Neda set the book on the table in front of Tierce, and was gratified to see his green eyes go wide in astonishment.
They were alone in one of the gallery rooms of Fleuracy House, sitting on either side of a long work table. Her father had been called away on council business, and Barris and Romeric were out on the lower terrace battering at each other with practice swords. As usual, Romeric was taunting Barris good-humoredly, and Barris was doing a poor job of pretending he wasn’t annoyed. Soon, he’d lose his temper and come storming inside, just like he always did.
So she didn’t have much time.
Tierce reverently touched the aged cover of the book. It was a good sized volume, with stamped leather that still showed flecks of gold leaf and filigree corner bosses that had once been gilded. In the center sat a silver medallion engraved with the image of a mounted warrior – one of the Eresti, with a pennant flapping from the tip of his lance as he cantered off to do battle with some fell beast of the Gate.
“Open it,” she urged him, and then instead of waiting she pulled open the clasps herself and laid the book open for him. Inside, an illustration of the same warrior burst from the page, brilliantly illuminated in reds, yellows and blues. Beneath the picture, in elegant calligraphy, the title read, “Delandir’s Tales of the Eresti.”
An audible sigh escaped Tierce’s lips, and his expression melted in utter delight. “Delandir! My father has looked everywhere for one of these.”
For the next few minutes, there was no sound but the rustling of parchment as he turned avidly through the book, stopping now and then to skim a bit of text, or to linger over another dazzling illustration. Neda forgot her purpose for a moment, charmed by his boyish enthusiasm. Apparently, it had been the right choice. She knew his predilection for old stories, especially those dating back to the Age of Kings, but it had cost her another candle to Evod to find her way to just the right volume to tempt him. Even then, she’d spent two days wandering through Arisholm bookshops trying to lay hands on a copy. After all that trouble, she couldn’t help but enjoy the way his wide, soft lips curled in a smile as he poured over the pages.
“This is amazing,” he said finally, dragging his attention from the book. “Sieur Eristan will love it.”
Neda shook her head, averting her gaze and hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring at him. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “It’s not for him. It’s for you.”
For the second time, his eyes widened in surprise. “For me? I couldn’t … this is too much. I can’t accept such a gift.” The words were heavy with regret and longing, which she took as a good sign, even as he pushed the book reluctantly away.
“It’s not a gift, Tierce.” She pushed the book back across the table to him. “It’s a bribe. I want you to do something for me.”
Color flushed his cheeks. “Neda, you don’t have to bribe me to do anything. All you have to do is – .”
“I want you to teach me how to fight. With a sword.” His mouth dropped open, but she barrelled onward, not giving him a chance to say no. “It’s illegal, I know. But only here in Corregal. Most of the Lands don’t care. You’re not even from here. You probably grew up knowing lots of girls who learned how to use a sword.”
“Yes, but, your father…”
“What has he got to do with it? Some of the greatest warriors in history have been women.” She flipped through the Delandir book till it showed them an illustration of an armored woman battling against two fire crawlers. She tapped the picture with her finger. “Hallanan of Deros. No one ever tried to keep a sword out of her hands. Ibra Aendri led the whole Order of Erest for twenty years. Even Daena herself, before she had to go and get her stupid self killed and ruin it for the rest of us. There’s nothing wrong with a woman knowing how to use a sword, and you know it.”
She could tell from the way he was looking at the picture of Hallanan that she’d won. There was no reasonable argument he could make to counter her. What was one pesky, antique law in the face of centuries of history?
Still, he hesitated, eyebrows drawn together as he struggled with an answer.
It was the obligation he owed her father, she assumed. The oath he’d taken to Fleuracy House. If he agreed to do this and they were discovered, it would probably mean his dismissal from the House, if not worse. Though if she knew Tierce at all he was probably more worried about how badly it would reflect on her father than worrying about his personal comeuppance.
She wished she had time to explain to her reasons to him. To make him understand her need to do this. But from the terrace, she could hear Barris’ voice rising in anger. If she didn’t get Tierce to agree now, she might never have the chance again. She could see the refusal forming on his face already – if had time to think about it further, there’d be no convincing him at all.
“If you won’t teach me,” she declared, resorting to her last desperate ploy. “I’ll have to ask Romeric, I’m sure he’ll be willing to help me. Though who knows what he’ll ask for in exchange.” She lifted her chin, tried to appear wanton in the gesture she used to smooth her hair back from her face. “They worship Aratanne there, you know. It makes them very open minded in matters of….love.”
Dismay tangled Tierce’s expression as the significance of her words sank in. She’d known he’d react like this, which is why she hadn’t wanted to use this tactic if she could avoid it. She didn’t like taking advantage of him like that…especially since she wasn’t entirely sure if was a bluff or not.
A clatter downstairs and Romeric’s bright, amused laughter from the hall alerted her that practice was over and their time alone together was up. Neda caught her breath and stared hard at Tierce, willing him to give her the answer she wanted to hear.
“All rright. I’ll do it,” Tierce said finally, keeping his voice hushed and hurried. “I don’t know how or where or when, but I’ll help you.” His brow was still knotted with concern. “Not because of the book, though.”
Relief flooded through her. She beamed at him as she rose to her feet. “I know it’s not because of the book, Tierce. It’s because you know it’s the right thing to do.”
He smiled at her weakly as she hastened past out, anxious to be gone before Romeric and Barris made their inevitable appearance and anything would need to be explained. She paused before departing though, a smile bright on her face as she turned back to him briefly.
“You can keep the book, though!”
A quick note about a name change:
The character previously known as Mariesa Fleuracy will hereafter be known as Nedalya Fleuracy, or Neda for short.
My reasons for this have to do with the changing nature of the story. When she first entered this story world, some 10 years ago, she was nothing more than remembered Object of Affection. “Mariesa” was a good enough name at the time, though I never really liked it. Now that the character has evolved into a more significant role and become a person in her own right, I felt she needed a name with more weight behind it. Ergo the change.
I’m really particular about names.
(I’ll be changing the past entries to reflect the name change in the very near future.)
And then there was art!
I coerced my teen daughter into drawing some character sketches for me and, with only a brief rundown of basic attributes, this is what she gave me:
I think she did a great job of capturing my four main characters, aside from the fact that they all look about five years too young. Romeric, especially, looks about 12 years old here. But
But it’s a start at getting some visual representation of these characters! But I think the personality conveyed in each expression is right on.