Post 3

Veyga pounded Mik on the back not three days later. "Congratulations, Mik!"

The big bear of a man was grinning from ear to ear, proud as could be. "Thank you."

Little Lissana had been born in the pale beginning of the morning, and Eithna still couldn't decide who had been more concerned and who had paced the most, Mik or Veyga. Even now, Veyga was receiving as many shouts and waves of goodwill as Mik. Eithna smiled, pushing her hair from her face with a weary hand. The labor had been difficult, but both mother and baby had come through just fine. Both were catching up on some much-needed sleep. While Eithna should be in her own borrowed bed, she wasn't quite ready to meet oblivion. She motioned to Veyga, and he nodded and followed her through Ragged Valley to her tiny guest cottage. She waved to the little table and chairs inside the door, and he sat down warily.

Eithna laughed. "You don't have anything to worry about, you aren't in trouble. I just wanted to start making plans."

He smiled weakly. He'd been making an effort to seem happy around her, but she knew there was something else. At least the tension between them had dissipated over the last few days, and she was pretty sure his broken heart was on the mend. While she would always have a soft spot for him, it was for the best. If Veyga had claimed her before she married Jared, she would have gone anywhere with him in a heartbeat. But she was happy with Jared. While their marriage wasn't a passionate one, it was certainly based on a deep and abiding friendship, which she valued.

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Veyga sat before a fire near his cottage, absently shredding the bark from a stick, gaze staring unwaveringly into the flames. Eithna stood in the shadows watching him, her mind flashing back momentarily to four summers earlier when she had watched him telling stories to children. Her heart gave a little pang and she sighed.

She and Kayli had been able to talk Veyga into returning with her and taking a place in her father's court for a fortnight. If she was able to manage it, she would convince him to stay longer. While his manners were not completely without merit, considering the lessons he had undertaken from the teachers here in Ragged Valley, she doubted he was really prepared for the intricacies and intrigue that the High Court would expose him to.

She sighed, pulled herself together, and approached him. He looked up, silver eye sharpening as he saw her. She forced a smile and folded her legs beneath her across the fire from him. He stared soberly at her for a moment before looking away. "I hear the plan is to leave in the morning."

She nodded, and then realized he wouldn't see the gesture. "Yes. Kayli is doing excellent as a new mama, and doesn't need me anymore. Lissana is doing well. There’s nothing more to keep me here, and I do have patients back home to tend to." He nodded, making no response. She bit her lip, considering him carefully, before taking a deep breath. "I think we should tell everyone that you are a cousin of Jared's. He'll go along with it, to be sure, and little is known about his family. They are noble born, but rather impoverished at this point, so they don't often travel in the courtly circles."

He shrugged. "If your husband is all right with that, then that's fine."

"Are you comfortable with it, though?"

Veyga just shrugged again. Eithna frowned and resisted the urge to lean over and shake him. He seemed withdrawn. Kayli had said that it was just how he was, that he was always like that, but Eithna had been studying him closely over the last few days. There were rare moments when his potential shone through the quiet demeanor, and she was pretty positive that it wasn’t always in his nature to be so reserved.

Eithna wondered briefly if she were playing with fire, then steeled herself against pity and decided to stick with her well-thought-out plan. She was hoping fervently that Jared would agree with her and support her decision. He usually did support whatever she came up with, no matter how harebrained some of her ideas were. But she simply knew she was right this time.

“Well then, in a few days you’ll have a chance to meet Jared, and then we can get to work on polishing you up, right?”

He met her eyes briefly, and then returned his stare back to the fire. “I suppose so.”

She pushed herself to her feet with a lighter heart, confident that she was doing the right thing, whether Veyga wanted it or not.

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Veyga studied the manor that sat on the hill before them. All that was left was to pass through the valley and the clusters of villages that populated it, and then Eithna would be home with her husband. Veyga drew a deep breath, and then he nudged his mount and started down the hill into the valley.

The riders were all quiet, taking their mood from him; even Eithna was without her usual sunny smile. Two men accompanied them acting as Veyga’s men at arms. As they approached the small city surrounding the huge Wensellas family manor, Veyga looked down the main street to the manor gates, and dreaded these last moments of relative peace.

Eithna glanced towards him, reining her mount in. “Are you ready for this?”

A strange look crossed his face. "Of course not. I don't belong in a manor, behind such tall gates. I was born a peasant, never to be anything more."

Eithna laughed, drawing a dark look from him. "Veyga, you already are more. Now come, let's go meet my father and Jared."

Veyga, feeling uneasy, turned his horse to go down the street and toward the gates. When they stood before them, he followed her lead and dismounted to stand beside her. Eithna caught his hand, and frowned when he seemed to flinch. The strange look was back on his face. "Veyga? What is wrong?"

“Nothing. It’s nothing, Lady. Come, let’s wake the guards and return you to your family.” He couldn’t force himself to meet her gaze. He felt a tremble in his hands when he used the heavy metal knocker set in the solid wooden door that sat to one side of the gate. Feeling weak and stupid, he stayed silent as Eithna stated her identity and as a gangly steward led them across a large cobbled courtyard, down a maze of hallways, and to a small appointment room. While waiting for her father, he could not face her directly. He paced behind a table, his hands clasped in the small of his back. He felt her eyes on him, and there was nowhere to escape from her frustrated gaze. The two Ragged Valley men that had accompanied them stood to the side, silent. Hearing footsteps, he stopped his pacing and stiffened, spinning about to face the doorway. Eithna followed his gaze, and jumped to her feet as well.

“Daddy!” She threw herself into her father’s welcoming arms.

Veyga watched as Lord Wensellas clasped his daughter close, then his heartbeat sped as Lord Wensellas turned to face him, not releasing Eithna, but hugging her closer. “Eithna sent word ahead that you are one of Jared’s cousins, is that correct?”

Veyga hesitated, torn between honesty and protecting himself. “Yes. I hope this visit isn’t an imposition.”

Eithna’s father eyed Veyga closely, a strange light in his green eyes. He was a well-built man, with a trim figure and blond hair sprinkled generously with gray. He looked fit for his age, and Veyga had no doubt that the man could obviously be intimidating when the need arose. Now, however, his look was warm. “Of course it isn’t.” He held out his hand, palm up.

Veyga hesitated before clasping the man’s wrist in greeting. He felt the man’s strong fingers curl over his own wrist. “My name is Arius.” Veyga felt Eithna’s curious gaze weighing on him at his answer. His gut clenched, hating another half-truth, but he knew it was best not to use an infamous name that was so well known. It would be putting not only himself, but also Ragged Valley, at risk.

“Well then, Arius, Eithna, supper is starting soon. Why don’t you freshen up, and we can visit while we eat? Jared should be back sometime tonight from his rounds. Arius, I’ll have the steward show your soldiers to the bunkhouse.”

Eithna was grinning from ear to ear. “Of course, Daddy.”

Lord Wensellas nodded as a steward entered the room and cleared his throat.

“My Lord, I took the liberty of having hot baths drawn up for the Lady Eithna and our guest. Supper will be served in two marks.” He clapped his hands loudly, and two servants entered the room, each one leading a tired, dirty, and worn traveler away from a thoughtful-looking Lord Wensellas.

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Veyga relaxed in the hot, fragrant water, closing his eyes and allowing his tired muscles to go slack. He envisioned in his mind what Eithna was doing at this very moment, how her long strawberry hair would be covering her and floating about her pale body, hiding her from his mind’s eye. He felt his body react to his imagination, and didn’t force himself to stop. No one need know of his passion for this incredible woman he was forbidden to touch. A heavy sigh rent from some place buried deep within him.

Veyga’s heartbeat gradually slowed, and his breath grew deep and steady as he drifted towards sleep. Sometime later he woke, not sure what had startled him from sleep. He felt the scrubbing cloth he’d been using brush against his chest, and he opened his eye.

He nearly tipped the tub in his scramble to fully waken and find his knife. He stood before the fire that a servant had lit, his chest heaving and water running from his body in thin rivulets. He faced the young woman that held the scrubbing cloth with a gleaming silver eye, knife held before him. “Who in the seven hells are you?”

The young woman rose in one smooth, fluid motion from where she had been knocked to the floor in his haste to leap from the tub. “I’m Sarena. I’m here to tend to your every need.” She was small and slim, dressed in a pale blue gown that accentuated her bright blue eyes. She licked full red lips and reached up to smooth her long straight black hair. Her gaze was brazen as her appreciative eyes roved over Veyga’s slick chest, hard with muscle and wrapped with ink. Her bold stare roamed over his even facial features, pausing only momentarily at the eye patch. When she dipped her gaze lower, her cat-like smile widened.

Veyga’s eye narrowed as he stood there, disbelieving. “Why do I not doubt that?”

She took two full steps towards him, her every movement calculated to whet a man’s appetite. “Mm. Well, what needs would you like attended to?”

“None thank you all the same.”

“Oh, but don’t you need clothing, so that you might dine with my Lord Wensellas?” She motioned towards his travel-stained garments, piled on the floor near the tub. An outfit not fit for an ale room, much less breaking his fast with Lord Wensellas.

The woman’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Clothing, your bath, dressing, I can help with all of that. But in return, I want a little of what you have to offer.” She glided forward a few more steps, the vision of him outlined by flames acting as a beacon to her.

Veyga’s body was taut, and his mind spun, searching for a quick way out of the predicament. “I don’t think so.”

She reached up and untied the front of her dress, revealing the deep cleft between two full breasts. “Don’t you?” Her full lips turned down in a sultry pout as she moved closer. Veyga began to creep to his left, moving towards the bed. Her eyes gleamed as she approached, and his eye narrowed. He felt like a mouse being stalked by a cat.

Suddenly, the door to his room flew open and Eithna rushed in, her arms laden with a bulky bundle. She stopped abruptly upon seeing the young woman with her dress untied. “Sarena! What-” Her eyes flew briefly to Veyga, where he stood bare but with a knife held before him. She jerked her gaze away from him, frowning darkly as she glared at the intruder. “Out, Sarena. Out now!”

Sarena hastily retied her ribbon and rushed from the room. A dark flush spread across Veyga’s face, neck, and chest as he grabbed a pillow from the bed to hide his nudity. “Lady Eithna.”

Eithna closed the door after placing her bundle on a nearby chair. She took a deep breath, careful to avert her eyes from his flushed form. “I am so sorry, Veyga. I should have warned you about-. Well, about her.” He said nothing, only stood holding the pillow in one hand and the knife in the other. His flush darkened. She suddenly began to bustle about, shaking clothing out onto the bed. “These are for you. I hope they fit. Well-” She paused, glancing down at her heavy bed robe and briefly touching her damp hair. “Well, I had better go and get dressed myself. I will send Father’s valet to help you."

He only nodded. His knuckles were white where he gripped the pillow. She nodded curtly and spun on her heel, walking swiftly to the door. She paused only once. “Beware Sarena, Veyga. She is worse than she seems.” And then she was gone, closing the door quietly behind her.

Veyga dropped the pillow and leaned back against the wall beside the bed. “I highly doubt that. She seems as dangerous as anything I have ever seen.”

The valet arrived shortly thereafter and began to help Veyga to dress for his first formal event. It was strange to have someone help him dress, and even stranger to have a man dressing his long hair. Once the man deemed him ready, Veyga followed the aloof man, uncertain for the first time in ages. He tugged on the hem of his hip-length vest, glancing down at the form fitting hose with a heavy swallow. He tugged again at the hem, trying to pull the vest lower than it would go. The valet paused at the entrance to the dining hall, glancing briefly at Veyga and giving him a small, encouraging smile.

The page guarding the doorway smiled as well, probably sensing Veyga’s discomfort. Then he turned and announced Veyga’s arrival. “Master Arius...” He paused, since there was no surname or title to go with Arius, and then shrugged. He motioned for Veyga to enter the room.

Veyga took a deep, calming breath, touching his eye patch briefly before straightening his shoulders and entering the room with his head held high. He heard Eithna’s gasp from where she sat beside her father, and Veyga saw Lord Wensellas glance curiously at her. Then Lord Wensellas fastened his own gaze upon Veyga, and his eyebrows rose.

Veyga was now a far cry different from the dirty, bedraggled young man that had arrived early that morning. He stood tall and proud, with his long hair braided down his back and his face freshly shaven. His white shirt darkened his skin, his royal blue vest reflected his silver eye, and his snug gray hose defined every line and muscle in his powerful legs. His eye patch gleamed briefly as he scanned the crowd with an aloof gaze, even though his heart was racing. He could have been a prince and no one would have been surprised. But in his heart he felt like a liar. He strained not to show his discomfort. He looked about the room casually, taking in the full tables that formed a "U" shape along three walls of the room. Along the third wall was a dais with a table set up upon it, and this was where Eithna and her father were seated. When his eye rested again on the Lady Eithna, his gaze softened.

She was every inch a fine lady now, with her long red strawberry hair swept up into an intricate tangle of braids, and with her flattering cream and pale-green gown. She was a different looking woman now, and he felt as if he were mud on her slippers even as he stood the center of attention.

Lord Wensellas stood and motioned for Veyga to take the seat to his left. He hesitated for only a moment before walking over and stepping up onto the dais. He sat down and Lord Wensellas sat as well. The Lord called forward the meal.

Veyga watched in stark amazement as dish after dish was brought in. This mountain of food could feed his entire camp for a full turn of the seasons. A servant stepped forward and began to fill Veyga’s trencher with choice pieces of cold meat and poached eggs. Lord Wensellas leaned towards Veyga. “Well come, Arius. I hope that this meal suits you.”

Veyga only stared mutely at his trencher. After a long moment of silence, he nodded. “Of course, my Lord.” A strange feeling seemed to be creeping over him, like a wash of heat that had his heart beating faster.

Lord Wensellas sat back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. “How many summers have you seen, Arius?”

Veyga’s brow furrowed as he thought. “I suppose a score and two, or a score and three.”

“Were you raised with Jared?”

Veyga hesitated for only a moment. “No, I wasn’t. We hardly know each other. Our fathers were actually cousins, which makes us… second cousins, I believe.” He stated the rehearsed story by rote, refusing to meet Lord Wensellas’ gaze.

“Where are you from then?”

Veyga glanced towards Eithna. “I was raised in the same town as Jared, but we didn’t really associate with each other. There was some sort of family argument that tore the family apart. Jared and I are seeking to mend that rift.”

“Well you’ll have to wait another day, I’m afraid- word has reached us that Jared has been detained.”

Veyga just nodded mutely. Lord Wensellas nodded and turned to Eithna, asking about the patient she had left to tend. Veyga noticed that she carefully avoided all mention of where that patient had been. He pushed the food around on his plate restlessly, unable to settle the churning in his stomach.

Finally the meal was over and Veyga was able to escape to his room in relative peace. He stripped off the fine clothing and was asleep almost before his head hit the satin-covered pillow.

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Lord Wensellas watched from the alcove as the young man who had accompanied his daughter home practiced sword work with his two strange men at arms. The young man was dressed in plain homespun clothing, a far cry from the bright colors Eithna had chosen to dress him in last night. His long hair was pulled back and tied with a strip of leather, and while his weapon looked finely honed, it was also well-worn.

The young man moved like a master. Lord Wensellas was a fine fighter himself, but even his skills would come nowhere near matching those of their visitor. The two men at arms came at Arius together, and neither was able to land a blow anywhere near him.

He watched silently for nearly an entire mark before turning to search out his daughter. She was in her garden, as he’d expected. However, he was surprised to see Jared with her. “You’ve returned, I see. How went your rounds?”

Jared grinned from the shady spot he’d claimed beneath one of Eithna’s fruit trees, sprawled on his back, hands clasped behind his head. “Well, actually… Other than a stray dog that seems to be making off with some lambs, there was nothing to report. I’ve sent off a few trackers to flush it out.”

Lord Wensellas nodded and perched on the edge of a nearby bench. Eithna watched him warily, and the suspicions that were floating through his head solidified. He gave her a mild look. “Now, would you care to tell me the truth about this supposed cousin of Jared’s my dear?”

Jared sat up abruptly, his casual demeanor completely gone. Eithna swallowed hard and met her husband’s startled stare before turning to her father. “Only if you promise me that you won’t hold it against either Jared or… Arius. The entire plan was my own idea.”

He nodded soberly, and sat back on the bench in shock as she told her tale. When she was finished, she was flushed, but at least she looked a lot less guilty than she had. “So this young man represents the infamous Veyga, murderer and rapist?”

She sputtered. “Not at all! First of all, he represents Ragged Valley and its inhabitants, not just a man. And those are just stories, Daddy. Veyga isn’t really like that; he’s a very fine man. As a matter of fact…” A wondering look crossed her face. “As a matter of fact, Daddy, he’s a lot like you. He cares very much for his village and the people who live under his care. And while I will admit that there are criminals aplenty that he is protecting, they are all to a single man innocent of any actual wrongdoings. Most have failed to pay taxes or turn their daughters over to certain landowners. Lord Beys, for example.”

Jared turned his head and spat, but gathered Eithna’s hand in his for support.

“Not a single person there was from your lands, for example, Daddy. Every person is expected to carry their own weight, and to contribute. No crime is allowed in Ragged Valley. I know that the High Lord would like to see Ragged Valley come under his control; but I doubt that will happen if Veyga’s name is not cleared. His people will fight for him, most likely to the death. I am not exaggerating here, Daddy. If you don’t believe me, then you’ll just have to go visit for yourself.”

“Now, now, Eithna, I’ve said not a word about not believing you. I’ll take your advice under consideration, and I’ll meet with this Arius to make my own judgments.”

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Veyga’s appetite had fled yet again. The food smelled wonderful, and was seasoned masterfully, but he simply couldn’t force anything past his taut throat. The flavors blended into ash on his tongue. Finally he excused himself quietly and left the table, not realizing how much attention his calm departure had garnered.

Veyga slipped away and escaped to the stables, finally able to breathe deep as he left the gossiping nobles behind. He wasn’t sure how Eithna expected him to survive in the High Court if he couldn’t even handle the supposedly relaxed Court of her father. He slipped unnoticed past several stable hands working to clean stalls, and ducked into a shadowy corner. He dropped limply onto a bale of hay, willing all the overwhelming emotions to leave him in temporary peace.

Veyga sat with a dejected expression and his shoulders slumped. When he heard the steps of Lord Wensellas approach him, he didn’t bother to look up. At a single word from the Lord, the stable hands scattered. Wensellas sat down on the bale of hay beside the younger man. He copied Veyga’s posture, dropping his hands down between his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. They sat together for a long span of moments, and then Lord Wensellas sighed deeply. “I sense something is troubling you, young man.”

Veyga simply shrugged, and the Lord tried again. “Do you care to talk about it? I’m well known to be able to hold my tongue and keep a confidence.”

“I am sorry, my Lord, but I do not belong here.”

“Hm.” Lord Wensellas nodded, and then fell silent again. He waited for Veyga to speak. Several stuttering heartbeats passed before Veyga dared to tell the story he had never spoken aloud.

“I suppose that I am just overwhelmed by everything. I do not fit in with a place such as this. I have a confession to make, and I hope that you do not hold my sins against your daughter and her husband. I am not a cousin to that man; as a matter of fact we had not met before tonight. I was not born a nobleman of any sort. My mother was a barmaid that couldn’t keep work, and she used her body to keep us fed. I’m a bastard, I have never had a father, and there was never any way to know who it might have been anyhow. We never stayed in one place very long, and I have no roots to speak of.” He took a deep breath.

Wensellas turned his head to cast a sideways glance towards Veyga. “Might I ask you a question, Arius?”

Veyga hesitated, and then nodded, his gaze still on his dangling hands.

“How is it that you speak so well? You say you were raised in mean situations, and yet you speak finer than many a gentleman.”

Veyga sighed deeply. “Well, sir, when I was younger, my mother had a man that... kept her for quite some time. I was probably six or seven summers old by then, old enough to help my mother in the kitchens. The man pulled me aside one evening, and out of what I assume was kindness he told me that he would teach me to read. We were only there, in that fine house that we cleaned each day, for the span of one winter, but each long evening was spent in the library, with me poring over books as I painstakingly learned to read. When we left, I was addicted to books. I did every odd chore I could to earn a few extra coins. I saved and saved until finally I was able to buy my own book. It was a tattered copy of Sertes’ ‘Bramble Rose.’ I read the book many times before it became too fragile to read any more. I began anew to save coins, and soon I had a few more books to tote around with me when my mother and I moved from place to place. I had too many after awhile, I suppose. It became difficult to take them everywhere with me. My mother thought that I was wasting my time.

“But then the war broke out.” Veyga was silent for long moments, and Lord Wensellas spoke up.

“The Ikraden War?” His brow furrowed. Veyga nodded, and Lord Wensellas frowned darkly. “You couldn’t have been more than eight summers old.”

Veyga nodded. “Eight summers. The war broke out, and my mother decided to become a camp follower.” His voice turned bitter. “I spent each night foraging for food and fending off rats while my mother spent her time with the enlisted of the ranks. She never even cared which side she was sleeping with, as long as she got her coin. I was to all extents abandoned.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Then I began to overhear the enlisted complaining that they had received letters from home, or from their officers, or from friends in other camps, and many of them could not read. As you probably know, there is usually a priest that will write letters for a coin or two so that families can keep in touch. But there are no priests in war. I got it into my head to do just as the priests did, and I began to read letters for a small sum.

“Word quickly spread of my talents. I had a good voice, I had a good eye for handwriting, and I could usually explain some of the priests’ more confusing phrases to the enlisted that I read for. Soon I was spending every night reading. I didn’t always collect coins; sometimes it was food or shelter for a night, and even once a chicken. A beautiful chicken that laid me a fresh egg every morning. I gathered enough odds and ends uniform pieces and old cloaks until I could make myself my own small tent, and I followed the troops as dutifully as my mother. I was able to live like that for quite a few summers, all through the war. When the treaty was finally signed, I was known by officers as well as by enlisted. However, after the treaty, I had nowhere to go and nowhere to turn. My mother once again found a man to keep her, and with nowhere else to live, she took me in. One night, however, horrible noises woke me. I ran downstairs to find that the manor where we were staying was under siege by strange warriors on huge horses. As I was trying to escape, the Lord of the manor, the man that was keeping my mother, grabbed me and pulled me before him, just in time to catch a weapon in the chest. After that, I don't remember much. I woke a sennight later in the hospice of a druidic abbey. I don’t know how I got there, but the druids took me in out of sympathy for my plight. I couldn't return to my mother. She had been killed, and I was not going to ask the Lord of the manor for any assistance. In between cleaning the tiny rooms and cramped quarters of the abbey, I spent my time in the library reading books. Of course, by this time my vocabulary was quite extensive. One of the druids caught me one night sneaking into the library to return a book I had borrowed without permission. He took me to the Druid Clan Council, and when it was discovered that I could read, and indeed did so voraciously, the druids decided to take me under their wing. As long as I continued to do my chores, they taught me to write, and then they went on to teach me the old languages and the language of the Krangs. When I was ten and four summers, the Clan was attacked, and the whole place was burned down to the ground." He met Lord Wensellas’ intent gaze. “I nearly died. But I managed somehow to live. There is not much else to tell.”

Lord Wensellas’ eyes narrowed slightly. “Half a score of summers unaccounted for. What have you been doing lately, Arius?”

Veyga hesitated, torn between honesty and self-protection. “I have been teaching others to read, peasants like myself, that had no control over their birth, and that did not want to be born into their poor situations.” At least it was halfway to the truth. “I wanted to help others to become better people and to be able to do more than scratch out a living in some backwoods hovel.”

Lord Wensellas’ face had paled, and his eyes were mere slits by now. He stared so intensely at Veyga that the younger man wanted to squirm like a schoolboy. “Arius, your story is so incredible that I cannot help but believe it. You are an amazing young man. In comparison, my own life has been tame and easy."

“I doubt that, my Lord. Eithna has spoken highly of you, and of your struggles to maintain peace within your holdings. I know there are…” He had to pause a moment to wipe a snarl from his face. “I know there are other Lords who do not share your sense of fairness.”

Lord Wensellas nodded. “You are too right, Arius.” He paused for a moment. “I have my own confession to make, Arius. I knew you weren’t Jared’s cousin, and I appreciate your admission. May I be frank with you?”

Veyga cast him a sidelong glance simmering with suspicion, but nodded.

“My daughter obviously cares what happens to you, and she worked hard to bring you here for a reason, am I correct, Arius?” It wasn’t an accident that he placed stress on the name, and Arius nodded again as he met that knowing look. Lord Wensellas reached out to place a firm hand on Veyga’s knee. “Then let’s make sure all of her work doesn’t go unrewarded. Tell me what you need, and if it is within my power, I will do what I can to help. I trust my daughter’s instincts, and I also trust her judgment, so you have that going for you.” He pulled his hand back, certain that he had made his point.

Veyga took a deep breath, and then chuckled softly. “I need a little polish, is all? I doubt I will ever be able to stay afloat of the gossip and intrigue that is such a part of any Court, but I can at least understand the intricacies and particulars. Will you find someone to help me, someone that can teach me what every noble child learns from birth? I’m afraid it may be a long assignment.”

Lord Wensellas grinned. “I know just the person. I’ll make some inquiries, and send for you once I have.” He stood and dusted himself off, then reached down to offer his hand. Veyga once again clasped the Lord’s wrist, and with a lighter heart he let the man pull him to his feet.

“My Lord, thank you.” He met Lord Wensellas’ gaze squarely. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“Just don’t let my daughter down, Arius. Live up to the potential that she sees within you.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the stables. Veyga ducked out as well, and went to seek out his men for more sword-work.

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4/16/11- updated