Rowan's Story, page 2

    Rowan studied her spellbook for two hours. She didn't have many spells, or very powerful ones; her training had been brief, hasty and informal. Going over them once didn't take very long, but she put extra effort into these studies. She rather enjoyed it.
    Unlike many of her mercenary colleagues, who disliked magic or distrusted it on general principles, she considered it merely another weapon; kin to the ones she held in her hands and just as reliable and safe if used correctly. This meant practice of course and she was willing to spend the time. This she would say, if asked. Just to herself, she knew it was more than those practical considerations. The spell-words- running through her head as she practiced, or from her lips those times she'd used them- felt as good and right as her sword or cross-bow did in her hands. More, it gave her an almost elated feeling to let the spell go, and the "hangover" was a much cleaner feeling than the one she got after drinking.
    Quietly she wondered if she might get her new traveling companion to teach her more. She wasn't sure how he would react to such a request, to be sure. Not to mention it would mean spending more time with him, and she already owed him her life. She sighed, closed her spellbook and replaced it at the bottom of her pack. It was thin, plain-bound, pages mostly blank. Rowan left her room, tucking back the wisps of hair that escaped her long auburn braid as she walked down to the common room.
    She had some vague thought of taking a walk. She was stiff from sitting, and she thought that she had seen a fighting school on her ramble yesterday. As soon as she spotted the wizard, sitting by the door, her mind was made up. She hoped he hadn't been listening to her thoughts again. Every time she saw him he made her uneasy.
    He looked up, meeting her eyes as she came towards the door and his seat. She kept herself blank, nodding as she passed him. She saw a faintly puzzled look on his face, but as the door closed behind her she thought she heard a soft laugh...
    The town looked the same as it had yesterday at twilight. The sign she'd seen did indeed advertise a fighting school. She squared her shoulders and walked in. She found herself in a large, echoing courtyard, stone, and nearly deserted. She turned to her left and glided along the wall, finding a semi-private spot to lean back and watch.
    There were only three men in the courtyard- a large man, seated to one side cleaning equipment, including a large sword that he was at present polishing, and two men sparring.
     She choked back a little start of fear, for one of the fighters was an elven man of middling age. She reminded herself that none here would know, indeed, how could they know? She succeeded in remaining calm and watched the match.
    The elf was tall, willowy, and he fought with dexterous, graceful movements. His reach was much greater than that of his opponent- a youngish, barrel-chested dwarf. Both were skilled, and Rowan, watching, decided that the elf was no ordinary merc as his clothing suggested but a noble's guardsman if not a noble himself. Interestingly, despite his training and greater reach he was steadily losing to the dwarf, whose clear advantage was strength. Slowly the elf was being overpowered.
    She turned her eyes from the match at a prickling on the back of her neck. The large man was watching her steadily. She returned the look and he broke eye contact. He had finished with polishing the sword and he now stood up, testing the sword in the air before dropping into some individual forms. So caught up was she in watching this demonstration of superior skill that she didn't notice that his movements brought him steadily closer to her.
    Finally he finished, placing the word point-down in front of him and leaning on the hilt slightly. He studied her polite mask-face for a second, and nodded to himself as if confirming some decision. He had taken in her clothing when she entered, and knew her for what she was. Thus when he spoke, his question was not really a question.
    "Didn't stumble in here by accident, did you?" His words carried a hint of a smile, but none of the condescension Rowan had been conditioned to expect. This man didn't loom, emphasizing his height against her smaller one, nor did he seem surprised to see a woman in such a place. She wouldn't go so far as to say it made her like him, but... she warmed. Nodding, she showed him a smile.
    "No sir... indeed not." Just then the match in the center of the yard came to a conclusion, the younger dwarf the victor as predicted. Most interesting to Rowan was the lack of animosity between the two men; elves were not known for their tolerance. Still, she might have guessed this one to be atypical merely by the fact of his presence here. The two shook hands on the match, and then the elven man excused himself to cool down, a barrel of water standing in the far corner of the yard providing the means.
    The dwarf came towards them. He glanced at Rowan, and then directed his attention to the other man. "Well, Adric? What think you of his form?" Rowan started upon hearing the name, which caused the man himself to look at her and smile again.
    "As I was about to remark... I am Adric, the master of this school. This my companion is Tyr. You are…?” he added politely.
    “Rowan,” she said shortly. “I…” Pausing, she sought a sufficiently brief explanation. “I'm here for a few days while some work is done, and I thought I might practice here, rather than molder at my inn for the entire time.” This suited both men, it seemed, and a first bout- in a trial capacity, for the testing of her skill- was arranged. She was to face Tyr, who seemed to be co-owner of the school.
    Naturally, she lost. But both Adric and Tyr seemed satisfied. By this time, Rowan was sweating heavily. She wore a leather vest over a short tunic, and felt as if she were baking. Signaling her intent for a rest after her second match, she walked to the benches and removed the vest, noticing that the map the wizard had given her still rested in its inside pocket. Folding the vest, she placed it on the bench, and returned to the center of the yard.
    “For this match,” said Adric, “you will face Vand.” And he nodded to the elven man, who had joined them again. “Tyr and I will watch, and perhaps be able to make some suggestions on your fighting form.” Rowan nodded, swallowing against a shameful flutter in her stomach. Vand seemed to notice nothing of her trepidation, merely glancing at her neutrally and then beginning to limber up.
    When they were done, he bowed to her respectfully. A breeze that had found its way down into the yard swirled his loose hair and tugged at her own braid. “You have the beginnings of a fine skill, one which will improve in time, though I suspect you are new yet in your profession.” She took the gracious words in the spirit they were meant, forcing a smile and a nod of thanks. Then she moved to take advantage of the water barrel, splashing her face and neck liberally.
     As she blinked water from her eyes, she became aware of Adric standing behind her. He looked angry, at her, a complete reversal of his earlier friendliness. She stared at him silently, wrapping her arms about herself as she waited for him to explain. He held up the wizard's map.
    “Where did you get this?” His voice was quiet. Rowan was taken aback. This was about the map? She blinked once, twice, to clear her confusion.
    “He gave it to me,” she said, voice faltering as she came to another realization- she didn't know the wizard's name. She had been traveling with him for days- Lady's sake!- and she had never once thought to ask his name.
    Adric must have seen something of this on her face. He seemed to relax. “I believe "he" must have... but for form's sake, lady, will you describe the man who gave this to you to me?" Rowan did so, and Adric handed her the map back.
    "Forgive me for my anger, but I had to be sure." Rowan wanted to ask him why he cared- who was this upstart wizard that she traveled with?- but he stopped her. "If you travel with him, it were best you ask him yourself. I cannot think but that he had some reason not to tell you." Frustrated, she stared at him, but allowed herself to be diverted into another match. Soon she forgot all about it.

    By the day's end she was well and truly exhausted, and as she took her leave of the school and walked back to the inn she was in a state of relaxed good humor that had been too rare on this trip. In the morning, she knew, her every muscle would ache but for now she enjoyed the slight twinges. The sun was low, tinting everything with orange and red as she approached the inn. This she appreciated also, the slight melancholy caused by light's dying adding to her mood. But nearly as soon as she entered the inn, this mellow feeling was shattered by the wizard's voice, softly sounding in no ears but her own.
    "Rowan..." She turned to see him sitting at a table before one of the windows. His voice was flat, leached of its usual smarmy good humor. “Would you please join me.” With a sigh, she moved through the room and sat across from him. Goddess, how she wanted a bath and bed, and not another difficult conversation. For once, he seemed to share her sentiment, and pricked by her conscience- which she was not happy to meet at this juncture- she determined to make this as easy as possible. Cooperative, I will try and behave…. She mentally admonished herself.
    Breaking into her brief appraisal, he shifted in his seat, and pulled a small wooden box from some place in his robes. He set it on the table before her, and she looked at it warily, noting the surface polished by age. At his sound of impatience, she reluctantly took it up, and slowly opened it. Her eyebrows knit in an expression of confusion that she did not give voice as she stared at the box's contents- a silver ring, scrolled with strange symbols. Finally she looked up at her companion.
    “That ring is counterpart to another that I myself wear,” he began. Somehow she got the impression that there was more to this than he was saying, but she remained quiet, waiting. “It will give you warning if I should be in danger, and I in turn will be aware of you. I would ask that you wear it, simply to make things easier.” She nodded; it was a small enough request even though the thing made her vaguely uncomfortable. Making as if to rise, she was stopped by a hand on her arm. To his credit, he removed it quickly when she looked at him warningly.
    “There is one more thing I would discuss with you. I believe you may have heard certain things today.” At her nod, he continued. “Most people in this town know me well; it was my original home. I have performed certain services in its defense, and therefore you should be able to avoid paying for all but little, if anything, during your stay- provided it is known that you are with me.” She had begun to frown, and he smiled, a little, but it was obvious he wasn't up to it. “If it makes you so uncomfortable, I'm sure something can be arranged. But for now, I think we should say goodnight.” His tone irked her- he spoke to her like a child. It was possible he was ignorant of the fact that she could easily be twice his age while appearing to be half it, but still it grated, and she stood more abruptly than she had intended and swiftly crossed to the stairs. Just as she reached the top, his voice- cool now- whispered through her.
    "Lady- Calle Rowansbranch Æstherian- my name is Llyren."
    Stopping with one foot on the landing, she looked down, back to the table. Before catching his eye she then turned back to the hall. She didn't want to know, or talk, or think about it. Too tired to wait even for a bath upon reaching her room, she threw off her clothes and crawled into the bed.

    Rowan didn't know how long she slept, but it was full morning before she woke. About the only thing she was grateful for was the fact that the bird wasn't outside her window any longer. She did indeed ache like she'd been beaten, which only proved to her that she was getting out of shape. Also, she felt grimy and- her least favorite of them all- raw inside. Badly disturbed by the fact that the wizard- no, give him his name, Llyren- knew her full name, which she should have guessed, she'd tossed and turned with dreams all night. She couldn't remember them, but some parts- like running, and screaming- came back as she sat up. The truth was, it was the name itself that had done it. She'd been Rowan, just Rowan, for over a year now, and just hearing that title again had been enough to bring things that were still too fresh up to the surface. Rising with a pained hiss, she went to call for a bath.
    When it arrived, she slipped in with something like her usual glee. It was not often on a job that she had the luxury of regular bathing, and she intended to exploit it to the fullest. She slid under the water, submerging herself entirely and holding her breath as long as she could. As her head popped back above the surface, her attention was drawn to the side-table where she had placed the wizard's box. It was open, and the ring glimmered in the sun. Rowan frowned. Surely, surely the box had been closed when she tossed it there last night? For some reason, the sight of the ring bothered her. She got up, tracking water across the floor, and closed it tight. But before she even stepped back into the tub, she heard a sound and turned to see the box open again.
    ~What in the name of the Abyss…~ She stood and wrapped a towel around herself reluctantly. Then she went to pick up the ring. It gleamed even brighter in her fingers, it seemed. She frowned down at it, curiously. Her eyes picked up something on the inside of the band- some writing. She squinted down at it, bringing it closer to her face.
    "Inary..." she read slowly. Next to the name- a woman's name, she noted- was a symbol she didn't recognize. But she began to get an idea of the owner- previous owner? Shaking her head, she looked at the ring lying in her loosely held fist. It wanted her attention, and it wanted her to put it on. She knew this. She didn't want to, but she remembered what Llyren had told her about the ring's purpose.
    As she slid it onto her left ring finger, a sense of danger rolled over her, so crushing that it seemed to shake the room around her. She fell, clutching at the table, as the feeling washed around her and faded into something more manageable. Just then the room shook again, and there was a pounding on the door. She realized that the shaking at least had been external, not caused by the ring. She went to answer the door, confronted by a shaken boy. Outside she could hear cries and loud sounds she couldn't place. The vibrations continued, and the boy grasped her arm to regain her attention.
    “Miss! Please come quickly! There's a… thing and it's throwing…” he babbled on and she stopped him.
    “Where is Llyren? Is he out there with it? Did he send you?” The boy gaped and nodded, shying a little with every thump. Rowan slammed the door in his face and hurriedly dressed, grabbing her sword. She looked at it first, wondering how exactly it would help her against something big enough to shake the inn, and then shrugged. It was all she had. She threw the door open on the empty hall and jumped down the stairs three at a time.
    Later, much later it seemed although the sun was still high overhead, Rowan numbly supported Vand as they staggered into the inn. Once inside and the older elf settled, Rowan was able to think about Llyren, who seemed to have disappeared.
    He had been bleeding even when she had first come running out of the inn. Nonetheless he had managed to cast the spell that allowed her and Vand to close on the Stone Giant. It had been hurling things, first big rocks and then debris. It was a plank from a nearby fence that struck the wizard, opening a sizable gash in his side. Neither Rowan nor Vand had escaped without injury, but the blood soaking her clothing and hair was mostly the giant's.
    Trying not to worry- not that she wanted to worry about the annoying human- she assisted in patching up the other elf and declining help for herself, she bespoke herself a bath and started up. The drying blood was turning stiff and sticky, and she wanted it off.
    It was on the way to her room that Rowan noticed that Llyren's door was open. She heard something from inside and she moved towards it, concerned that someone had taken advantage of the chaos to go through the wizard's things. Angry, and surprised at herself because of it, she pushed open the door and stopped dead, seeing who was there.
    Of course it was only Llyren himself. What made her stop was something else. His robes were gone, leaving his upper body bare. Rowan had a perfect view of the wound in his side, and how it was slowly closing with a soft, wet sound. She watched in sickened fascination until it was totally finished, thoughts chasing themselves. It's not possible! was followed by, but of course it's magic. Then she looked up and met his eyes. Hers questioned, his were simply tired and wary.
    Stepping in, she closed the door behind her but stayed in front of it, right hand gripping the latch. He only watched her quietly, expectant. “So… you're okay then?” was what she finally asked, her voice little more than a whisper, throat sore from the fight. It certainly wasn't what he expected her to say, she could see that, and she didn't care. They were both too tired at the present to resume their usual antagonism.
    He gave a simple shrug in agreement with her query, and then the moment stretched out. Rowan shifted uncomfortably, then was reprieved. The sound of footsteps approached from outside, and a knock resonated at her door. Ducking her head by way of taking leave, Rowan opened the door, backing out and leaving the wizard to think by himself.

    The next morning Rowan was awakened by a sound at her door. She'd been dreaming again and her pillow was damp under her cheek. With a few swipes at her face she got up to see what was at the door, and noticed a piece of paper on the floor in front of it before she actually opened it. Bending down, she picked up the folded parchment and carried it back to the bed, sitting so the light from the window fell over her back.
    It was a simply worded request from Llyren that she meet with him downstairs at her convenience, and told her that they would then go to meet with Vand. She briefly wondered what the wizard wanted with the elf, then shrugged it off as she usually did such things. Soon enough she would know.
    When she came downstairs, her long hair out of its usual braid because it was still wet, Llyren sat near the door. He looked up as soon as she appeared at the top of the steps and watched her steadily until she reached him. She resisted the urge to check that everything was in place when she finally stopped, his stare was making her so twitchy. Treating him to a cool look, she smiled inside when it was returned by his cheshire smile. They were back on their old footing of daggers drawn and Rowan felt inexplicably better. ~Shall we go?~ she heard him say neutrally in her mind, and she frowned, sweeping past him and out of the inn.
    Soon after they walked in the streets, towards the fighting school. He would know, she thought, that what she had seen last night was on her mind but she didn't want to speak of it. In many ways, that was what bothered her the most- the thought that he could know what she was thinking, and she didn't know when he was listening to her and when he wasn't. When she had to second-guess every stray thought, it made her nervous and angry. A ferocious valuer of privacy, Rowan was disturbed whenever he mindspoke her. The invasion of her mind bothered her as much or more as an invasion of her body. At this she shuddered and surfaced from her dark musings, slowly noticing that Adric's place was near.
    She also realized that she had left Llyren a bit behind, seeing him a few paces behind her. He too looked thoughtful, and not pleased with his thinking. She almost wondered what he was thinking of to look so, but was also sure she was best served by never asking. She turned into the school, relaxing in the sight of the courtyard even though it was deserted now.
    No, not quite. In the corner, seated quietly on a bench and waiting, was Vand. He looked well, considering the previous day's events, although his face was an unhealthy white even for an elf. Rowan moved across the stones towards his seat, her feet whispering against the ground. She heard the wizard behind her and stopped in front of the elf, waiting. He acknowledged her with a bland nod that she returned, and then looked over her shoulder at Llyren.

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