Luthene might have hit him, but she saw Galin's hand up, protecting himself from just such an action. She elbowed him in the ribs instead, though not to cause pain. "Left your flank exposed." Her tone was serious, but the smile she tried to repress was breaking through.

If Luthene was herself, Ranulf's comment about her would not have gone unchallenged. Alyson, however, might have responded in a wholly different manner, and Luthene wasn't ready for that. Before her cheeks started to colour, she threw back her head and laughed, and inwardly, was pleased with how genuine it sounded. Ranulf was ugly, mean, and crude, but she could see that he did good work. Besides, it was Galin's silver, and she wasn't about to say anything to insult the blacksmith and get them turned away. Galin suggested a knife like his own, and she was glad for it; it would take some work to get used to, the blade longer than those she had fought with previously, but those were also the sort of knives the other men would have. A helm was also suggested, and Luthene nodded.

They were told that it would be an hour or two to get the armour ready, and Galin took her arm to lead her to the Mermaid. As soon as they were safely away, Luthene released the breath she'd been holding, and shuddered a bit. The way the blacksmith looked at her had not escaped her notice, and it wasn't just because he was sizing her up for her cuirass. On some level, Luthene was used to such gazes, having fought among hard men for years. But then, she had never had to hide the fact that it bothered her. This would be a constant challenge for her, every day, for the next year at least. Perhaps a pint would help. It couldn't hurt.

"Vilpamolan," Luthene added, naming the pirate haven that was once, long ago, an Adelunan outpost. As expected from a daughter of the south, her pronunciation of the city's name was perfect. "I think the story works. You managed to take what you wanted, but I managed to protect the merchant's person. Not that he was grateful, but merchants never are." She was silent when a barmaid brought them each a tankard of ale, along with a plate of bread and cheese.

"Welcome back," the barmaid said in a sultry voice. Luthene looked up and saw she was addressing Galin. After a moment, she realized that this was the same woman who had served them the previous night, and given Galin the extra tankard.

The barmaid ran her fingers across Galin's chest as she leaned down and whispered something in his ear that Luthene couldn't hear. When she finished, she kissed his cheek, rose, and winked at him before going back to work.

Under the table, Luthene kicked him, and she wanted it to hurt. "If you want to convince your men you're serious about me," she hissed quietly, fighting hard to keep the anger under control, "you might want to try being more discrete about your whoring around. Now, what you do with serving wenches is your business, I'm not about to stop you, but I don't want to know about it." Picking up her tankard, Luthene took a long drink. She set it back down a bit too hard, but no one was paying them much mind. "Now. Anything else I should know about the men?"

"Not a fan of Ranulf's manners, I take it," he said as she shuddered on the walk, shaking his head with a soft smile.  "I would have warned you but it is a lot more interesting this way."  He nudged her and smiled wider.  "I think you handled it well, and, to be fair, he was wrong to say that."  He paused a moment, then leaned closer to whisper to her, barely suppressing a laugh.  "You're plenty pretty as you are." 

"Strange name, that, but you southerners are always saying strange things.  Like 'Let's start a war to kill the gods' and 'Fighting warriors from the North will be easy' and 'No, I find your accent and manners repulsive, you inbred son of a whore.'  No accounting for the strangeness of the south," he said, his easy, joking way coming out around Luthene.  It was one of the things that endeared him to the men he served with because there was never a time he could not be called on for a good joke or a bawdy song to lift the spirits.  It may not have been as useful as skill as others a warrior could possess but it was one Galin always valued.  "But aye, that story should work."

He smiled and winked at the barmaid, Isabella, if he remembered correctly from the night before.  It seemed she had survived after he left and was less upset than he expected.  Instead, she whispered to him that, if he was of a mind, she would be done around the same time tonight and they could just go right to her room if he wanted.  Galin resisted the urge to react to her advances, only grinning at her when she walked away.  "Great service in this place," he said with an amused smile that lasted only until Luthene kicked his shin.  He jerked his knee back and hit it into the table, rattling the wooden plate of food and nearly upending his pint. 

He looked hurt a moment, and not from her kick, but her words.  Exhaling slowly, he looked at her, the joking tone from before forgotten.  "Well, I would rather I not be going about like that, you know…   Rather just find a lass, ask for her proper and stay by her. But maybe it's the lass I'd thought of doesn't think the same so I make do with what I can.  Can't blame a man for that, though, for the sake of your story, I will be more thoughtful."  His lips twitched in a sad half smile, and then he looked away, busying himself with his food.  When he spoke, he had forced back the joking, carefree tone but it did not have as much conviction as before.  "Well, the lads, we won't be fighting like you did.  Shield wall is the order of battle, not nobility and prowess.  So they'll have to trust you to cover them with your shield as they will cover you.  So remember that, and make an effort to know them.  They are good men, even if they are a bit rougher than you'd prefer.  Most of us from up there are.  Otherwise, well, just don't screw it up!"

"What manners?" Luthene retorted with a laugh. "He doesn't have any!" At least she had Galin's confirmation that she'd handled it well. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, and she pushed him away. "None of that from you," she said, but her face was colouring again. Just the cold, she thought. It was the heart of autumn, and the warm afternoon was fading away to a chillier evening, at least by southern standards.

"I have never called you an inbred son of a whore!" Luthene said, laughing and feigning offence. "And I never thought fighting you Northmen would be easy; I know better. Don't forget, I tried to recruit you for our side." She paused, and took a sip of her ale. "I might have said that bit about the manners of the North, though, but you can't say I'm wrong." This was what she liked about being around Galin, and why, at least for her part, they'd reminded friends even now. It had been easy in the beginning, and though his humour was sometimes crude, it was hard not to laugh around the man. Now, in spite of the war, they managed to fall back into the old camaraderie. There had been a few rough spots already, true, but they'd had disagreements in the past, too. They always made it work, somehow.

The barmaid had disrupted their good-humoured talk, however. Luthene was fuming, but the anger left when she saw how hurt Galin was, and heard him speak. Of course. Asmodeia He had asked for her hand, and had been prepared to stay by her side. But it had not worked out, and it was Luthene's fault, at least in part. She had played a role in Timedeath, and Timedeath had been the reason Asmodeia left him.

Luthene glanced at the table, unable to meet Galin's eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should not have said that. I'll… try to be kinder going forward." Why had she said it? It was no concern of hers who Galin took to bed, and while there was a ruse to keep up, would the men of the company really find it odd of Galin had a serving wench on the side every now and then? Such behaviour might even be useful, as it would give them a reason to argue when the company marched. Besides, it had happened the night before, and there had been no ruse then. So why had it bothered her?

When she finally looked up, Galin was at the food. She let the silence hang, and he was the one to break it, answering her question about the men. He was trying to speak to her as before, but it wasn't coming as naturally as it did. "I can manage a shield wall," she replied. "I imagine the Academy might have taught some of your tactics, if only so we might know how to defeat them. It might take a bit of practice, but I learn quickly enough. I know they're good men; they're your men, after all. I'll do my best to get to know them. Are there any in particular I should get acquainted with first? Things I should avoid talking about? Besides the war, I mean."

When news came in of a job offer, Lugh was elated. Finally, a chance to earn some real coin, and then maybe he'd have enough. He'd been with the Company since the end of the war, after he'd escaped Ramsey's holdings. When he was a young teen, Ramsey had lead a raid his home, a village called Dun Laoghaire, and Lugh had been captured and bound to Ramsey as a thrall. At first, he'd worked in the fields, but as he grew, Ramsey thought he might be more valuable in a fight, and he'd been right; the bow came naturally to Lugh, though he was serviceable with a shield and sword, too. While Lugh managed to escape, it wasn't until he's been on a raid with Ramsey, and a young woman had been taken. Lugh had joined the company in the hopes that he'd earn enough to buy her freedom. He was close.

Adeluna was a rich kingdom, and the captain had been hired to attack a lord still loyal to one of the old king's sons. Most of the kingdom was content with their new queen, or as content as they ever would be with a lass on the throne. There was still the odd lord here and there who would prefer a prince, however, and companies like the one Lugh served were useful in crushing any possible rebellion before it reached the capital. There was always plunder to be had. Finally, it might be enough.

The captain wanted to set out the next morning, and had sent Lugh out after Galin and his woman so they could be told of the mission. Galin was new to the company, though many of the men knew him from the war. Lugh only knew him from the stories the others told at meals. A quiet man, Lugh didn't boast about past fights the way the others did, nor did he brag about the women they'd bedded, another popular topic among the men. He was an excellent scout, and the company was glad to have him, but Lugh wasn't looking for glory or advancement. He fight and he fought well, he followed orders, and otherwise kept his head down.

First, he went to see Ranulf, knowing Galin and his women were after gear for her. What sort of woman was she, that Galin would not only vouch for her, but also make sure she was properly outfitted? Ranulf was putting the final touches on a small cuirass when Lugh arrived. "Galin still here?" he asked.

"Told him and his woman to grab a pint," Ranulf replied.

Lugh nodded, and headed for the Mermaid. He found the pair at a table, talking and… why did Galin knock the table like that? Well, no concern of his. He approached the table slowly, and cleared his throat as means of announcing his presence. Whatever they were going on about, he didn't want to hear it. "Captain wants you both back at the hall," Lugh said. "Got a job, and we're setting out in the morning."

Her apology was genuine, Galin noticed, and completely out of character for the woman.  He smiled a little, a sort of pained half smile, then sighed heavily through his nose.  "It's all right," he said, and reached out across the table and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.  "I appreciate it, but part of me figures you're right.  It's best for the story not to be so careless.  And I wouldn't want to risk you like that," he finished, squeezing her hand again before withdrawing to his side of the table. 

"The lads are a good bunch, but there's a few that are less savory than others," he conceded as he thought about the men Domnall had gathered in his company.  "If I were you, I would watch my back around Sigurd and Dfyed most.  First one, Sigurd, he has a temper on him when he gets a skinful and there's a rumor he has taken more than one lass to his bed without her saying so.  Only rumor, mind, but it is enough to make me a bit jumpy.  Dfyed is less worrisome, just a thief with a very liberal definition of a man's rights to his own property.  Just watch your purse and everything else around him."  It was the sort of thing he had come to expect, sadly.  These men were both the kind he would trust in a second to stand beside him a shield wall, but it was something else to want to share a meal with them outside a fight.  But that was the sort of man that got drawn to serving as they did and not as part of a clan's levy in a crisis.  It was, he thought, the cost of forging a group of dedicated, professional warriors.

A subtle cough made Galin look up.  "Lugh, is it?  The captain's got his shift in a twist again and needs us back.  Got it."  He reached into his purse and left a few copper coins on the table to pay for their meal then downed the rest of his ale.  "Now Alyson," he said, forcing himself to remember her new name, "we've got to visit Ranulf for your kit, then back to the hall. Step lively now, eh?"  He turned back to the quiet man who brought them the summons.  "Did Domnall tell you what it is we are about to go do or is that some massive secret?"  Striding through the streets of Adeluna, the pair of Northmen and the southern woman got a few looks, mostly because the presence of armed, likely violent men from the Highlands was enough to see mother's pushing children behind their skirts and men looking for a blade.  Even after the new queen's ascension, it was a sullen sort of peace and civility that ruled the city and armed foreigners were a very clear reminder of the city's not-so-distant past.  Ranulf was his usual, charming self when the trio arrived and Galin paid out the silver for Luthene's new kit while mentally calculating how every little he would have left.  Hopefully whatever Domnall was planning would give him a chance to recoup some of what he had paid.

Back at the hall, the captain had gathered all the men and was just beginning to outline the plain for their raid.  He noticed Galin and the others arrive and nodded his head before he continued.  "Three days ride from here is a manor owned by a lord still aligned with the ousted monarch and his heirs.  Unofficially, the current monarch does not like this sort of trouble so close at hand to her capital.  So, if, for example, that manor were to be burned to the ground and looted by a bunch of filthy, uncouth northern savages, it would not trouble her little royal head.  So we, my boys, are those savages."  the men hooted and stamped their feet in the hall, echoing his words with their excitement.  "We will leave inside of a day, but not all at once.  Groups of ten or so, taking different gates out of the city, and we will rendezvous at the twelfth mile marker on the main road.  Once we are together, we move on the manor.  I will take the main force in through the village, light the damned thing up, while another group moves into the manor's fortress.

"It has two gates, one that faces the village and one that looks out over a bluff to the west.  This gate is usually left open so the families inside the fortress can go to the well at the foot of the bluff.  I will have our second group take that gate and fight their way to the main gate and open it for us.  Then we link our walls and butcher the garrison and the lord.  Now, before we leave, Alyson, there is the matter of your oath.  Usually there would be some ceremony, but we have to get ready to move, so get your scrawny southern arse up here, make it, and we can be done with this!"

"Captain said he'd explain the job back at the hall," Lugh replied as they walked back to the armorer's. A large man, Luthene noted, and his quiet demeanour made him seem even more imposing. He was hard to read, and that made her wary.

The cuirass Ranulf had ready for Luthene fit her well, but of course the smith had taken a good look at her. "Not much meat on her bones," Ranulf said, "and not much of a bosom. Barely a handful there. Didn't take much work to make lad's armour fit her. Come to think of it, Galin, have you checked to make sure she's not a lad? I could check her for you."

Luthene was relieved when Galin paid the filthy man and they left for the hall again. The sun was starting to set as they returned, and the captain— who, Luthene saw, was the same man she had fought earlier that day— was detailing the job. They were to divide into groups, travel to a manor, then loot and burn the place. Luthene's heart quickened. Finally, real work, and  it would be a good fight. Alyson might be of the duchy, but Luthene was of the kingdom, and this was also a chance to do some good for it. It also meant a chance to earn some real money, and hopefully start to pay Galin back for all his help. The kit wasn't exactly cheap, and he had done it all as a favour to her. At the very least, she owed it to him to pay back the coin he'd spent.

When he'd finished explaining the job, the captain called Alyson to take her vow, and it took Luthene a second to remember that he was calling her. She uncoupled her hand from Galin's— had she taken his hand, or had he reached for hers?— put on her helm, and picked up her shield. She approached the captain, drew her sword, then knelt as Galin had instructed her, the point of the blade in the ground. Her shield rested against hr side, and both her hands were on the handle of her weapon. The captain placed his hands around hers, and she spoke the words:

"I pledge to be your man, Domnall, in peace and war, for one year." The vow was simple, and she meant every word. The captain presented the Maker's shield, and she kissed it. He accepted her oath, and she rose.

When the men were dismissed, Luthene went to the hut to stow her gear. As she was removing the cuirass, it hit her again: she was going to be sharing this small space with Galin. It would be hard putting on a performance for the sake of the men, but inside their hut, where she would most like to be herself, she'd have to share that with Galin. Share it… or keep it hidden.

This would be their first night. A year to go.