Spies and Knives

Nat raced off after Varrelle. She was very fast. Nat's mind went over all he knew about her. Not much. She had been in the forest at the vilage Lothan and he knew little more than that somehow she had helped him recover. The problem was that she clammed up or changed the subject whenever he tried to ask about her family and past but seemed to want to know everything about Dyl and himself. She also popped up in the oddest placest sometimes. He might be practicing his sword forms and she would go walking by or working on his hand fighting and notice her off in the distance working on some task as quartermaster. Usually at this point Dyl would trounce him which was always really annoying cause she always appeared and seemed to be watching everywhere especially if he needed to concentrate. Very unnerving. Now she was trying to meet an old lady who she apparently didn't know but who seemed to be quite familiar with her. They arrived in camp and Nat and Dyl immediately set about washing the dishes with Varrelle as they discussed the latest rumors. Finally Nat couldn't stand it anymore. He had to learn something. At least how she had saved him and how he could properly thank her.
"How did you save me, Varrelle?"
Varrelle tensed and Nat felt a sudden caution from her. "I used my herbs and mixed some catspaw with slugbane and applied it to your wounds," she replied slowly. "Together they stop bleeding and increase the speed of healing."
"I was better instantly! Herbs don't heal that fast. Even I know that much about them," Nat pointed out. By the look on Varrelle's face Nat guessed it meant he would get no more out of her. "Well I just wanted to thank you for whatever you did. I would be dead and pushing up daisies right now if not for you," Nat said resignedly. She was as close mouthed as a clam and refused to let anyone get to know who she really was. It was so frustrating and disturbing. "If you ever have need of assistance or require any form of aid, feel free to ask it of me. It is the least I can do since you have helped me so much." Nat wondered if he was in the right trusting this lady with his aid but his dear old Mother wouldn't appreciate it if he didn't thank the lady who saved his life. Finishing the dishes Nat and Dyl left Varrelle and began returning to their tents as they promptly began discussing the old lady.
"I am worried about Varrelle, Nat," Dyl stated as soon as they were out of ear shot. "She is always so guarded and seems to be nice and open until you ask anything about her. Then she clams up as if there is some terrible secret that even she doesn't want to acknowledge."
"Well apparently she doesn't want our help since she won't even talk to us about it," Nat muttered barely loud enough for Dyl to hear.
"I am not so sure. Why else would she be following us around? I mean it is not normal," Dyl said in a thoughtful voice. "Maybe she is a spy."
"A spy! That is ridiculous! How could she be a spy!" Nat exclaimed. He thought about it a bit more and began to agree though.
"Well she never tells us much of anything about herself and she is always following us almost. Not quite seeming to but don't you think all those encounters are just a bit too often to be accidents?"
"Well if she is a spy then she must be working for someone...maybe we should start watching her more closely and see if we can't get to the bottom of this. We should also tell the Lieutenant," Nat stated.
"Nah we can't tell the Lieutenant until we are sure about it though," Dyl pointed out.
"But if she is a spy why did she save my life?" Nat asked as he came back to that one central mystery.
A glance told Nat that Dyl was at a loss of what to say to that. Nat himself had been pondering this for weeks and nothing seemed to work out. He thought she may be a fugitive but when he checked the bulletin in the city for wanted posters and pictures her name wasn't there. Besides why would a fugitive go and join the army where they had the highest chance of being recognized and arrested? Remembering her original clothes he wondered if she was a run away slave, but again he had found no missing posters in the city or anywhere. All he knew was that she was friendly and chatted about everything except herself or anything that may have to do with herself. It was frustrating.

That evening Nat and Dyl entertained themselves by practicing their knife throwing skills with another soldier who had perfected it. They had each found a pair of good knives for a good price and were now learning to throw them with accuracy. The soldier, Heath, had about ten knives located about his person which he could flourish in the blink of an eye. He showed Nat how to sheathe the knives up his sleeve and flick them out instantly ready to use. Nat soon got the hang of it. The old soldier then began showing off by juggling his knives and then drawing his rapier and juggling them with that and finally using the rapier to flick knives, in mid juggle, into the target. Then, still juggling knives, retrieve them with the rapier. Nat couldn't see the rapier it was flashing back and forth so fast. It was at that point that Dyl spotted the old lady. She was headed towards Varrelle's tent and both Nat and Dyl bade Heath good night and fare well before hurrying off to see what Varrelle was up to with this mysterious old lady.

Old Women and Fresh Vegetables

Varrelle scanned the crowds. Where was that old woman? She had said she would see her at the vegetable stall, but she wasn't there yet.
It was Thursday, and Nat, Dyl, and Varrelle were in town. After having walked around for a while, they had stopped to eat, but really, the food tasted strange here. Maybe that was the old woman!! No....she realized, her heart sinking.
While they had been sitting under the trees eating some rough bread and cheese with an apple and a thin milk-type drink, otherwise known as the staple foods of the region, an old woman had come up to them, and had spoken to Varrelle as one who is an old friend.
"Deary, who are these young men? Mighty handsome for soldiers, ain't they? You are lucky to have found them." she had cackled.
"I'm sorry; I don't seem to know you." Varrelle had said somewhat coolly. After all, who was this woman, and what right did she have to speak so familiarly to her? Even as a slave, people weren't that familiar to her, and she distinctly resented it now, as a free woman.
"Ay deary, no need to get yur feathers flustered, is there? No, you may not know me, but I know YOU." she had said mysteriously.
"Varrelle, who is this woman? Need we arrest her?" Dyl had asked quickly after the woman's last statement.
"No, not just yet." she answered slowly. She wanted to ask this woman questions, and she felt that this woman had plenty of answers.
"Madame, could we talk for just a moment over here?" she asked. The questions she needed to ask Nat couldn't hear. Well, Dyl couldn't either.
Nat had been increasingly on her mind lately, and she didn't really know what to do about it. But she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She needed to focus right now.
"Deary, your thoughts are far away." the woman mused. "Where, I wonder....."
"Never mind that." Varrelle said hurriedly. "Can we talk?"
"Meet me by the vegetable stall across from the stables when the sun reaches the middle of the sky." the woman said.
Varrelle calculated, in 45 minutes, she thought to herself.
"Alright."
Then the old woman walked away.
She still hadn't shown up, and it had been another an hour since she had talked to the woman, and she still wasn't there. Varrelle had a job to do, and she couldn't afford to wait much longer.
She leaned over to the stall-keeper.
"Sir, I was supposed to meet someone here, but I cannot wait much longer. May I leave a message for them with you?"
"Certainly." the rather paunchy man smiled
"I was supposed to meet a certain old woman here. I am not aware of her name, but I know that she will ask if I left a message with you. Please let her know that Varrelle works as a cook for the army, and that she may come to my tents at any time, and that I need to talk with her urgently."
The man raised an eyebrow curiously. "Alright, if you say so" he said
"Thank you!" she told him effusively
She ran back to where Nat, and Dyl, had been looking at some weapons.
"Come on boys!" she cried jubilantly to them. "I'll race you back to camp, and last one there has to do the dishes tonight!"
Grasping her skirts firmly, hiking them up to her knees, she ran fleetly in the direction of camp, her legs gracefully loping off, as one of the elves in a fairy tale. Nat and Dyl came to their senses and took off after her. After all, they would end up doing the dishes for the entire camp!

(once again another splendid post by the great guineagal! Hurrah!)

The Way of the Sword

Nat stood facing Lieutenant Stuntson. Sweat poured off his body and slicked his arms and chest. He had long ago discarded his shirt. It was soaked anyway. Stuntson was standing straight with his practice sword held high above his head. That pose was quite effective for attacking and useful in defense too. The two men circled warily before Nat rushed in again with a swift blow towards the Lieutenant's side. The Lieutenant deftly parried the blow and his sword flashed for Nat's head. Nat barely held off a swift and furious onslaught. Just a few weeks ago he would have been unable to defend against the Lieutenant's attacks but he was improving. Yes definitely improving. The Lieutenant had to work to get him now. Dyl was lounging on the side watching the fight. He and Dyl had begun practicing together in their spare time. Nat had determined to work hard to get promoted. If he couldn't farm he could at least earn money for his mother and send it home to her. Higher wages meant she might actually be able to survive more comfortably. Besides, his father had been a very good soldier back in his day. Before he had died at least. Nat grimly remembered his father telling him to do his best in all he did. Well Nat would make himself into a soldier like no other. Since he had no real choice in the matter anyway he may as well try to become an officer. Parrying a particularly powerful blow, something clicked in his head. He suddenly began a complex set of attacks which forced Lieutenant Stuntson back. Wondering at this new skill, Nat continued to fight realizing that he some how was winning! It was as if all the hours of training had suddenly unlocked a hidden skill! He could suddenly sword fight reasonably well! He understood it! The sword and him merged and became one as he parried and attacked with renewed vigor. Finally the match ended when Nat finally exhausted Stuntson forcing him to call an end to the practice. Nat had never been able to do that! Never fight him to a draw! This was amazing! He could match Stuntson blow for blow now.

The following days were much the same and Nat continued making rapid leaps and jumps in his sword training. Thursday was drawing near but Nat hardly noticed now with all his newfound skills. He felt stronger and had more endurance than before. Training wasn't quite so grueling. He wondered how he had improved so rapidly. He could out do anyone in the 35th in swordsmanship. Even the Lieutenant now. He started to seek out other blade masters and ask if he could practice with them. Many of them could still defeat him but not without difficulty. He was learning fast. Most other aspects of physical combat came easily as well. Nat had always been good with physical jobs. Hand combat was very easy to pick up. Each day Bullion had to find a new way to beat up Nat, and Dyl, well nearly he was impossible to beat up. Dyl could wrestle an ox and come out on top it seemed. He was now not only short and buff, but also hardened into a deadly warrior. Dyl was layered with muscles on muscles and walked around with a slight swagger when he was feeling particularly cocky about some wrestling match he had just won. Nat had changed too. He was taller and thinner than before. His body had hardened from all his marching and training. His hands grew more accustomed to his sword every day. He hardly noticed the changes though. This was life. Life was hard. Life was cruel. So far, in order to live, you had to know how to fight and so Nat decided to prepare for that. There were too few peaceful moments in life.

New Horizons

Liam scrubbed the planks with a filthy rag and embraced the pain of the blisters on his hands and the unbearable ache in his back caused by kneeling and bending over the sun-cooked deck all day, not to mention yesterday's painful welcome. The physical pain helped distract him from the greater emotional pain he was feeling inside. In the same day he had lost his mother, father, and little brother. The blasted siltinians had even killed his dog Manela. The thought that he would never be able to tease his father about his old age again, or to wrestle with his brother over who would tend to the turnips that day, or to taste his mothers delicious cooking, that he would never be able to do any of those things ever again felt like there was a gigantic gory hole in his chest and the wound was filled with salt. The fact that he also discovered on the same day that they weren't his real family, he was adopted, and that he had a brother somewhere his parents thought it was important he found was a trivial side note, compared. Never the less, every so often, when he thought no one was looking, he removed from a hiding place in his wasteband the strange leaf which seemed freshly fallen and almost alive even at this time of year when most trees were bare. His parents had told him that the one who had taken his birth brother away had given it to them, which would make this leaf almost 17 years old. And that was impossible. He banished the leaf from his mind, and tried not to gaze longingly at the sliver of land visible on the horizon.

Too late he lowered his gaze to resume scrubing and a familiar pair of boots appeared at his side, tracking dirt once again on his recently scrubbed poop deck ( a recently learned term for the deck above the captain's cabin ). Liam's gaze followed the black polished boots up past a garishly ruffled white shirt and fixated on the white bearded man's icy blue eyes.
"Thinking of tryin' to escape again?", asked the captain. The deck hands stopped their work to stare at the inevitable conflict with the newcomer and their leader. "Because if you are, you should know that I have other skills besides fist fightin' to keep you from doin' it. And you'd like my other skills even less."
"Save your skills you filthy monster! I wouldn't think of leaving this ship until I had spilt some of the Siltinian blood here.", Liam retorted, unable to keep his rage from breaking forth. He heatedly sprung to his feet. "Take me back to shore and maybe I'll spare you and your crew!"
"Bloody..." The captain cursed and brought back his arm as if he would strike Liam. Liam gazed unflinchingly into his eyes. Apparently dissapointed at Liam's reaction, the captain lowered his arm and chuckled.
"Aye, you have some fire in you, that much is clear. But you know as well as I that even if you were able to kill the whole lot of us, you'd never be able to bring this boat to shore. Look where you are!", he opened his arms indicating their surroundings, "This is the sea! Old disagrements have no place here if you want to survive. The sea makes no differences between taking a Marovian man or Siltinian one to a watery grave! Both kinds hold places here on my ship and they either work peacefully together or I make them get along." His tone of voice made it clear that being made to cooperate was the least favorable choice.
"So, young man" the captain's face neared Liam's ",why don't you get into the nautical spirt" they were a finger nail's width apart now but Liam refused to back down defiantly ", try to forget your differences with our siltinian crew mates" a pause ", and GET BACK TO SCRUBBING THIS DECK BEFORE I BEAT YOU UNTIL YOU'RE BLOODY UNCONCIOUS AGAIN!!! RIGHT! BLOODY! NOW!"
Liam managed to remain defiantly still despite the spittle which now covered his face, but something in the captains' gaze caused him to slowly sink back to the deck, dip the rag in the nearby bucket and to start scrubbing. The crew members chuckled, proud with how their leader handled things, and went back to work, more often than not to his prompting curses.
Still scrubbing with his right, Liam's left hand fingered the place on his jaw where the captain had knocked him out yesterday, his first day on the ship. A painfull reminder that he had some things to learn before he could kill Siltinians, much less hold his own with a hardened ship crew.

After angrily pushing past the worried protests of his friends and neighbors, the day before his abduction he had started out along the nearby rocky coast line, his face set in murderous rage and his vision blurred with angry tears, his sole purpose being to keep on living so that he might kill siltinians. He knew that the Siltinian border would not be closely watched along the coastline because the jagged rocks of the beach went all the way up into the nearby dense forest and made it impossible for an army to infiltrate Siltinian territory that way. And so it was that he made his way north plodding doggedly across the slick rocks and stopping only once to brutally fling a stone into the sea and scream vehemently at the sky before collapsing into sobs upon a moist boulder. He drove onwards into the night until he fainted from exaustion in the shelter of two pine trees, the only trees still green for miles around. He awoke to several strange things in the morning. The first two being that eggs were cooking on a fire in front of him and that he seemed to be covered with Merian the village healer's cloak. The next two oddities being that Merian was lying face down in the dirt a knife in his hands and blood covering his head, and that someone was holding Liam's arms to his side while a large dark-skinned man rose a club over his head. He had just enough time to realise something was wrong before the club came down and he went out like a candle. He was awoken for the second time that day by someone pouring a bucket full of salty water on his face as he lay unrestrained on the ground. Liam felt the wooden floor and thought that he'd been taken to a house somewhere, and that the rocking of the floor was due to his dizziness after the blow to his head. Vaguely he heard the dark-skinned man who had clubbed him tell the bearded man in front of him that they had found the prisoner just like he said they would. Liam assumed that meant they were siltian border patrollers and thought his assumption confirmed when he heard them call the bearded man captain.
He rose shakily to his feet.
"You infernal Siltinians! You take even the life of the defenseless doctor who followed me all this way to look after me!", he screamed at their captain, quite beside himself with anger.
The captain looked at the heavily muscled men questioningly.
"Is this true? You were only to take this man, not to kill anyone!"
The heavies looked flustered.
"Sir! The other man was not dead! We just conked him like we did this guy!"
No one was paying attention to Liam while the captain dressed down his lackeys, and Liam, his vision red with fury, was too far gone to hear the words of the cursed siltinian leader. Spittle covered his chin and he muttered something about this siltinian having killed his last innocent as he rushed the captains back, his fist ready to bash the murderer's head in. To his surprise his fist hit nothing but air and as he passed through the space the captain had occupied less than a second before an arm grabbed his shoulder and threw him crashing into an empty barrel, shattering it. Liam shook his head attempting to clear his double vision, sprung to his feet, and in one smooth move grabbed a board from the remains of the barrel and swung it wildly at the relaxed-but-ready captain. And again the captain did his deplacement trick, the board shattering against the wood floor. This just seemed to make Liam even angrier and the air seemed to grow thick with his wild punches, the captain always managing to duck, sidestep, or otherwise deflect the blows, an amused smile on his face, moving with a youthful agility which belied his gray hair. Suddenly the captain seemed to tire of their game and sent Liam flying backwards with a fierce uppercut which made even the more hardened deck hands wince. As he lay on his back Liam fought to stay conscious, and the captain proudly accepted the applause of the crew. A young looking face marred by an eyepatch appeared above Liam.
"No one can beat the captain. Even if he fought like a new born girl-child, you still wouldn't be able to. The captain has ways."
This last was spoken almost reverently, and the clean shaven face was the last thing he saw before he passed out.

And then he awoke this morning to a rag and bucket being pushed upon him and was told to scrub. And so he did, noticing for the first time that he was on a ship. From before the sunrise until now, when the sun almost brushed the horizon he had been slaving away at the deck eating nothing as the crew openly gorged themselves on freshly caught fish. Liam's stomach grumbled but he didn't want to risk another casual blow like he recieved last time he went to get food.
"Hungry?"
Surprised at having his thoughts seemingly read so easily, he turned to see the eyepatched face he saw before he blacked out yesterday. Strands of blond hair escaped a bandana, framing the most beautiful face Liam had ever seen, with or without an eyepatch.
"Ya-you-you're a gir-yes! I am hungry!" Liam stammered before noticing that the eyepatched girl carried a plate of piping hot fish.
The girl chuckled. "You catch on quickly don't you?" Liam took the plate and commenced to stuff his face under the amused gaze of the girl. Her smile was a great comfort to Liam who had become numb after so much trauma in the past few days. Liam attempted to smile back, but only succeded in making a grimace. The girl laughed.
"You've been through much lately, haven't you?" she asked.
Liam suddenly remembered were he was, and that despite her kindness, this girl had been part of kidnapping him. And so it was with some guardedness that he answered that maybe he had been through more than she knew.
"Well you know, we're not all as bad as you think we are. Some of us disagreed with your, um, ...coming here."
"Is that so? Really. So why am I here? Huh? Just needed someone to CLEAN YOUR FLOORS?" Liam shouted at her.
"That's a kind manner to treat someone who gave up her dinner for you! But since you put it so kindly, I don't know why your here, only the captain does. Why don't you ask him?"
The girl took his empty plate and pranced back below decks. Suddenly left alone, Liam gazed at the setting sun and thought that maybe he would do just that.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hey guys! I have finally got around to writing my bit here, and I hope you liked it! Please tell me your thoughts, I always am gratefull for constructive critisim!]

More Training

Nat watched Varrelle literally sway off with groggy eyes. She was strange. Stretching, Nat stepped out of his tiny tent and pulled a shirt on. She was very strange and very pretty...he would have to be careful around her. Dyl clawed his way out of his tent, panting as he reached the surface. Nat sympathized with him. The tents were barely tall enough to sit up in and seemed to close in on you.

They had rejoined the main army but by that time the Siltinians had withdrawn and left the area. Scouts reported them heading back North, towards the border of Siltania. At least according to Lieutenant Stuntson. Nat handed Dyl a loaf of bread, "Good morning."
"Morning," Dyl grunted rather grumpily. He wasn't a morning person. Good thing Varrelle had given him the bread instead of Dyl. Otherwise Dyl might have scared her off with his ill-tempered attitude.
"Would you like some breakfast? Courtesy of the gracious Varrelle," Nat asked as Dyl noticed Nat eating a delicious, hot loaf of bread. Dyl quickly helped himself. Nat scratched at his brown hair and began discussing the last couple weeks. They hadn't left Surdilea and, if the Sergeant would give them Thursday off, they could go see the sights. Surdilea appeared to be nothing like Chiriath Mul. While it did have a huge wall, the wall enclosed only the inner city. The outer city was really multiple open-air markets. They were filled with all sorts of wonders and Nat had never seen a city so full of trade and so busy as Surdilea. Chiriath Mul was a fortress city. It was big and everything was designed to help defend it. Surdilea was wild with disorder compared to Chiriath Mul. The reason they hadn't been able to visit town though, was because of training. Between Sergeant Bullion and Lieutenant Stuntson, they were training all day. Bullion was perfecting their basic skills with spears and axes etc, while Stuntson focused on swordsmanship. He had even begun taking Nat out for evening practices. Just the lieutenant and Nat, fighting it out to see who was the most skilled. It was always the lieutenant but Nat noticed that he could hold his own. The Lieutenant seemed to enjoy the bouts and went so far as to tell Nat that he would make a good swordsman if he survived long enough. Nat took it as a compliment.

"Hey Dyl," Nat began. "Varrelle asked if we could go to town with her on Thursday. She says she has the day off. I guess she figures we have nothing else to do and a break from all this training would be nice...what say you?"
Dyl mulled over the question for a minute and then replied, "Well as long as it gets us out of training for a day, anything is fine with me. Well anything short of a battle. I might even welcome that to training. Bullion's hand combat techniques are quite painful..." Dyl trailed off leaving Nat to silently agree. His muscles still ached from where he had been pommeled from Bullion's fists. The man had a habit of walking up and socking you to demonstrate different hand combat techniques. Like keeping your arms in the ready position at all times and other techniques that soldiers forgot or hadn't mastered yet.

Shrugging himself into his coat, Nat headed off to go clean up for inspection. Another day of training to look forward to. Great! he thought. I wish it was Thursday already. Then maybe I could have some fun and explore town... First he had to get permission though. That didn't prove to be so hard. After inspection Nat and Dyl began their next day's worth of training while looking forward to Thursday. Only the rest of the week until their break.

Breakfast in Bread

Varrelle wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do.
Of course, she was going to work as a cook for the Moravian army, but beyond that point, she was clueless. She began thinking everything over. First, she was going to be paid. And she was going to be paid a lot. She needed to figure out how she was going to spend that money, and toward what purpose she would save it. For now, her bed and board were taken cared of. She might as well put aside enough for some clothing, and then put the rest toward a house. At this point, a house was something she didn’t need. But later on, she would need it, and when that time came, she wanted to be prepared for it financially.
These pressing matters decided, she went to find Nat and Dyl with a basket of bread for their breakfast. They had, of course, been the ones who had gotten her the job, and so she needed to thank them. Also, she wanted to see if there was any way she could get closer to them. She needed to find out more about this “vision man” she had discovered. Nat seemed to be pretty normal, but she wanted to find out how he affected her. And he couldn’t have any affect on her if he wasn’t part of her life. Therefore, she needed to incorporate him.
As she wandered through the camp, she noticed that there weren’t any women in the group. Well then, I’ll be a first, she thought viciously. And a first they won’t forget.
One of her main concerns when she took the job was that few of the men would respect her. In any way. Of course there was the fact that several of the men would only see her as someone to flirt with. Others would believe her, because of the fact that she was female, inferior to them. That was the main reason that she had included the fact about respect into her “resume.” She didn’t want to have the Sergeant tell her that it was her own fault for not having specified it when hired. Now, if anyone dared to disrespect her, she would be able to have a good foundation to build her case upon if it came to that point. It was good, safe knowledge. She really didn’t want to have to think that that knowledge necessary though. She would rather have the men respect her, plain and simple. But they wouldn’t, and that was why her “protection” was necessary.
She finally reached the tent that she knew was Nat’s, and the one beside it, that she knew belonged to Dyl.
“Naaaaat!! Dyyyyyyyl!! Where arrrrrrre youuuuuu?” she called playfully. Inside the tents she heard some rustling.
Nat had just woken up, but because of the fact that the day before he had taken a bath and shaved for the first time in weeks, he looked, well, nice. Very nice, she admitted guiltily to herself. But that wasn’t what she needed to focus on right now.
“I just wanted to thank you for getting me this job. I know that you didn’t have to, and that you don’t even know me yet, but I promise that I will try and do my best in this position and justify your leap of faith.” She said teasingly.
“Uhhhh, no problem.” Nat said a little groggily.
“Great! Well, I need to get to work on midday, so I’ll leave you. Come see me anytime you want. Oh, and it seems that I have Thursday off. Would you and Dyl like to go do something in town then?” she asked slyly. She had come up with this plan the night before. She needed to get them in an informal position, and just talk. And the fact that she would have both of them there made it even more informal and comfortable. Maybe they were the kind of men who opened up when their stomachs were full….in which case, she had that covered………
“Uhhhh, yaaaaaa that sounds good. I’ll have to talk to Dyl though. I’ll let you know.” He said slowly
“Oh, I nearly forgot, breakfast! Here is some bread for you.” She left it by the tent and walked away with the empty basket
Varrelle smiled as she walked, and then allowed her hips to sway gently to the rhythm that only a woman carrying a basket knows. Her skirts swished, and she thought pleasantly that it was nice to have a long, swinging, clinging skirt again. It was so convenient to use to get her way, she thought laughingly. By the time she was at her quarters again, her face had broken into a huge smile.

(Ahhh yes! Another splendid chapter by Guineagal!)

Back to the Battle

Nat stared, slackjawed, at Varrelle as the Sergeant turned away to continue his bellowing elsewhere. "11 darellins! We only get payed 4 darellins until we complete all our basic, primary, and secondary training!" Dyl was equally surprised at the pay.
"You could get tons of stuff with 11 darellins! They pay cooks that much! Wow! I am going to have to learn to cook better," Dyl smiled.
"Your first day in the Army and you've already landed a good job! You have better luck than I," Nat stated.
Varrelle quickly switched the topic and seemed a bit distressed to Nat, though he couldn't see why. She had landed a good job, and was going to be paid quite well, and at the same time wouldn't have to be kept captive. He felt a little guilty at not completing his orders exactly but at least she wasn't running loose. The only reason for the order to capture anyone who they met was only to keep them from falling into the hands of Siltinians and giving away our position. So everything was fine.
"Where are you from?" Varrelle asked, as they headed out of town.
"We are from the village of Hubleton in the region of Laodin" Nat replied. "And you?"
"I too am from a small village but it is no where of importance. You probably have never heard of it. I haven't ever heard of Hubleton. What is it like?" Varrelle responded quickly hoping to avoid giving away much of her past.
Nat pondered her strange reaction for a bit while Dyl answered carefully, telling about the village green and the old inn. Obviously by Dyl's carefulness, he too noticed Varrelle's evasions. They led her to the 101st's camp and showed her the cooks quarters. Since the previous cook had been a man it was smack dab in the middle of the camp. Nat and Dyl helped her move all the equipment to the edge of camp. She noted that it was quite a bit to carry.
"Well the cook usually has a pack mule to carry his pans. The cook is also the quartermaster of supplies and is in charge of gathering whatever the company needs. Right now we live off of cold rations but that makes it easy for you. Once the campaign is over though, you will have to start cooking," Nat explained.
As they finished a messenger rode into the camp. His horse was winded and he didn't look like he was doing that great himself. He gave the lieutenant a message before galloping off. All the soldiers gathered around to find out what was going on. The lieutenant gravely raised his head.
"Men! We are ordered to move out immediately and march due west to rejoin the main army for a final attack. This is probably going to be the most decisive charge of the battle. Let us prepare to go do our duty!" the lieutenant shouted.
There was a general cheer as the soldiers began packing up the camp swiftly.
"Well I guess we can pack up your stuff now and head out," Nat said with fake cheer. He and Dyl helped Varrelle before heading off to collect their own gear and provisions.
Once out of earshot Nat turned to Dyl and asked, "Do you think she is hiding something?"
"Yeah I have the same feeling. Like she doesn't really trust us or is trying to hide something. Very queer, makes me wary around her. I'm not sure if we can really trust her," Dyl stated. He was always wary about strange things. Nat wanted to trust her, after all she had healed him...but she acted so strangely.

A New Cook

Varrelle stretched, and then started. There were two men staring at her. Had they caught her? Were they going to interrogate her? And why was she on the ground?
Her mind clamored questions at her, but she forced herself to remember the last thing she had done and seen. That’s right! That young soldier. But, there he was, staring at her as if she was the strangest thing he had ever seen. He wasn’t the only one who had a shock. What was he doing? He was covered in mud, blood, and worse. Well. She needed to gather her thoughts, and get some answers.
Painfully she began to get up, when the young soldier who she had met first, what was his name? Dyl? Came over and helped her up. Gratified by his kindness, she smiled weakly at him.
She immediately began to take hand of the situation.
“Who are you? I mean, I know your names, but nothing more. Also, what do you want with me? And finally, what happened to me?” she asked quickly, before either of them dared say something to her.
“We are Moravian soldiers.” the one named, Nat, she was sure, the one she had healed at least, and the one in her vision, told her. “We wish to do you know harm. All we want is some answers. And as for what happened to you, we still don’t really know for sure. You have been out cold for at least 12 hours. We think it was pure exhaustion, plain and simple.”
Remembering the feeling of lightning running through her veins, she doubted it, but was satisfied to ignore that for the moment. Other than the fact that she felt rejuvenated after days of hard work was a good feeling, she still had questions.
“OK, Nat, Dyl. What are you going to do with me?” she inquired brusquely.
“Weeeeeell, we are ordered to capture anyone we meet, and report to our superiors.” Dyl said reluctantly. “Although we really don’t feel we should do that, considering what you’ve done for Nat here. He would have been a goner.”
“Actually,” Nat said, “I was wondering whether we couldn’t make you a proposition. If you wanted, instead of turning you in, we could take you to Sergeant Bullion, and see if you can’t take the place of chef. Our old one was killed in battle, and you seem to have a knack with herbs.”
Varrelle began weighing pros and cons.
After about 3 minutes of waiting on the part of the soldiers, she said, “OK, but only under certain conditions. First, I’m going to need my own sleeping area. I refuse to sleep with the soldiers. Second, when I ask for something, I expect to get it. Of course only kitchen things. As far as I can see, that’s all, but I may need other things, and I reserve the right to change those conditions whenever I need to. Is that clear? I also will demand respect from the soldiers.”
Nat and Dyl looked at each other. Nat had suspected that these would be the conditions. They weren’t unreasonable.
“OK, you’ve got yourself a deal. Of course, we aren’t the people in charge. You still need to talk to Sergeant Bullion.”
“Alright, I’m prepared for that.”
As they led her away from the brook and toward the main buildings, she began to worry a little. This was NOT the way she had planned it. But she needed to stay close to Nat. She needed to find out more about how he impacted her.
They reached the main building. As they walked inside, she saw a tall, muscled man yelling orders to some soldiers. He stopped when he saw them.
“What do you want?” he snapped
“Sir, I was under the impression that you needed a chef. Well I would be willing to cook. I’m also talented with herbs.”
The Sergeant seemed to mull it over.
“What are your conditions?”
“First, I’m going to need my own sleeping area. I refuse to sleep with the soldiers. Second, when I ask for something, I expect to get it. Of course, only culinary things. As far as I can see, that’s all, but I may need other things, and I reserve the right to change those conditions whenever I need to. I also will demand respect from the soldiers.”
“Girly, those are standard. Is there anything else?”
“Well, wages would be good to talk about. I was thinking that approximately 8 darellins per month would suffice.” (Enough to buy at least 2 dresses)
“Girly, the army pays 11 darellins per month per cook, because the cooks end up fighting. The job isn’t a coveted one, well paying or otherwise.”
“Fine, I’ll take it.”
“You’re hired”

(Yay! Go guineagal! Keep it up! Can you readers guess who wrote this one? I pretty much left it alone so I haven't changed anything I don't think)

Miraculous Healing

Nat's dreams were suddenly interrupted by a strange feeling that flowed into him. His pain vanished and his fevered dreams of home were suddenly dispelled as the urge to wake up drove him towards consciousness. He opened his eyes to find a young lady collapsing on top of him. He grunted softly and then realized it hadn't pained his side. He checked it and couldn't find the wound. Surprised and amazed by his good fortune to be alive he next spotted Dyl leaning over him. His face appeared drawn with worry which smoothed when he saw Nat's eyes open.
"What happened?" were the first words out of Nat's mouth.
"You are back!" Dyl cried exultantly. "She saved you!"
"Who is she?"
"Umm...she didn't say," Dyl looked a bit embarrassed.
Nat gently lifted her, marveling at her muscle and then positioned her so he could examine her. Suddenly he started. She was the one who had distracted him and almost cost his life. She looked almost like the girl from the woods, though the clothes were different. Relatives? No matter a lady was in need here and his dear old mother would never forgive him for tarrying when someone needed help. "Help me take her to the village and let's find a bed or at least a soft, warm place for her to lie. Then we can try reviving her. Tell me everything about the battle after I went down." Nat slowly stood. He still felt weak and apparently he hadn't regained his strength. He examined himself. He repeated the examination. Not a scratch. He felt his neck for the gash and it was gone. His side didn't even have a scar. In the meantime Dyl explained about how the Siltinians had broke and pulled back, how the village had been rescued, how he had found Nat, and, most importantly to Nat, how this strange girl had healed him.
"She put some sort of crushed herb in your wounds and then she was holding your arm and suddenly collapsed on top of you as you were opening your eyes. She must have had too much excitement for one day," Dyl concluded.
Nodding agreement Nat carefully wended his way along holding the girl between them.
"Those herbs seem to work marvelous things! How are you feeling?"
"I feel fine but drained of energy and strength. I must have lost too much blood. It is all I can do to help you carry her." Upon arriving at the village they found that all the buildings were full of wounded and there was no room at all for more. They finally ended up taking some clean blankets from some dead soldiers and creating a bed for her near a little brook flowing on the outskirts of the village. Nat, sagging from exhaustion was unable to do more than sit idly by and let Dyl go find some smelling salts or anything really to help revive the lady. Dragged down by weariness, though, Nat finally sank into a deep sleep and didn't wake up until morning. He woke up to find Dyl cooking breakfast and the young lady still unconscious.
"She hasn't woke up all this time?" asked Nat.
"No. It's as if she is just sleeping normally though. See her chest still moves."
Nat glanced back to see if that was correct and heaved a sigh of relief. Then he got up and still rather weak but feeling invigorated got a good refreshing drink from the brook. As he returned from the brook, now wet, bloody, and muddy, the young lady yawned and stretched luxuriously before opening her eyes and looking around.

Miracles and Visions

A few hours after the alarm had been sounded, the fighting had died down, except for a few pockets of resistance. Varrelle wasn't sure what she was going to do at this point. She had just gotten ahold of herself, and now her grasp was slipping. Right now, all she wanted to do was sit down and cry a river. But other women were helping. Women she was sure had lost husbands and sons within the past few hours.
So she got up, dusted herself off, and tried to be objective. Alright, so there were now soldiers here. Of course that didn't mean that she was in trouble. She hadn't done anything to them. She had even assisted in the killing of 2 Siltinians. That's right. They had nothing on her.
Thus she bolstered up her courage and set out to help with the wounded. It was a fairly easy job, because first, she was good with herbs, and second, because she didn't have to fear that a loved one was going to appear in the growing pile, as other women did.
As she was searching to see where she could help, she saw a young soldier bending over another soldier.
Approaching him gently, she inquired, "Is he your brother?"
"No, but he's as close to me as one." the young man replied.
"Let me see how badly he's wounded." she demanded, picking up on the present tense that the young man had used.
"Oh my." this was extrordinary.
"What is it? Is he dead? Please don't say he's dead!" the young man cried
"No, not dead........." Varrelle rocked back on her heels. This was amazing. She knew him. Of course not formally, but he had been in one of her visions. She had had visions as far back as she could remember. It had only happened 4 times in her life, but they had happened at equal intervals in her life. No, that wasn't precisely true. She had actually been having them more frequently. She had had the first of her visions at the age of 5, or so her mother had told her. Her second, at the age of 9, her third, at the age of 13, and her most recent at the age of 16. So there had been a slight increase.
Anyway, the fact remained that he was one of her vision people. Before, if she had a vision about someone, they were to be important in her life, whether negativly or postitively. She had, for example, had a vision of the face of her future slave owner at the age of 13, and had no idea what it meant until 2 years later, after she was sold to him.
She had to go carefully. She couldn't rush this at all.
"What's his name?" she asked brusquely
"Nat."
"And you are......?"
"Dyl."
"Ohhhhhhh."
"If you can do somthing for him, please, do it quickly!" Dyl burst out, for the first time looking up into her face. "Why, you are the girl from the forest!"
"What? You must be joking. I haven't been in the forest at all recently!" she fibbed. She needed to figure out the situation at hand. Not explain her life story.
"Weeeeeeell......" Dyl said reluctantly. "Maybe you weren't. In any case, can you help my friend?"
She thought about it. Of course there was the fact that she needed to figure out how he impacted her life, and if what Dyl was saying was true, he HAD helped her out of a jam. OK, her mind was made up. She would do it.
"Where is he injured?" she asked quickly. By the looks of it, she didn't have long.
Dyl showed her a deep cut in his side, through which he was losing blood, and a strong blow to the head, along with deep gashes in his chest, looking to be made by a spear.
She didn't know if she could do it. He was already too weak. But she would try it.
"This is going to be difficult." she warned Dyl. "And it may hurt him. So stand by in case he comes to."
Dyl looked frightened, but nodded.
First she borrowed some herbs from a nearby woman. Then she began to crush them into a paste, and put them into his major wounds. After he showed no signes of living, she began to be worried. His pulse was far too slow to be a good sign. His breath was shallow, and weak. She knew that if something drastic didn't happen soon, he would die.
The thought of that scared her. Imensly. That couldn't happen. She needed to find out more about him, and how he would affect her.
Panic filled her mind, and then suddenly, the desire to heal him completely began to fill her. Seeming to start from her crown, down to her toes, a tingling started. Then, as fast and seemingly as powerful as lightning, she released the burning energy that seemed to be feeding on her life light.
As she let go of his arm, she saw his eyes flutter, and the scars and wounds vanishing from him.
Then she fainted from sheer exhaustion.

(written by guineagal. Way to go! splendid job!)

Victory at Lothan

The Siltinians had suddenly stopped pressing the villagers. Liam was at first unaware of the reason, only aware that his opponent was very skilled with a sword. Taking his spiked club, he spun it swiftly towards the swordsman's head, changing his target at the last second for the thigh. Unfortunately the club smashed into the sword hilt. The swordsman reached struck out like a serpent and Liam barely retreated fast enough. Suddenly several dirty, grimy, soldiers attacked the Siltinian from behind and while the Siltinian managed to hold his own, he eventually had to give way. Liam glanced around the area. Corpses were strewn everywhere, nearly a third of the village had burned before the women had contained the fire, and everywhere the Siltinians were pulling back. A small force of what appeared to be Marovian soldiers was making its way towards the village, collecting their dead as they approached. There were already about 100 Marovians in the village. They had a slight accent but definitely Marovian. The fiercest fighting had occurred just minutes ago when the Siltinians managed to get past the log stakes and palisade that they had erected. Thankfully the village was only partially destroyed.
As Liam walked about surveying the disaster he spied a familiar head. "NOOO!" he screamed! Racing to Kariem he hugged his brother's body and cried. Tears formed in his eyes and he tried to focus his thoughts. Kariem was dead. His brother was dead. Kariem had been his best friend for all his life. He jerked his club out as fury engulfed him and he went and smashed a dead Siltinian with his club. He left, unable to remain with his dead brother. I will get revenge! A thousand times over if need be! Nothing will stop me and the Siltinians will fear my name! Suddenly a worried villager found him. It was Merian the village healer.
"Liam" she said tentatively, "Your Mother and Father, they...they are not doing well." Liam's head jerked towards her eyes wide. Nothing can stop Father though, He thought.
"They would like to see you and if you have seen Kariem they also want to see him as well."
"Kariems dead," Liam said harshly. "The cursed Siltinians murdered him!" Merian was visibly startled by his behavior but quickly turned and led him towards one of the few homes still intact. Walking into the house, Liam quickly picked out his father and mother. His mother was hardly breathing and his father was deathly pale.
"Liam...coome herre, sonny," his Father whispered ending it in a groan. "Them Siltinians got me good this time. Not as spry as I was in me younger days. I wanted you to know that we love you." At this Liams mother nodded. "But you never were our child, though we have come to love you as ours. You were brought to our door...brought in the middle of the night. She, she died of exhaustion and pneumonia three days later. Your mother...died. Told us to send your brother away with a messenger bearing a strange leaf." At that, Clorem struggled to reach something in his coat. He brought forth a leaf. Well it looked like a leaf only it was still green not dead. Furthermore it felt soft and feathery and yet was very sturdy. "Like this...said you must find your brother when you come of age," Clorem coughed and spit out some blood. "Go rejoin your lost brother." With that he relaxed and his breathing began to rasp more and more until both he and his wife lay still, death's embrace soothed their features and left them in peace. Liam screamed and tore at his hair! The world wasn't fair! He would make the Siltinians pay for this! They will pay in blood!