Dralin (14 page)

Sergeant Gorman’s hand smacked down loudly
on the page, causing Duuth to jump. “No . . . You will
not
write that policy, Captain,” he said in a quiet, deadly tone that
had terrified greater men. Duuth gulped loudly, his protruding
Adam’s apple bouncing up and down. He shrank into his chair as
Gorman leaned over him, hand still on the parchment. “You
will
allow this man to raise his child in the barracks. You
will
not
throw a fuss about it and everything
will
be
done very quietly.”

Gorman slowly straightened. “We won’t ask
you to approve of it or sign anything. The only thing we
will
ask of you is to turn a blind eye . . . just like I’ve
been turning a blind eye to the fact that you are having an affair
with Assembly Member Beautilla’s lovely daughter, taking her to
very seedy clubs within the Orange Sash District.” Gorman winked at
the captain. “There’s not exactly a policy against that either, is
there?” he asked with a short laugh.

Captain Duuth became angrier and angrier
until Gorman mentioned the assembly member’s daughter, and then his
face went white. It didn’t have far to go to reach that color,
having been rather chalky to begin with. “You can’t know about . .
. You can’t tell! . . . Get out!” he shouted, standing up and
waving an arm furiously. His bony hands shook. “You get out of my
office right now! Keep the brat in the barracks for all I care.
Get out
!” His eyes narrowed until they were thin slits.
“Just get out,” he finished in a harsh whisper as the two guardsmen
walked through the door.

Chapter
8

“Pelya is the most wonderful baby I’ve ever
seen,” Private Malwy told Frath. He was short, stocky and had a
jolly manner that made people smile. His green eyes lit up whenever
he came around the baby and he was always one of the first in line
to take care of her. “I only wish you were behaving as well as
her,” he told Frath with crossed arms and lowered brow.

They were in the barracks a week after
Sheela’s death. Malwy had just put Pelya to bed and was standing in
front of Frath along with Bobbell and another private named Herman.
Frath glared at them, annoyed that they had cornered him.

“You can glare at us all you like, Frath,”
Herman said in irritation. Average height with brown hair and eyes,
he was unremarkable in most ways, which made him dangerous because
his opponents tended to dismiss or underestimate him. Added to
that, he fought dirty. “You’re not eating, you’re hardly sleeping,
you have bags under your eyes and you’re angry all the time. You
take good care of Pelya, but not yourself.”

“What’s going on here?” Gorman asked, coming
up behind the men.

“It’s Frath, Sergeant,” Bobbell said with a
gesture of disgust at their friend. “He’s acting like a petulant
child. I know he’s still upset, but at some point he’s going to
have to figure out how to rejoin the squad and we’ve all been
helping with the baby.”

Gorman folded his arms and studied Frath for
a moment. Frath stared back sullenly. He couldn’t stop being angry.
It was eating away at him from the inside out. Taking care of Pelya
was the only thing he wanted to do, but he was starting to resent
the child for causing her mother’s death and it was a dangerous
feeling that frightened him to no end.

“You have one day to get your head on
straight, Private.” It was a command that brooked no disobedience.
“Take this day off and go wherever it is you always disappear to. I
expect you to come back here first thing in the morning with a
healthy appetite and a positive attitude.”

Frath looked at him incredulously, wondering
how in the world his sergeant could think it to be that easy. He
then glared at each of the privates, but they didn’t budge a bit.
Herman jabbed a finger in his face. “It’s for your own good. You
have things to figure out and not a lot of time to do it, so I
suggest you get started.”

“What about Pelya?” Frath demanded
stubbornly as he stood.

“You know she’s fine here. We’ll take good
care of her,” Malwy stated firmly. “We’re her family too.”

Frath knew it was true and nodded slowly.
Everyone in the squad loved Pelya. There was something about her
that made them fall in love right away. She cried only when she
needed something like a bottle or a diaper change. Her tiny grip
was strong and she loved to gnaw on people’s fingers. She inherited
black hair from her father and it looked like her eyes would remain
just as brilliantly blue. Luckily, she received her mother’s pretty
nose and face.

“
Go
, Private,” Gorman ordered.

Frath looked back toward his room where
Pelya was sleeping quietly, and then he left the barracks.

***

Frath stood in front of the Shining Shield
Inn, staring at it blankly. He didn’t remember walking there or
know why he had come. Sheela wasn’t there anymore. Albert and Purla
had brought the ashes to Lady Pallon’s estate the day after her
death. Sergeant Gorman and Private Bava had come with Frath and
Pelya as they spread the ashes in the vast backyard. It was a small
service that included some of the servants and guards from the
inn.

The Knight of Reanna that had kissed Pelya
on the forehead the day she was born had attended as did the
noblewoman. Upon realizing Frath had not invited any priests, nor
had he allowed Lady Pallon to do so, the knight delivered the
blessings of the Sun Goddess upon the ashes and the ground they
were spread over. While Frath didn’t like priests, the knight’s
blessing felt right. Something about the man was powerful and awe
inspiring. Frath wished he had learned his name.

“Hello, Frath. Are you alright?” Albert
asked, coming down the steps from the inn, startling him.

“I . . . yes . . . I don’t know,” he
stammered.

Concern covered Albert’s face. “Frath, you
look gaunt. Come inside and eat something.” He put his hand on
Frath’s back and guided him firmly up the stairs into the inn.
Albert led him to the kitchen and had him sit at a table out of the
way of the busy cooks. “A plate of food here,” he ordered, snapping
fingers in the direction of a serving girl.

Purla came over immediately upon seeing the
young guardsman. “What is it? Is Pelya alright?” she asked
worriedly.

Frath nodded quickly. “Yes, she’s
wonderful.”

“Are
you
alright?” she asked
intuitively.

“Of course he’s not,” Albert said with a
roll of his eyes. “He looks miserable. Obviously he’s still
grieving.”

Purla nodded in agreement. “Yes, you’re
right.” She put a hand on Frath’s while the serving girl set a
plate of eggs, meat and fruits down in front of him. “Grief is only
useful for a day or two. After a week, it damages you and can send
you into the gutter, which you know better than most is a terrible
place to find people.” She patted his hand and sat down next to
him. “Eat,” she commanded, pointing at the food.

His mouth was already watering from the
aroma wafting up. It had been a while since he had eaten more than
a few bites, but suddenly his stomach made its emptiness known.
Frath dug into the meal with fervor, making amends to his
belly.

“There now, that’s what I like to see,”
Albert said with a nod. “My wife is correct in what she told you.
Life will be terrible at times, I know that for certain.” He held
up the stump where his arm had once been. “I tried drinking myself
to death when this happened, but Purla set me straight. You get
yourself straight now. You’re young yet and there’s a lot of life
ahead of you.” He pushed up from the table with his other arm. “I
have business to take care of. Eat until you’re full.”

Purla wordlessly patted Frath on the
shoulder and also went back to her work. When he finished the
plate, she made certain another was put in front of him with even
more variety. It felt good to eat something decent again and he
realized that he really
had
been neglecting himself
badly.

Frath stretched his arms and legs, feeling
the weakness from not eating or exercising. The next time he went
to the practice grounds, he would have to be careful to warm up and
not get foolishly beat down.

Albert came back to look in on him. “How are
you? Did the food help?”

“Yes. Thank you, friend,” Frath replied,
standing and putting a hand on the innkeeper’s solid shoulder.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and let me know if
there’s anything I can do for you in the future.”

“You saved my life,” he responded, returning
the gesture. “And you’ve been a good friend to me. Come by any time
you need to talk or just need a good meal.”

“And bring that child by now and then.
Everyone wants to see her,” Purla added, coming up behind Albert.
She gave Frath a huge, warm hug.

“I will,” he replied as they parted. “I’ll
have to get her away from everyone in the squad first though.” He
almost smiled at the thought.

“How is that going? Are they really going to
let you raise her there?” Albert asked in curiosity.

“They are, but I can’t give you the details
and we’re not making a big deal about it,” he said.

“Of course. It’s all very mysterious and
interesting,” Albert agreed. He smacked Frath on the shoulder.
“Back to work for me. Take care of yourself and that baby.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Purla gave him one more hug. “Go on your way
now and clear your head. Come to the kitchen whenever you need a
meal.”

“Thank you, Purla.” He exited the kitchen’s
delivery door to the side street and said hello to the guard there,
a huge scar-faced man named Damen who had a wooden leg and wielded
a wicked double-bladed scythe. The weapon and the man were so
intimidating that no one ever messed with him. Frath knew Damen had
an amazing sense of humor and was very friendly though. Sheela had
really liked him and always brought him treats she snuck from the
kitchen.

As he turned back down the street, Frath
felt the agony of loss again. His jaw clenched as he tried to
control it. How he was supposed to continue was beyond him. Once he
was out of sight of the inn, he leaned against a wall and tried to
decide what to do next.

The thought of going to Carnival and
watching merriment brought anguish to his mind, so did the thought
of going to the market and not having anyone to buy for. Frath
decided to go to Lady Pallon’s Estate to talk to her and to visit
where Sheela’s ashes had been scattered.

The squirrel let him in right away, not even
asking his business. Frath wondered how long it could live
considering it had been there since the first time he visited. Of
course it was a talking squirrel, so normal rules probably didn’t
apply.

Lady Pallon met him at the door, not even
waiting for him to knock. She was wearing a cream-colored dress
with pearled beads sewn throughout the top. As always, she had a
hat to match it with fresh flowers sewn into it. “Come with me,
Frath. You need to see this.” She led him through the house, not
waiting for an answer. Frath closed the front door behind him and
quickly followed.

A moment later, they were in the grounds
behind the house. Frath had chosen a back corner to spread the
ashes, near some of the willows by an old fountain with a small
statue of a woman pouring water in the center. The fountain didn’t
work and the woman’s jug was empty of water. It was to that spot
that Lady Pallon took him.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the
transformation. The fountain was working again. The statue’s
clothing was yellow with gold lacework. Her hair was black and she
leaned over, pouring water from the jug that had become blue. The
water within glistened with the radiance of the sun.

The area around the fountain had originally
been dried grass, but rosebushes now grew wild and the grass was
green and fresh. The roses had three times as many thorns as normal
and the blossoms were all dark violet.

“Frath . . .” Lady Pallon began, trying to
form the words. “The Knight of Reanna’s blessing may have been
responsible for the fountain and grass, but the roses . . .”

“That’s . . . unusual,” Frath responded
lamely.

“I like them, but I’ve never seen that color
in roses before.” She crossed her arms. “They seem to be getting
along well enough with the fountain . . . That sounds odd, but . .
.”

“They’re pretty. Do you really think this is
all because of Sheela?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Yes, I do. There was something special
about that girl, but I can’t put a finger on it.” She turned and
dusted off her dress, although there wasn’t a speck on it. “Now . .
. what about you? You look terrible, even more unhappy than you did
before you met her. You have got to be the gloomiest young man I’ve
ever met.” She slapped his upper arm, ignoring the fact that the
chain shirt absorbed the blow.

“I’m . . . I
am
more miserable and I
don’t know how to deal with how much my heart hurts, even though I
know I need to get on with life.”

“No you don’t,” Lady Pallon replied. “Let’s
have tea.”

Frath frowned in puzzlement. “I don’t?” She
didn’t answer, so he followed her into the conservatory.

They sat down at their normal table and
Frath stared at the vacant seat Sheela normally took. Next to the
table was a white wicker crib with a sleeping baby in it. A nanny
curtseyed to Lady Pallon who told her to get tea.

“It’s nice when Ebudae is asleep instead of
crying about some tooth, a bottle or a silly diaper,” Lady Fallon
declared with a dramatic sigh. “I didn’t enjoy raising her mother
and I’m certainly too old to raise her.” Lady Pallon was furious at
her daughter for leaving Ebudae on the doorstep and then
disappearing. She paid two nannies to do most of the raising, but
insisted on suffering visibly every once in a while.