword dropping from nerveless fingers. Galin did not wait to see the man fall. Instead he grabbed his lever and began to haul back the crossbow’s cord again as more arrows and bolts began to fly through the courtyard.

“Hold it… hold it lads. Two ranks, loose as a single man. Everyone without a bow, go beat the bushes and drive the buggers here. Quick now, quick!” From outside the fort, Cooper’s marksmen began to loose their yard-long arrows at the men gathered near the Water Gate to repel the attack from Hugh’s men that would not come. Galin smiled and picked out another target, leading the crossbow along his path as the man ran between the small huts in the courtyard, then loosed the bolt, automatically beginning to reload the moment the quarrel left the bow. The men in the ranks were beginning to lay down the disciplined volleys that he had insisted upon after the massacre in the wheat field and the shafts were starting to tell, tearing great, bloody rents in the leaderless men milling in the courtyard, taken totally by surprise by the suddenness and ferocity of the Highland assault.

Author: Mathuin, Posted: Fri Feb 5, 2016 4:56 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Galin’s plan was an audacious one, Mathuin thought, as he sat in front of his section’s cooking fire. It was the sort of ruse he would have used in the North against the Spirit Lord’s forces, and it made the old man proud, after a fashion, that the young commander was not a new Cedric. He had done a good job keeping the company together in the retreat and the difficult weeks back in their camp, trying to rebuild and take care of the destruction left in Cedric’s week. If he survived this fight, Mathuin had a secret set of orders from Galin, along with nearly every last crescent Galin had to his name in a leather sack buried in the back of his travelling pack. He was going to put his years of wandering the roads of Revaliir to good use and track Cedric like a bloodhound, reporting back to the company whenever he could, so that when Galin was finally secure in the fortress they were assaulting, he could keep his promise and visit justice on the murdering bastard. That was another point in the young commander’s favor, thought Mathuin, watching the flames dance in the cool air, his bloody-mindedness in response to Cedric’s abuses. It would serve him well, and spoke of his character. Mathuin spat into the fire and looked up at the setting sun, judging that it was nearly time to get any final instructions from Galin and gather up Lajaka for the ruse. Sighing, he stood, feeling an ache in an old leg wound that always pained him on cold days, and he kneaded the scarred flesh under his trousers until it was dulled enough so he could walk without limping.

When he made it to Galin’s fire, Mathuin threw his head back and laughed, his eyes nearly disappearing as they crinkled with mirth. “Sweet Maker’s name, you got her into a dress? I thought it would light her on fire the moment something a proper lady would wear touched her skin.” He leaned close to Lajaka, blocking the inevitable blow his comments would elicit from her, and whispered theatrically in her ear. “The good news is the skirt’ll give you easier access if one of the lads in the camp up there catches your fancy, so it can’t be all bad!” Chuckling, he squatted down next to Galin and chewed his lip, putting the plan through its paces in his head as the young officer rattled it off for the tenth time in the last day.

“You’ll leave within the hour, and make your way down the main road to the fortress. Make a show of travelling with goods to sell. I bought a chapman’s entire bloody panoply, so you will look the part.” Galin remembered the look of the peddler when Galin produced a gold crescent and offered to buy all his wares in the market in Adeluna and smiled. Details, he thought, would be the making or unmaking of them all. “So when you arrive, you’ll know what to do. Hawk your wares, sell ribbons to the wives and sweethearts, exchange gossip, the same shite you’ve done before, even do that swordsmanship exhibition, so they don’t think it’s strange to have a peddler with a war sword about. Make sure they get drinking, though I doubt that should be an issue, and get them good and sotted. Once they’re snoring, keep yourself and the wildcat there sober, and head to your quarters for the night. Before dawn, get over to the gatehouse, get the bar out of the brackets, but leave the thing closed so they don’t suspect a thing. When you have it done, hang this from the gate,” he said and passed the man the blue and white banner of the company. “When that’s done, stay near the gate. Don’t want you getting your old grey head staved in when I release the hounds. Fall in with us and stay alive. Do we understand each other?”

Mathuin waited a moment to reply, stuffing the banner into his pack, rolling the details over in his head one more time. He was sure the plan was good but it was a foolish man that headed into something like this without some serious thought. To be found out would mean death, and likely not a pleasant, quick one, but whatever the bastards could think up to torture him and Lajaka as well. Still, he was a soldier and it was a risk he would have to take. He turned to the younger man and nodded curtly, extending his hand. “Aye. It is understood. Get them drunk, distracted, and open the gate, all the while avoiding ending up dead.” Galin smiled as he shook it and nodded. “And the best of you luck to you coming through the gate, son. Don’t get yourself dead either. Though I can think of far uglier widows to comfort, so don’t try to stay safe too hard,” he said, punching the younger man on the arm and standing. He bowed to Luthene with a wink and then hoisted the chapman’s pack onto his back. “Come along, wildcat. We’ve got a fort to get drunk beyond words. Sounds like your sort of job, even if you stay dressed for once.”

The walk to the fortress was easy and Mathuin noted with some disdain the sort of lax discipline that pervaded the bandits, considering some of them were clearly old soldiers. After a life at war, he expected better, even if they were wolf’s heads. “Keep close,” he whispered to Lajaka as they stepped through the gates. “You may be able to handle yourself but I know men like these won’t take that as a reason not to take whatever they like. Follow my lead.” One of the bandits prodded Mathuin in the chest and spat at his feet.

“So what makes you think you are welcome here, old man?”

Mathuin smiled easily, reverting back to his persona of the last two odd years. “Oh, my son, you must have mistaken me with someone who scares easy.” He grinned, his voice raised so men began to drift toward them. “Oh, sure, with your peach fuzz and scowl, you would have scared many a man, but not a Highlander, mate. You are out of your depth. You see this sword?” He patted the hilt at his side, waiting as the men gathered, ringing the three of them, and then chuckled. “I’ll bet you a crescent that I can get it out of its scabbard before you draw yours. Think you can beat me, pup?” The man looked Mathuin over as the old chapman dropped his sack of wares to the ground and cracked his knuckles in front of him. “What do you say lads? Do you fancy he can get that sword out faster than an old man?” The men murmured and started betting, coins changing hands as Mathuin stalked around the circle like a lion in a traveling circus. “What are the odds on me, big fella,’ he asked one of the men, a heavyset man with a tattoo of Adeluna’s royal cavalry on his forearm.

“Ten to one, grandpa.”

“Ten to one? Have some faith lads, I sure do!” He plucked ten crescents from his pouch and handed them to the man. “On myself, of course. Now, what do you say, fella? You ready to be whipped by a man twice your age and twice as handsome?” With the ring around them, the man was not able to back out without losing face so he nodded. “Come now son, I am an old man, hard of hearing. Did I hear you say you’d be taking my challenge or heading back to your mam’s apron?” The man glowered at Mathuin and roared that he would happily whip an old man at anything and take pleasure in it as well. The crowd shouted back its approval, and Mathuin grinned, flexing the fingers of his right hand. “Well, big fella, you give the word. Count three, and we draw, aye?” The ex-soldier nodded and shouted out the numbers, the crowd shouting with him to a crescendo at three. As the word left his lips, the bandit’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword and he began to drag it from its fleece-lined sheath. Half the steel was showing when Mathuin moved. He took a stamping step forward, startling the man a fraction of a second before Mathuin’s right fist slammed into the bridge of his nose, breaking it and sending him reeling and stunned to the ground. As the man blinked, trying to focus his eyes, Mathuin slowly drew his sword, laughing as the men around him began laugh at well, taking the loss of a crescent or two well for the pleasure of seeing the young pup humiliated so amusingly. “For a bandit, you’re an awfully trusting fella,” Mathuin said, and pulled the unsteady man back to his feet. “And here’s a lesson to go with your pretty new nose: Age and treachery beat youth and skill every time. Learn to fear the old men in a world where men die young.” Laughing, he linked arms with the man and steered him through the crowd to the stone building that used to be the lord’s hall.

The evening passed in revelry, with Mathuin selling them trinkets to please their sweethearts or placate their wives while they slept with their sweethearts, and ale, wine, and even some mead flowed liberally. He sang them songs of the North, battle songs, and then the humorous ditties that were part and parcel of the chapman’s trade. The rafters shook with the choruses known the continent over, of the husband’s seven drunken nights, of Highlander and the two lovely lasses, and countless others. By the time the men were slumped over the tables and against the walls, snoring in their stupor, it was an hour until the dawn. Matuhin yawned and nodded for Lajaka to follow him to the gatehouse. There too the men were still feeling the effects of the free flowing spirits, snoring in their bunks. Mathuin slipped his dagger out of its sheath on his belt and stepped over one of the sleeping guards. In a smooth, practiced motion, he clapped his hand over the man’s mouth and nose and drew his blade across the man’s throat with the skill of a butcher in his shambles. The man gurgled quietly and lay still, his bedding soaked in his life blood. Lajaka dealt with the other man with equal efficiency and while her man died, Mathuin pushed cots against the inside of the gatehouse door, blocking it shut. He tossed the flag to Lajaka from where he had secreted it inside his tunic. “Go hang the bastard and then get back here. We don’t leave this room until Galin’s men have the gateway secured. Move quick now, lass. We’ve got a small army waiting on us, can’t have you loafing about!” As she mounted the steps, he hauled on the lever that kept the gate’s locking bar in place and the heavy oak beam lifted back into the roof of the gatehouse, leaving the gate ripe for Galin’s assault.

While she left the signal above the gate, Mathuin cleaned his dagger on the dead man’s tunic and slipped it back into his belt, then drew his long, heavy war sword and propped it against one of the empty cots, then lay down in it. Closing his eyes, he smiled and finally relaxed when he heard Lajaka return. Without opening his eyes, he spoke to her. “I am an old man and I am tired, so be a dear and make sure they don’t wake me if they start getting suspicious about the gate. There’s a good girl.” He reached out to make sure he could easily find his sword’s hilt and once he was satisfied, he settled into the cot, hoping to catch a few moment’s rest before the inevitable chaos of the assault.

Author: Luthene, Posted: Thu Feb 4, 2016 6:10 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Even on the march, they ate like kings, especially around the fire with Galin, the officers, and their sweethearts. Maria always took care of the cooking, and it was always far better than anything Luthene might have attempted. Without a family of his own, the boy, Colum, would often join them, claiming the food was best with them. He was probably right, but Luthene suspected he enjoyed the sweets she usually gave him when dinner was over almost as much.

They had arrived on the hill by mid-afternoon, and a few men from each section were sent out to scout the village, and try to find out more about the bandits, especially their numbers.

They had just started eating their evening meal when the first pair of scouting men returned. “About a hundred men, dispersed throughout the area,” one said upon finding Galin and the others. “Many of them are peasants, but a good number might be former soldiers. Terrible discipline.” More came back over the next hour, reporting the same. It was all in line with what Mathuin had been telling Galin already.

The men all knew the plan, and the information only confirmed what they had already assumed. Still, Mathuin and Lajaka made sure to get confirmation of their orders.

“I still don’t see why I gotta wear this thing,” Lajaka grumbled. She was wearing Luthene’s grey and white dress. The two women were of a similar size, and it fit her well. Lajaka’s hair had also been combed out, though it hung loose.

“You’re not trying to be a soldier, you’re Mathuin’s niece,” Luthene replied. “Avoid saying anything bawdy unless you know they’ll like it. And take care of my dress!”

Galin went over their orders again and gave Mathuin the Company’s flag. After the pair had left, Galin went over the plan again. While some men in the sections that would be staying behind grumbled about it, they all knew how important it was to leave enough men behind to keep the women and children safe. Luthene, fortunately, would be in the fight, part of Cooper’s troop. They had trained together in the few days before they had left their camp nearer to the city, and she told Galin that his promotion of Cooper had been a good idea.

After the sun set, some men huddled under blankets for warmth and sleep, while others started making rounds around the camp, keeping watch. Luthene draped a blanket over Galin’s shoulders, then sat down beside him to sharpen her knife. It was a familiar ritual for the both of them, especially on top of that hill.

“I suppose it’s for the best that I didn’t break Ranulf’s fingers,” Luthene said. “It’s a good hauberk, and it fits well, but with all the leering he does, it had better.” She stopped for a moment, and wrapped her arm around one of Galin’s. “Don’t do anything brash like last time, alright? You’ve already got your reputation. I don’t want to have to sew you back up again.” Or worse.

Author: Galin, Posted: Thu Feb 4, 2016 3:55 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Sleep was far more restful these last days, Galin noticed, as he blinked sleepily, feeling Luthene’s fingers running over his chest, and he smiled contentedly. He put his arm around her and bent down to kiss her. “I am not going anywhere. The perks of command are few and far between, but being able to let Cooper handle rousting the men for morning duty is worth it in moments like these. It would take every sword in Adeluna to shift me right now, and even then I think the thought of staying here would give me the edge.” He stroked her side and half-closed his eyes, leaning back on their pillow, dozing in the warmth of the bed and ignoring the burdens of the day as long as he could. There was too much to worry about when he finally got out of bed so he put it off as long as he could, holding Luthene close. As he opened his mouth to say something about the poem the night before, he heard Maria’s overly cheery voice fill the hut and cringed as he sat up. “One word, Maria, just one word…”

Luthene succeeded in silencing her friend and sending her away while they dressed. He sniffed his tunic experimentally and did not grimace so he thought he could live with it for another day before he gave it to the camp laundry. Pulling it over his head, he padded over to the small table where Maria had laid their breakfast. This time the remains of the beef had given way to fried pork, a favorite of Galin’s, and he grinned. “Aye, with our contract so skillfully negotiated, we will have to get things moving soon for our departure. The cattle we have left need to be slaughtered and salted, save a few we can drive behind the company, same with the pigs. The flour we have needs to be baked, field rations, so marching biscuit, and the beans parceled out into sacking for the march. Wine, as well, we will need wine enough for two weeks ration.” He was fully of a mind to prepare now, leaving the problems of the shrinking company aside and preparing for a campaign again. This was where he flourished and it was a welcome relief from the annoyance of peace-time soldiering.

“Aye, true, you are out of practice,” he nodded, “though now you could finally live that lie about Alyson being skilled with a gentleman’s sword without being a liar,” he said with a wink and cut a large portion of the pork for himself. Chewing on a crispy piece of the skin, he considered her questions about the company, how it would have to fight. It could not stand in a line unless it only fought a handful of men, so it would have to adapt, and adapt in such a way that allowed the two sorts of soldiers to use their skills to their fullest rather than forcing men too far outside their skills. “We will need to reorganize again, but just a little. We’ve got about ninety men assured with a few that wanted another day to decide. So with three officers, we have three troops of three sections. I will need to get the best of the skirmishers spread between them. At least one proper marksman in each section, good with a bow out to three hundred yards at least. I’ll trust Cooper to spread them. The rest will be light troops. We won’t fight in the wall anymore, but in open order, closing under the cover of the skirmish line and hitting the enemy without hesitation. No lining up and marching forward, slow and steady. Hit ‘em hard and fast, then fall back under the skirmisher’s cover. Speed and ferocity, that’s the new watchwords. Open order battle, fluid…”

He trailed off, his mind forming a map of the fortress on the hill where the Crown had granted them tenuous lodgings. “Now, look here…” He tore the loaf of bread into chunks, placing them around the table in the heights and positions of the terrain around the fortress and palisade. “This here, that’s where we took the hall, the fortress, see? And this, that’s the dell where we snuck around the flank. And this here, that’s the hill an hour’s march away, clearing and all. That’s where the women and children will stay, with one section from every troop.” He pushed pieces of pork into place as the sections, and took larger pieces to be the rest of the troops. “So, it’s bandits now, not proper soldiers, so we have a better chance than before. What we’ll do…” He pushed a piece of pork toward where they attacked the first time, “we will have one troop make a clatter of noise of here, and the bandits’ll know that is how the place fell before, so they’ll be readying for a strike there.” He pushed the other two pieces in a long arc to the main gate.

“We move the other troops to the main gate, which should be nice and open, because the day before, a wandering Highland chapman and his niece will have arrived in the place, selling ribbons and baubles, singing songs, telling stories, and getting the men in there drunk as lords. So in the morning, while I’ve got Hugh rattling his spears and shields, kicking up dust, they are waking up, hung over and thinking the entire world is coming down around them. Then Mathuin and Lajaka get over to the gatehouse, push the bar, but leave the doors themselves shut. Once they’ve got that done, he’ll hang the company’s flag over the rampart, and we come out of the vill, open the gates, and settle things. The heavy troops go in first, and the skirmishers mass in the gateway in ranks, and advance, loosing like we did in the retreat.”

“It’s like…” He popped Hugh’s troop into his mouth and chewed, then smiled. “It’s like when a lord goes hunting. They release the hounds and the yeomen beat the brush and run the game to the lord who then spits it with arrows at his leisure. The heavy lads are the hounds and woodsmen and they’ll run the bandits toward the gate where the archers will take them apart.” He took the fortress in bread, tore it in half, and pushed half toward Luthene, using his half to sop up the juices and fat from the pork. “Simple as that, I figure. It ain’t fancy but it’ll keep the men safer than a proper assault like the lords would like and the bandits’ll expect. Fight them on our terms, you see, and come through it alive.” He chewed on the bread and then devoured Padraig and Cooper’s troops, washing them down with some watered wine. “So, what do you think of it? The plan, not the fact that I just ate most of the company like a bleeding dragon? And would you be able to let Maria know what we need with the bread and all? I’ll have to meet with Cooper and the other officers to make this thing come through, and then Mathuin and Lajaka.” He sighed and smiled at her, taking her hand. “And once we get settled in the fort there, I’ll have a new poem to read you,” he said softly, “and this time we’ll have a proper door.”

Author: Luthene, Posted: Thu Feb 4, 2016 10:22 AM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

“The cover is a bit deceptive,” Luthene pointed out when Galin apologized. The design contained vines, leaves, and flowers, around just two words, Love Poems. “It’s not stupid at all. It’s thoughtful. No one has ever bought me a book of poetry before. And I’m actually quite pleased that you knew that one word well enough to select this volume.” When he flushed, she kissed his cheek, and waited for him to read the first line.

It was slow, even tedious at times, but Galin made his way through each line of the poem. She encouraged him, placing her hand on his shoulder, or kissing his cheek again if he paused. Every so often, she could correct him, gently so as not to damage his pride. When he finished and set the book aside, she was flushed, but beaming. “You did very, very well,” she replied, with sincerity. “Better than anything else I’ve had you try to read, actually. I think, if it’s alright with you,,” she continued, the colour in her cheeks deepening, “I’d like to hear you read more of these poems.” She wrapped her arms around Galin’s neck. “But later.”

Breakfast came a bit later the next morning, and Luthene was glad for the opportunity to stay in bed just a bit longer. She ran her fingers gently across Galin’s chest until she felt him stir, then kissed him. “Don’t get up right away,” she said curling up against him, content to lie there a while, and in no rush to start the day.

“Breakfast!” Maria announced before stepping into the hut, and Luthene couldn’t help but groan. Maria was grinning, and looked like she was about to say something more.

“Thank you Maria,” Luthene said, cutting her off. “We’ll be out shortly.”

Sighing, Luthene sat up, and pulled on her tunic, then her trousers. Galin’s clothes were lying near the bed, and she tossed them to him before sitting down at the table. The beef from the feat a few days earlier was gone, but there was fried pork on the plate, along with fresh bread and soft cheese, and of course a single cup of tea. Luthene looked at it with some displeasure before cutting off a bit of bread.

“I expect we’ll be preparing for the move over the next few days,” Luthene said. “Though if there’s time between that and everyone swearing new oaths, I would like to go back to training. Lately I’ve been more clerk than soldier, and I don’t feel like I’m exercising enough… no, Galin, that’s not the same at all,” she added, flushing. “We may have a fight on our hands from the moment we try to take that manor, what with the bandits and such. I’ve not really trained much with my section yet, and anyway, I expect we’ll be fighting differently now. The men will need to prepare for that, and I will as well, before we bring the women and our things. Actually, you never did tell me, how many are we, now? Fighting men, plus women and families. I know most of the widows left, but I don’t know how many men left as well. Not many, I hope?”

Author: Galin, Posted: Wed Feb 3, 2016 9:42 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

When he finally found Luthene, she was in their hut, her whetstone scraping long, slow strokes down the edge of her sword, a ritual he had seen her perform countless times before. But love was a strange thing, and he waited, the hanging half-open, and watched a while, looking at her face screwed up in concentration as she honed her blade. Finally stepping into the room, he bent down to kiss her and smiled. “You look a dangerous beauty, you and that sword. Makes me a lucky sort of man, even if Ranulf doesn’t agree.” Before he sat, he stripped off his war belt and armor, hanging them from the stand near their bed and, in his tunic and breeches, sat across from her with a giddy smile. “I got something for you in the market, you know. That’s why I left.” He fished the book out of his pack and pushed it across the table to her, binding first. “See, it’s got a word I know very well on there and it made me think of you. Love.”

She was instantly pleased and leaned over the table to kiss him before opening the book and starting to read it. Galin leaned back in his seat and grinned from ear to ear, happy to have been able to pull off a surprise of this magnitude and see the happiness on his lover’s face. And then, as ever, she flushed. Galin’s face fell and he worried if he had made a mistake, if he had misread the book’s subject and done something that would offend her. When she spoke, it took him a few moments to piece together what she meant, the truth of the book’s nature. So it was love poems, he had been right about that, but they were more the sort that his men might enjoy than a woman of Luthene’s temperament. He sighted and let his head fall to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said, utterly dejected that his grand plan had failed so spectacularly. “I was an idiot, of course, rushing about without more than a handful of letters to my name and presuming to buy a book for you. Bloody stupid.” Then she took his hand and he looked at her with no small measure of confusion. Instead of berating him for the presumptuous ass he clearly was, she led him, book in hand, to their bed and sat with him on its edge. She held the book open for him and said that she wanted him to read it. “Aloud, you mean?” She nodded and held the book closer, smiling with encouragement as he flushed twice as red as she had, knowing that his skill with reading was limited to grain bills and troop dispositions. But, he thought, after the potentially unmitigated disaster of giving her a book of what amounted to barracks room doggerel poems, he had little choice.

He cleared his throat, buying time as he read the first lines over and over, sounding the letters out in his head and giving the sounds meaning together. At least it was in bloody Adelunian, he thought to himself, and not some other damned script. He could tell letters tolerably well enough and, if he spoke slowly, it would give him time to read ahead and assemble the disparate sounds into words. And so he began, softly, with very little confidence, his finger traveling along the parchment a line ahead of the line he read, cheating the next words into his head so he could prepare. The rhyme made things easier, allowing him to know how at least a word each verse was spoken and that gave him a measure of calm, taking at least a little of the uncertainty out of the task.

“I dreamed this mortal part of mine
Was metamorphosed to a vine,
Which crawling one and every way
Enthralled my dainty Lucia.
Methought her long small legs and thighs
I with my tendrils did surprise;
Her belly, buttocks, and her waist
By my soft nervelets were embraced.
About her head I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung,
So that my Lucia seemed to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.”

Some words he recognized easily, though not because of his limited education, but because the topic of the poem was quite explicit and he had lived among soldiers long enough to know exactly what the poet had in mind, because truth be told, without the vines and grapes, he had shared the same sorts of thoughts nearly every day since he had first shaved. Still, the strangeness of the poem divorced him somewhat from the understanding of it, as he was a simple, grounded man to whom language was a tool to be used to an end, a hammer more than a painter’s palette.

“My curls about her neck did crawl,
And arms and hands they did enthrall,
So that she could not freely stir
(All parts there made one prisoner).
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts which maids keep unespied,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took
That with the fancy I awoke;
And found (ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a stock than like a vine.”

Some of the words, even as he read ahead, made him pause and mouth them to himself, breaking the rhythm of the line, and once or twice, Luthene would gently correct his pronunciation, over his mutterings that the letters on the page sounded nothing like that sounds she taught him they represented. It was a constant complaint of his but, as she explained, one that he would never find stasifaction for, so he had to grin and bear it as best he could. His pride, fragile enough as it was, was close to breaking and he was tempted to take the book and hurl it into the hearth and let the flames digest conjugations and declinations instead. But he was nothing if not dogged and, by the light of a rush lamp as the shadows fell throughout the camp, he forged on through the poem until he came to the final verse

“Upon the Nipples of Julia's Breast
Have you beheld (with much delight)
A red rose peeping through a white?
Or else a cherry (double graced)
Within a lily? Centre placed?
Or ever marked the pretty beam,
A strawberry shows, half drowned in cream?
Or seen rich rubies blushing through
A pure smooth pearl, and orient too?
So like to this, nay all the rest,
Is each neat niplet of her breast.”

He smiled at Luthene, a little shyly, wondering how she would react. The poem was far, far more explicit than she had ever been with him with her words and part of him worried that the reading of it only compounded his foolishness in purchasing the book at all. Putting the book aside, conveniently close enough to be kicked into the hearth’s embers, he took her hands and kissed her softly, then pulled back to look her in the eye. “So, how did I do?”

Author: Luthene, Posted: Wed Feb 3, 2016 7:26 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

“Keep drinking that tea Maria gave you and you’ll be with child in no time!”

Luthene’s eyes widened and the women burst out laughing. “Did you see the look on her face!” another woman said, before trying to mimic Luthene’s expression.

“It’s not… it won’t actually…” Luthene said.

“No, it won’t,” Maria replied, still laughing, but kindly. “It’s the same stuff we all use, except perhaps Julia,” she added, indicating the first woman who has spoke, who was clearly pregnant.

“Aye. Should have made Eoin wear a sheepskin,” Julia said, placing her hand on her abdomen. “At least he wed me before he went off and died. I expect I’ll stay with my mother for a while until this little one is born, and I don’t think she’d be too kind if I got myself a bastard.”

“Come with us,” Luthene offered.

Julia shook her head. “No place for me now my Eoin’s gone. We’ll be fine.”

Luthene nodded. “I’ll see if we can get you anything more,” she promised.

The afternoon stretched into evening, and Luthene heard similar tales from women newly widowed who wanted to part ways with the Company. There were a few who asked to stay in spite of it, and Luthene asked them to see Maria about work, seeing as she knew better than Luthene did what sort of tasks needed to be done that might be suited to them.

When she could spare a moment, Luthene went to the kitchen, where there was a large pot of hot beef stew waiting. She took a bowl to Galin in the armoury, then returned to the kitchen to eat herself. Colum found her there and she gave him a bowl as well when he said he was hungry, and did she have more candies?

Luthene was in their hut when Galin returned, sharpening and oiling her sword. In spite of the somewhat somber task he had completed, he seemed a bit giddy. Then he revealled what he had purchased when he left her with Ranulf: a book. He read the word “love” on the spine, that was how he knew to get that it.

“Thank you!” Luthene exclaimed, kissing him. She opened the cover, and her eyes scanned the first few lines… and she flushed. “They’re love poems, but… with more emphasis on the physical act than you may have intended.” An idea struck her. Still holding the book, she took Galin’s hand and lead him to the bed. Sitting down beside him, she handed it to him, open to the first page. “I want you to read it.”

Author: Galin, Posted: Wed Feb 3, 2016 5:55 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

“Come off it Ranulf, we can both see there are two there. However, you can’t even imagine how wonderful a pair they are, believe me.” He winked and laughed at the old smith and squeezed Luthene with an arm around her waist, letting her know that, joking aside, she was safe and protected, even if she was capable enough to handle herself. “And if you want it, darling, you can borrow my knife and teach the old goat some manners.” He kissed her forehead and smiled easily, then let her go to go through a rack of weapons at the side of Ranulf’s smithy. “This is too good a blade to be yours, Ranulf, so who made the thing?” Galin pulled a shorter, single-edged, curved blade from the rack, its blade shimmering with like a peacock’s blue feathers in the light of the forge’s fire. It was sharp along the curving edge, wickedly sharp, and came to a fine point, with a sharpened section along the top six inches of the blade’s spine.

“Dwarven steel, buggers call it sapphire steel from the color and to make ‘emselves seem properly fancier than us mere humans with our inferior steel… that we just call steel.” It was clear from his tone that Ranulf held the dwarves in contempt but there was no mistaking the craftsmanship of the piece. It would be a good weapon if he continued to serve in a skirmishing capacity, something for close-in work where his heavy war sword would be unwieldy to the point of endangering himself. “You don’t want it, do you? Oh Maker’s bollocks, you do. I wonder about you, man, with your taste in women and now swords. Are you sure you ain’t some southern dandy, more a fan of a soft boy’s arse?” Galin glared at him and stuck the blade back in its black leather scabbard.

“Tell Luthene the cost, I’m taking it. And my love, I’ve got to head into the market for a few other things, odds and ends for the company. I’ll meet you at Blas’ shop in a half hour?” He leaned down and kissed her, not caring that Ranulf smirked and snickered, and knowing full well the man would overcharge for the dwarven blade. It was not his normal style, but something that gave a bit more reach than his fighting knife but would not be as difficult in close quarters as his heavy sword was something worth having, even if he was gouged on the price. He tied the slings of the dwarven blade to his warbelt so it slung nearly horizontally behind him. It took a few yards of walking to get used to the new weight on his belt but Galin was confident that he had made a good choice, if only for the quality of the blade’s steel alone.

The market was more bustling that it had been the last time he had been in the City, a sign that it was starting to recover from the plague. At the height of the deaths and contagion, not a single stall was open and now it was a vibrant sea of colors, scents, and sounds, almost overwhelming at first sight. Ever unhappy to have to deal with a crowded city, Galin shouldered his way into the masses toward a book seller, a Pavporan man with a nut-brown complexion, hawking books in every language under the two moons, if his Adelunian was to be understood. Galin scanned the books in the stall, looking for a single word with an intense focus, trying to block out the noise of the bazaar so he could concentrate on reading. His face lit up when he found it, tracing his fingers over the letters incised in the binding. LOVE. Perfect, he thought, and counted three crescents into the man's hand, wondering what his leering smile was all about. Shrugging at the strangeness of foreigners, he pushed the book into his pack and headed back to the goldsmith's where Luthene had already got the chest out of the vault and secured to the back of her horse. As they rode back to the camp, he smiled at her, barely containing himself knowing he had a surprise for her, one she was sure to love. "So, how much did Ranulf end up demanding for the new gear? He always was a pikey bastard, fleecing his own like that. And next time, if he reaches out, break his fingers."

The camp was abuzz with activity when they returned. When he dismounted and heard her whisper, he grinned at her. "I know something that will get you feeling all to rights again soon, but it will have to wait," he whispered back and kissed the hollow of her neck as Colum lead the horses away, chewing on his sweet. "Now, I will be in the Armory, so send the men there, and the women as well," he said, hugging her a moment before leaving for the work of counting and accounting for the company's cash reserves. It was a task that stretched into the evening, as men came, asking to be released to find new work or settle with their wives, and Galin paid them the wages they were owed and, whenever he could, found a way to press a few more coins into their hands to ease the parting of comrades. These came out of his own hoard and soon he would be as poor as any man, but these men had suffered enough and he would do what he could to ease their transition into the world of civilians. By the time it was over, he had only a few crescents to his name and about a hundred odd men still under arms, but he had done right. Closing the ledger, he tucked it under his arm and wandered out into the camp to find Luthene and see if she still needed his cure for her soreness.

Author: Luthene, Posted: Wed Feb 3, 2016 9:47 AM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Luthene had originally thought it presumptuous to draw up a new contract before negotiations even started, but she did so anyway, according to Galin’s specifications. He had a good head for numbers, she noted, possibly even a bit better than her own, and she wrote down his figures. She thought they might need to haggle a bit, and suggested they propose a higher amount at first, but trusted Galin when he said he had a plan. He was the captain, and she wasn’t even an officer, and right now she was more a clerk than a soldier.

Things got off on the wrong foot quickly enough, with the magistrate insulting the Company’s abilities. She didn’t think they would leave with the contract they wanted, especially when she saw how angry Galin was. She gave a very slight shake of her head, and Galin ignored that in favour of assaulting the man. In the end, the contract Luthene drew up was signed and sealed.

“I thought his eyes were going to burst,” Luthene said with a smile. She rolled up the parchment and put it in her bag. “Now, I was the fool who let Cedric use her shield, and now I’m in need of a new one. I think I have enough for a hauberk as well.”

The last time Luthene had seen Ranulf, she had been Alyson of Egjora. The armourer recognized her, and raised an eyebrow when Galin introduced her again using her true name. “Luthene, eh?” he said. “During the war, we always figured you stood eight feet tall and had three tits.” He moved closer to her, one hand outstretched. “Sure there ain’t three in there?”

Luthene stepped back and clung to Galin. “Lucky for you I don’t have my knife, or you’d lose that hand.”

Galin’s response made Luthene flush, and the men laughed. Galin told Ranulf what he was looking for, then mentioned he had something else to pick up and he’d meet Luthene later at the goldsmith’s. She nodded, then pulled him closer so she could kiss him. Ranulf smirked.

“A shield, please,” Luthene said, getting back to business. “Round, same as the men use. And how long would it take to make a hauberk?”

Ranulf thought. “I’ve got one started, maybe two days to have it ready. Such a wee thing, but I suppose that makes for a nice, tight fit.”

It took a moment for Luthene to understand, and then she coloured again. She took the shield, and left enough silver for both it and the hauberk before leaving. Most of the anger had left her by the time she reached the street where Blas’ shop was. There was a confectioner’s stall set up nearby, and bought a bag of assorted candies.

Galin would not tell her what he had wanted to buy, in spite of Luthene’s urging. Their new contract was left with Blas for safekeeping, and they carried the silver back to the camp. The boy, Colum, was waiting when the returned with their horses, ready to take care of the saddles. Luthene stumbled a bit getting off her horse. “I think I’m a little sore still,” she whispered to Galin. Then, crouching down so she was level with the boy, she opened the bag of candies. “Just one,” she said. “But there might be more once you’ve had your dinner.”

Leave Colum to see to the horses, Luthene took her things back to her hut. “I think I should go see the women before we eat,” she said. “I need to be available for those who wish to leave. I’ll see you at dinner.” She kissed him, then went looking for Maria and the other women.

Author: Galin, Posted: Tue Feb 2, 2016 5:54 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Sipping his pint at his old, familiar table, Galin felt the strangeness of his life in a more immediate way. Months ago, he would sneak out to this tavern to meet Isabella, believing that Luthene did not see him as anything but a comrade in arms. Now Isabella was dead and buried from the plague and he and Luthene admitted feelings for each other. The Maker, he thought for the millionth time in his life, was a capricious bastard, and he knew he would think it a million times more. But it was no matter, the present was the present and it was useless to contemplate what things may or may not have been. Instead, he focused on the terms in the contract with the Crown, simple enough, a crescent a day for each man, as well as fourteen cattle and pigs a week or the equivalent in barreled beef, fifty barrels of flour, and three hundred bushels of whatever vegetables and beans were in season. It amounted to a ration of about a pound of beef, a pound of bread, and a pound of vegetables a day, though those rations were more a standard than the actual practice. On top of that, every man was entitled to a gallon of beer or a quart of wine a day, provided by the Company, in addition to whatever they procured for themselves. It was a staggering undertaking, feeding a company like theirs, with a thousand men at arms, but it was still a very lean contract, Galin thought, as each man had to feed his family out of his ration and wages and after a while, that may start to pinch.

“Well, if my numbers are right,” Galin said as they walked to the offices of the exchequer, their pints downed and arguments prepared, “It cost them three and a quarter thousand crescents a week to feed us and all, and another one and a half thousand on top for wages. So about six thousand a week, twenty four thousand a month.” He paused and cursed. “That’s a lot of bloody money. Maker’s cods… Well, regardless, we’ve only got about one in ten of our old numbers, so we should be one in ten the price of the company before, no? So I think, so we don’t have hard winters, we could live on about five hundred a week, give or take. Shouldn’t be too terrible for the Crown, see, if we’re to do their dirty work too and hold the castle out there in debatable land, and costing about as much as year as the company did a month.” He did not have a head for letters but numbers came easily enough to him, at least the simple ones like sums and figures on the ledger about the company.

At the offices of the Crown’s exchequer, Galin was able to convince one of the clerks to get him and Luthene in front of one of the principal magistrates quickly with a subtle combination of flattery and a threat to pull the man’s balls out through his mouth. Once there, seated in an opulent enough room with three hanging tapestries from across the sea and a roaring fire, Galin gave the magistrate a long, hard look. He had the soft look of a palace dweller, as Galin called the host of people that flocked to the royal service like flies to shit. Pale and overweight, with bulging eyes and a receding hairline, he looked more like a toad than a man and Galin, ever quick to judge, instantly disliked him and his condescending tone. “Oh, I see,” the man droned on after Galin explained the situation, his voice like a particularly pedantic teacher speaking to a slow, stubborn child. “You get your men slaughtered by a little more than a rabble of alewives and farmers with mallets, and now you are asking my leave to move, vacate your contracts, and what’s more, to be given a new contract and lands to hold for the Queen when you could not see off a handful of rebellious muck farmers? Have I about given you the measure of it, Northman?”

Galin took the silver-inlaid cup of sweet white wine from the table alongside him and downed it in a gulp, then stood menacingly, his armored bulk seeming to fill the room as he radiated anger. The fingers of his right hand closed on the hilt of his fighting knife while his left crushed the goblet’s bowl into a misshapen lump of metal that he let fall to the stone floor with a dull ringing bounce. He could see Luthene trying to restrain him with a look but he ignored her and crossed the garret chamber in a single long bound and grabbed the royal functionary by his heavy gold chain of office. The man began to squawk like a wet chicken, demanding to be unhanded, did he know what offense he was giving the Crown and its dignity? Galin just grinned, the same grin he always wore when he fought, and dragged the man over to an open window overlooking the courtyard three stories below.

“One more word against the company and we will see if you fly,” Galin growled and pushed him half out of the window, holding him up by the gold chain around his neck. “Now I know you are a reasonable man,” he said in the same calm, conversational tone he used when he had been interrogating the prisoner on Aelle’s ship. “And I know you can find it in your ledgers to pay for the survivors of a raid your people bolloxed up to a fare-thee-well and give them a plot of land you and your incompetent bastards can’t defend yourselves. And pay us like I said, before, enough cattle, pigs, flour, and vegetables for one hundred men, and pay at the old rate. If not, I will throw you out this window now and you’ll have a few long seconds to contemplate your mistake before your brains are scattered over the cobbles. And,” Galin continued, grabbing the cruet of wine from the table with his other hand and pouring it all over the terrified dignitary, “no one will suspect anything more than another drunk, miserable clerk threw himself out a window when some scheme or other was discovered. Death and disgrace, my lord, or a manor, food, and pay. It’s your choice, after all. You’re the one with the chain of office.” Galin jerked on the chain and the man gasped in abject terror, babbling that Galin could have whatever he wanted, so long as he let him back into the room.

“Luckily, Luthene has taken the liberty of drawing up a contract with just these stipulations. Your signature and seal, if you please, my lord,” Galin said, hauling the man back in and throwing him bodily at his desk where Luthene had deposited the parchment. With a shaking hand he signed and sealed the document, and handed it back to Luthene. “She’s left you a copy as well for your records. Now, I was thinking, the holding of Lord Arnholt, who we so kindly murdered for your Queen last summer… We will be taking that and, as a bonus, clearing out the brigands that have holed up there. Once we’ve done that, and repaired the place, expect an itemized list of expenditures. But don’t worry, we will leave an address in the city to send the coin, no need to trouble yourself bringing it all the way to us by hand.” The man was as white as a sheet when Galin finished and Galin winked at Luthene, then opened the chamber door. “A pleasure doing business with you, my lord. We will show ourselves out.”

As he slammed the oor behind them, Galin broke out into a laughing fit. “Maker’s bollocks, but did you see his face? That was bloody priceless!”

Author: Luthene, Posted: Tue Feb 2, 2016 9:17 AM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

There was some quiet immediately after the laughter died as the men looked to each other and to their officers— Cooper, Hugh, Padraig and Donchad, as well as their more immediate section officers— to confirm what Galin said. Luthene’s heart pounded as she waited, worried for a moment that she had been wrong about their willingness to follow him. Then some men began to stomp their feet, and hit the shafts of their spears against their shields, and she smiled and did the same. Galin drew his sword and saluted the men who had accepted him as their leader, and she was pleased to see that he was smiling.

For a moment, after Galin had used her name, Luthene didn’t think anything of it. It was her name, after all. The confusion on the faces of a handful of the men tipped her off, however, and she was impressed with how Galin had handled it. Just an off-hand comment, rather than having her address the men and give another embarrassing apology.

Before following Galin to the stables, Luthene went back to their hut and changed into her dress again, getting Maria to help with tying it. If they were going to meet with a Crown envoy, this would be better for her. She also stuffed Domnall’s ledger into a bag, and returned to hear Galin tell a boy of about eight or so to run along. She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. “Who’s Colum?” she asked, tossing Galin his cloak and getting into the saddle.

“I think it went precisely as well as I expected,” Luthene said with a smile as they rode towards the city. She could tell he was pleased, in spite of his efforts to keep his words modest. “The men like you, and they trust you to lead them. Will you have them swear new oaths?”

They reached the goldsmith and Galin nearly fell from the saddle. Luthene could dismount well enough on her own, but she still took the hand Galin offered, then flushed when he suggested a ring. “Maybe he does,” she said, though she knew he spoke in jest. “Though the tradition is for a man to give his woman a ring when they are wed, or at least betrothed. Be careful about offering something like that, even in jest. I might accept.”

Galin held the door while Luthene entered, holding the ledger. Inside, there was a young man at the forge, probably an apprentice. “We’re looking for Blas,” Luthene said.

“Who’s ‘we’?” A gruff-looking man appeared from behind a leather flap.

“This is Galin,” Luthene said, gesturing to him. “New captain of the Company.”

Blas raised his eyebrow. “What happened to Domnall?”

“Died of plague a little more than a month ago,” she explained. She saw Blas touch a medallion around his neck, and she waited until his lips stopped moving in silent prayer before she continued. “I have his ledger. He left about thirty thousand silver with you, and Galin has need of that.”

Again, Blas raised his eyebrow. “There was a man in here a few days ago demanding that money, said he was Domnall’s successor.”

The colour left Luthene’s face. “Did you give it to him?”

“That’s Company money,” he replied. “Not for one man, and I could tell by the look of him that he was going to take it and run.”

She was relieved. “That man left behind quite a few widows and orphans, and the silver is for them, plus to pay any man who wishes to leave the Company now,” she explained. “Cormac was the one who kept this ledger, and his wife and son are among those we mean to care for.”

Blas nodded. “Cormac was a good man.” He turned to the boy. “Juan. Get the chest, the one with the Company seal.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a contract in there as well?”

“The one with the Crown, aye.” Blas jerked his thumb at Galin. “Is he the captain, or you?”

Luthene smiled. “Just the contract for now, and we’ll be back in a few hours for the silver.”

When the chest was brought to him, Blas produced a key from around his neck, opened it, and took out a scroll. Luthene took the contract, and her and Galin left the shop. “I’d like to read this over before we meet with an envoy,” she said. “You and I need to get our personal money from the Mermaid anyway. Let’s go there, and have a drink. Then I can read this to you if you want, or just summarize what it says if you’d prefer.”

Author: Galin, Posted: Mon Feb 1, 2016 8:36 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Galin was not a very stubborn man but that night it took a great deal of convincing on Luthene’s part to persuade him to let go of his anger at her conduct during the conference of officers. First she nearly assured that he was stuck with command and then she made him out to be some sort of scholar, as she had been teaching him to read against his better judgment. Still and all, it had been an enjoyable night and so too the wee hours of the morning. Maria arrived with food and a knowing grin again and this time Galin hurled a boot at her, the hobnailed sole thumping on the wood of the door frame as she slipped back out behind the leather hanging. Shaking his head at her impudence, he leaned over to kiss Luthene and felt her stirring. Letting her wake in her own time, he slipped out of the bed and prepared for the day’s inspection.

After the meeting the evening before, Galin had found one of the boys around the camp, the orphan of one of the men in his old company, and gave him a crescent to clean his mail hauberk with sand and vinegar until the links shone like silver in the sun. The boy had done a good job, Galin noted as he inspected it where it hung on a small stand. Not a spot of rust remained, he saw approvingly and his helmet was likewise burnished to a brilliant silver sheen. For a while the night before, while he brooded over Luthene’s unthinking betrayal of his confidence, he had sharpened and oiled his sword and fighting knife before he decided that his time was much better spent making peace with his woman, so they hung from the stand, gleaming and ready. It would not do, after all, for a commander to look the part of an unkempt recruit when he inspected his men, and like it or not, Galin was stuck in the position of commander until there was a better option available to him.

Luthene staggered getting out of bed and Galin stifled a laugh at her predicament, but not quickly enough to avoid a good-natured glare. “Aye, I think we ought to head into the City. I have a few things there that need taking care of, as it is, along with Domnall’s silver.” He winked when she flushed and pushed a piece of bread onto her plate. “Trust me, love, they know exactly why you’ve been busy and wouldn’t expect any less. Nothing they havne’t been guilty of, and their men late for parade, much to their detriment.” He nodded and ate some of the beef himself, mulling over her thoughts on the widows’ situation. “Aye, we will need the silver for sure, with them needing their men’s pay and all. And the contract would help. In the City, I think we might be able to wedge ourselves into a Crown envoy’s offices long enough to get ourselves situated again with work and pay.” He grinned when she mentioned a proper door and kissed him, pulling her close again and illustrating very clearly what would happen behind the privacy of that closed, bolted door.

It was good that Luthene was also a soldier because once they had final disentangled themselves from each other and the sheets again, she helped him into his armor, ensuring it did not look like he had rushed straight from bed, even if they were already a quarter hour late. By the time they reached the company, the men were starting to mill around impatiently, but a bark from Cooper snapped them back into ranks, though not without more than a few knowing grins and winks. Somewhere in the back of the formation, someone mimicked the sorts of sounds that came from their hut until Cooper, prowling quietly behind the malefactor, clouted him on the ear. “Company ready for inspection, Galin,” he called in a bellow that was pitched to roar over a battlefield, and Galin nodded.

“I think it is only right to first lay out the facts, before I inspect you all. After the terrible fate of our comrades, I want to know you are all now released from any oaths that bind you here, with no malice or shame. If you choose to leave, I will pay you all I can from Domnall’s silver so that you are able to live well after you leave these walls. This goes,” he said, his voice pitched to carry as well, “for the widows and orphans as well. You will be seen to in the same way. We plan to petition the Crown to move us to the manor where we stormed the lord’s fortress, and use that land as our own. It is three days ride from here, so those that do not want to make that journey and prefer to remain in the City, you are welcome to part ways with our blessing and respect.

“Finally, I have spoken with the other officers and we have decided that, of us, I am to maintain command of the company, in concert with the other officers as advisors. I, for one, would rather be with you, in the ranks, where a man’s a proper soldier, but someone’s got to be in charge of you goat-swiving drunks, no offense Maria but you know how Cooper gets on a march,” he paused as a titter of laughter came through the ranks, relieving some of the tension of the moment. He knew he looked every inch the warlord that Domnall had seen in him, his mail shining, his mail and helmet glinting like some wandering bard’s image of a hero, but he knew it was just the sun as ever it was. But still, in that moment, he felt in command for the first time since Domnall pushed the burden onto his shoulders. The men whispered among themselves, some looking to their officers to confirm what Galin said, and, once they were assured that this was not a rash power grab, they began to stamp and hammer their spear shafts against the iron rims of their shields. With that clamor, Galin was accepted as their leader in the most ancient fashion of the North.

Grinning, he drew his sword and held the hilt to his eyes and saluted them in recognition of the honor they did him, an honor he did not want but could not deny. “Men, you are dismissed. After the evening meal, those that want to strike out, come to the armory and you will be paid off and given whatever we can to provision you. The rest, you are dismissed until noon. Then you are Cooper’s. Owen,” he said, using the man’s given name for the first time, “you are in charge. Luthene and I are heading to gather Domnall’s treasure and see if we can’t choke a few more crescents out of the Crown. Carry on.” Leaving the men grinning and explaining to the particularly dense of the company Luthene’s terribly executed deception, Galin motioned for her to follow him to the stables, where their mounts were saddled by the same orphan boy that had cleaned Galin’s armor. He ruffled the young boy’s hair as he took the reins. “Now run along, Colum. And don’t get into trouble, you hear? At least no trouble you can’t whup,” Galin said with a crooked grin as he hauled himself heavily onto the horse’s back.

The pair rode through the camp, through the ruined north gate to the city of Adeluna and, as the camp faded behind them, Galin turned to Luthene. “So, how do you think that went? Seemed better than I expected,” he said casually, trying not to let the pride of the acclaim creep into his tone. The city gates were open as it was a market day and Galin smiled, planning a little surprise for Luthene if he could find time between supplies, silver, and civil servants. “The smith’s down this way, same road as the Mermaid but closer near the gate. You see, the one with the gold chalice and the small forge?” He pointed to a well-to-do smith’s place of business and guided the horse awkwardly toward it, still hating to ride. “The man’s name is Blas, a man of the City. You have the ledger, so I’ll let you do the talking and I’ll just menace him like something out of a Highland nightmare if he gets mouthy.” Half-falling from the roan’s back, he scrambled to his feet and offered Luthene a hand to dismount with a wink and a grin. “Shall we, my love? Maybe he might even have those silly rings you southron ladies like so much when you’ve taken unto yourself a man,” he said off-handedly as he helped her from the saddle, expecting the fluster and blush that followed. “Lead on, dear, lead on. We haven't got all day, you know!”

Author: Luthene, Posted: Mon Feb 1, 2016 7:07 PM, Post Subject: Meet the New Boss [P, R]

Once again, it was a kiss that finally lulled Luthene awake. It had taken some time to get Galin’s forgiveness after telling the officers he could read, and in truth, she didn’t even mind it. They were awake well into the night again as a result, and she slept soundly, even though Maria had announced there was another tray of food left out for them, along with her freshly-washed tunic and trousers. She was exhausted, but cancelling the inspection again wasn’t an option.

“Good morning,” Luthene said with a smile, leaning in to kiss Galin one more time before getting up. She sat up in the bed, the blanket still covering her, and pulled on her shift. Galin was already at the table, but when Luthene stood up to join him, she stumbled. “Don’t you laugh,” she mumbled, but it was too late.

“I imagine someone will need to visit the goldsmith for Domnall’s silver later today,” Luthene said once she reached the table. She speared a piece of fried beef with her knife and ate that while her tea cooled enough that she could drink it quickly. “No women have spoken to me about leaving yet,” she added, “but they may. They haven’t really seen much of me since the feast.” She flushed a bit. “It took us three days riding to get to that manor, and I expect many of the widows will prefer to take whatever we can afford to give them rather than move such a distance. That may be for the best, anyway, as there will be less work for them there, and less space. But anyway, my hope is that the goldsmith also has Domnall’s copy of the contract with the Crown. It will be a lot easier to read and understand our new contract if I can look over the old one first, and compare.”

As she’d done the morning before, Luthene pinched her nose before gulping down her tea. Then she finished her breakfast and stood up to get dressed. “I’ll tell you what I’m looking forward to most,” she added. “A proper door.” She leaned down to kiss Galin again, and he pulled her into his lap.

By the time they were both dressed, the men had been waiting a good twenty minutes. “Sorry,” Luthene mumbled as she took her place with the men. Judging by the snickers of the men, Galin was not in the least big apologetic, and when she turned to face him, he actually looked a bit smug. She glared for a moment, then waited for Galin to address the men.