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Though there had been no sign of the Rose Guard, they decided not to linger in Hawic just in case. Gweneth could tell it made Zelda nervous anytime they passed near a city. Now that Aereth had already been preyed upon twice – first by Melvalda and again by Queen Anindel—Zelda seemed adamant that it should not happen again and was almost beside herself with her anxiety.
In the morning, they departed from Hawic, and with the city at their backs, made their way south toward Ellormest. Gweneth was excited to see her homeland again, which she had not seen since she was a fourteen-year-old girl. She missed the rolling green pastures, and the ancient statues and pillars, which dotted the country all over. Such structures had been the scenery of every early childhood memory she possessed. Her first kiss had happened in an ancient elven ruin...with Annora.
Wishing to avoid bandits and highway men, they avoided the road, instead wading on horseback through wild country, which seemed to become wilder the further south they went.
Gweneth amused herself by telling Aereth the most horrible fairytales from Ellormest she could think of and laughing softly at Zelda’s shock. Fearless little Aereth was eager for more bloody tales, but Zelda sternly forbade it, so Gweneth fell to watching the drama between her friends instead.
Calain and Selene were still bickering over the fact that Selene had dared to gift Zelda a necklace. Only, they knew Zelda would command they cease the arguing if she knew what it was really about, so they disguised their bickering by picking at each other over trivial things. The argument back at the inn, for instance, hadn’t really been about Calain’s new armor.
Gweneth had the feeling Zelda knew this as well but did not want things to escalate in front of Aereth, so she allowed the knights to vent their rage with low bickering.
Meanwhile, as Calain and Selene were distracted by their never-ending rivalry, Cassandra was falling in love with Zelda. And she was falling hard. Gweneth had known Cassandra for years and could tell.
And she felt bad for Cassandra as well. For out of all the knights, Cassandra had spent the least amount of time alone with Zelda. Now she was trying to make up for it, and the other knights – unbeknownst to Zelda – were trying to give the two space to know each other. Selene had assigned Cassandra first watch for a reason, knowing Zelda would stay up with her, and Calain had not barged in on them any time they were alone.
Zelda seemed to think her knights were always scrapping over her – and she wasn’t wrong – but they did help each other secure their place at her side as well. Back on the Atross, it wasn’t an accident that Zelda had found herself alone with Gweneth so often. The knights wanted Zelda to love and accept all of them, which meant they had to share her time and attention to allow her to know them all.
And as far as little Aereth went, the knights scrapped over her as much as they scrapped over Zelda. All of them wanted Aereth to love them the most but – for the first time possibly ever – Calain was not the favorite. Aereth loved Calain’s playfulness and admired her battle skills; she loved Cassandra’s quiet strength and often fell asleep in her arms; and she doted on Selene for being a calm, commanding presence that brought order and security to a world that no doubt baffled her – but Gweneth was undoubtedly Aereth’s favorite and had been since she was a babe in swaddling.
If Aereth wasn’t riding with Zelda, then she was riding with Gweneth on Bron, and everywhere Gweneth went, Aereth was two feet behind, squeaking questions at her and hopping to keep up, until the knights had nicknamed her Gwen’s Shadow.
Gweneth loved Aereth like a daughter, and as she held the girl while she was sleeping, she thought with a laugh that she would never have pictured her life this way. She had watched the other women in her caravan wed and have children and spend their time feeding and changing swaddling, and she had looked upon their sweet femininity and had decided she could never be a proper mother because she was so masculine. But now here she was . . .a parent. And a damn good one, she thought.
The closer they drew to Ellormest, the more Gweneth thought of taking the group to meet her parents. She wanted to proudly present them and say, “Look what I’ve become! This is my life! Are you not proud?” and beam with pride. For she was a knight in service to a powerful sorceress, one of the highest callings a woman could achieve!
But Gweneth knew her father would not approve of her becoming a rebel. Sune had met Calain once during Gweneth’s visit when she was fourteen, and he had despised Calain ever since, declaring her a bad influence on his daughter. He would not approve of Gweneth allowing herself to become involved in Calain’s misdeeds.
And as for Gweneth’s mother, Kare, she had never approved of Gweneth becoming a knight and would try – yet again – to coax her daughter into staying with the caravan and marrying one of the women there. She had tried several times during Gweneth’s last visit, which had only further prompted her to leave after everything with Annora.
They made camp in a copse at midday and took their noon meal around a low fire. Afterwards, Zelda and the knights rested and the horses grazed nearby as Gweneth gave Aereth her first sparring lesson.
The girl was a quick study, Gweneth thought. She paid close attention to everything and learned very fast. It wasn’t long before she had disarmed Gweneth, who lifted her brows in pleasant surprise as she snatched her blade from the grass. Her fingers were bleeding from the blow: the child had drawn her first blood! Gweneth was bursting with pride but concealed it with her usual casual air.
“Did you see what I did, Mother!” Aereth squealed, leaping up and down. “I smacked it right outta her hand!”
“Yes, I saw, little bear!” called Zelda lovingly, and Aereth beamed with pride, sticking out her chest. Though Gweneth thought Zelda looked a little worried.
“Gweneth is shite with a sword, not much of an achievement!” shouted Calain, whose hand was playfully smacked by Zelda for swearing in front of the child.
Aereth shrieked with giggles.
Gweneth smirked, twirling her sword with a loose wrist. “Put your blade behind those words!” she challenged.
Calain lurched up, grinning.
“Oh, for the love of . . .” muttered Selene, who was sitting between Zelda and Cassandra as she drank water from her skin.
Breathless and eager, Aereth tumbled into Zelda’s lap and watched with her mouth open as Gweneth and Calain sparred.
Calain was the best of them and always had been, but she had her flaws like anyone else, and anyone who had trained alongside her for years would have marked them by now. Their blades crossed in the sunlight as Gweneth managed to parry every playfully vicious blow bigger, stronger Calain brought down on her. Any random enemy who didn’t know Calain would have been defeated easily in that moment, but Gweneth predicted Cailan’s next move and disarmed her.
Selene and Cassandra playfully cheered, and Aereth clapped her hands, delighted by the knights and their frolicsome mood.
“Tis easy to disarm Calain,” dismissed Selene with a laugh. “I know from experience!”
More laughter, to which Calain massaged her wrist, looking a bit peeved.
“You shall always be the best, my knight!” Zelda called.
Calain smiled with soft eyes at Zelda and bowed.
“Now I shall spar with Calain!” shouted Aereth, springing up with her sword. “Come, Calain! Teach me that thing you did! Pleeeeease?”
“All right, little one,” laughed Calain, going into fight stance. “No, place thy feet a little wider . . . That’s it . . .”
Gweneth joined the others, taking Calain’s vacated seat beside Zelda in the flattened grass. Her hand was still bleeding from Aereth’s blow, and Zelda tisked as she took Gweneth’s hand and healed it, her eyes glowing momentarily with power.
“My thanks, my lady,” Gweneth said breathlessly. She flexed her newly healed hand, then slid her gauntlet on, which she had not been wearing while training Aereth.
“She cut you with the strength of a woman grown,” said Zelda in an appalled undertone, so that Aereth could not hear. “Why is she so wildly strong? And why art thou not more disturbed?”
Gweneth laughed dismissively. “I keep telling thee: Aereth is a Wilde Woman! Tis normal that she should have great strength and wish to slay things! One day she shall be a mighty warrior, and woe to any fool that doth stand in her way!”
“You should be proud and worry not,” added Selene. “Aereth shall never be the prey of men.”
Gweneth laughed softly, thinking it ironic that Selene of all people should tell someone not to worry.
“I shall feel about this as I please!” cried Zelda. “Aereth is a Wilde Woman without a clan. She hath no place in the world.”
“Her place is with us,” said Cassandra.
“And when she is grown? What shall she do? Where shall she go?” said Zelda pointedly. “She doesn’t even have other children to play with. I have brought a child into the world who is doomed to live on the outskirts of society!” She fell silent, staring at Aereth miserably, and she did not see the soft-eyed look Selene gave her.
Selene slid her arm around Zelda, kissed her on the cheek, and said soothingly, “We shall figure it out together. Aereth shall not be punished because we are enemies of Eriallon. This I promise you.”
Zelda looked fondly at Selene and kissed the knight slowly on the lips, though when she looked up again, her sad eyes were still on Aereth, who was laughing as she sparred with Calain.
As it turned out, Aereth was paying more attention to Zelda and the knights than they had guessed, for she burst out over supper, “Is Selene my father?”
Everyone went still around the fire. Aereth was glaring at them all, daring them not to answer her. She had been after the subject since Dark Bloom, and Zelda had always responded vaguely, while the knights – wishing to respect Zelda’s wishes – hadn’t responded at all, often changing the subject should Aereth bring it up.
But now, instead of asking, Aereth was demanding an answer. Her shrill voice had cut through their merry banter like a knife.
“Why Selene?” asked Calain, making a face that – thankfully – made Aereth giggle.
“Because she was kissing Mother earlier,” said Aereth, “and they looked happy.” Her eyes danced thoughtfully over Calain. “I hoped it was you for a while,” she said to Calain, “because Mother loves you best, and you’re the strongest and a proper warrior!”
Calain liked that and gave Selene a mocking glance across the fire. Selene returned an annoyed glare.
“Is it Gweneth?” Aereth asked Zelda eagerly. “I hope it’s Gweneth!”
Gweneth laughed softly.
Zelda frowned. “Why do you think your father’s a woman? That’s not how it works, my little.”
“But that’s how I was born!” Aereth insisted stubbornly. “I’ve heard you all speaking of a magick potion, and you’ve called my other parent a woman! I’ve heard you!”
The knights looked with concern at Zelda, who was frozen on the spot.
Aereth made a face. “I knew you wouldn’t tell me!” she accused and sprang up, fleeing into the tall grass on skinny legs.
“Aereth!” Zelda called helplessly.
Gweneth sighed, setting aside her bread. “I shall go after her,” she said wearily.
“Let Cassandra or I go,” protested Zelda. “We can follow her essence.”
Gweneth only laughed. “One doesn’t need magick to predict the whims of a child. I shall find her, my lady,” she promised and marched off into the dark.
***
BECAUSE THEIR PARTY typically followed a wisp-light cast by Zelda or Cassandra, it had been a long time since Gweneth had had to light her torch. But she also couldn’t pretend it wasn’t difficult to see in the dark without magick. Night had fallen as they were eating supper, and the fields scattered throughout the wild country would have been pitch dark if not for the large moon in the sky.
It wasn’t hard to find Aereth regardless. Gweneth walked toward the nearest tree, held the torch aloft, and wasn’t surprised when its light flickered over a small boot. Gweneth’s heart softened when she heard crying.
“Why dost thou weep?” Gweneth asked gently.
“M-Mother won’t tell me who my father is. I think she’s ashamed of her!”
“No, not ashamed,” answered Gweneth. “More like ashamed of the circumstances surrounding your birth. She was tricked into the marriage – not by thy father, but by someone who wished them to wed. Your father suffered the most as a result of the union, and your mother lives in guilt because of it.”
Aereth’s sobs quieted, and Gweneth knew the child was relieved that someone had finally spoken to her directly and honestly, rather than trying to coddle her and protect her.
“Now come down,” said Gweneth. “Tis dangerous to run off alone. We draw near Sirione Forest. Tis the largest forest in my homeland, even larger than Edhen, and there are many trolls about, even on the outskirts.”
Aereth scrambled down from the tree, still sniffling a little. But she was distracted by the talk of trolls. “Truly?” she said eagerly as she was hefted onto Gweneth’s hip.
“Aye. Not that you’d need help slaying them,” Gweneth returned with a laugh, “but tis best you don’t wonder off.” She hefted Aereth higher. “By the gods. How old are you today? Twelve?”
Aereth giggled, but it was true she had grown yet again.
They returned to camp, and a distraught Zelda scrambled to her feet and closed Aereth in a hug, scolding her for having run off.
“Can Gweneth be my father?” Aereth asked.
Zelda laughed, pulling back to look at the child. “The knights are all thy father,” she said. “And now tis bedtime.” She looked in Aereth’s eyes, and her blue eyes crinkled up in a kind smile. Aereth smiled back, and Gweneth noticed in quiet amusement that she had Zelda’s exact smile.