Chapter Eight
The Mortar That Binds
The present...
“And that's how I met Jisei and Frieden,” I told the necromancer as I forked some meat in my stew with Floga. I put the tip of my knife near my mouth and pulled off the delicious gray deer meat.
“What about the monsters living in the Hills of Hikui-point?” Lyge asked me. “Did you help the priestess complete her mission for her temple-eki?”
“We didn't,” I replied through a mouthful. “Thanks to Frieden, we discovered that the creatures living within the Hills of Hikui-point were natives of the land and hadn't actually attacked anyone except for those who came into their nest. The chieftain of the local village had requested of Jisei's temple-eki that the creatures be eradicated so that they could use the land for farming, but it was against her order's rules to remove peaceful animals to set up farms. We discovered the chieftain had paid off Sister Kurin. The head priestess of Sakura Temple-eki had an addiction to collecting shoes; it didn't matter what kind of shoe, if Sister Kurin saw a pair she had to buy them. We discovered a secret chamber underneath the temple-eki where she kept hundreds of them. Sister Kurin took gold from the chieftain to pay for her habit.”
“How did the barbarian help you discover the creatures were natives of the land and had only attacked those who came into their nest?” Lyge inquired.
I answered, “Frieden is governed by peace even though he's a barbarian. We were all set to run in and attack the beasts when he discovered that they didn't attack us when we entered the Hills of Hikui-point. Jisei was able to communicate with the creatures and discover their plight. Jisei was later banned from doing missions for her temple-eki because she went against the wishes of Sister Kurin. Jisei's order believed the word of the head priestess over hers, so Jisei decided to travel with us and join our party.” I looked around at the faces that reflected the campfire, and I felt my face beam with love and admiration for all of those of my party as I added, “That's how all of us came together.”
Jisei grumbled in her controlled priestess-tone as she tightened her hold on her staff, “I do not see why you bothered to tell them, Ayann, that the spider was the size of your hand if in the same story you tell them that you are going to make the spider bigger and that I later call it the size of my pinky. You might as well be truthful from the start. Actually, I would prefer if you would not include that part in your story. No, you should be forbidden to tell any part of that tale.” Jisei turned to Foi and requested, “Shidesha, can you do something about her stories?”
I had asked her many years earlier what shidesha meant, and she told me in her tongue it means leader.
Amabilidad stated, “My brother will do nothing about Ayann's tales until she tells one of him that isn't to his liking and so far, all of her tales have my brother standing in a good light.”
Frieden spoke as he crossed his massive arms, “I would have to agree with Jisei. We need to do something about Ayann's tales. For one, I didn't shrill like a woman. I used a barbarian battle cry to confuse my foe as the Kittle Cockroach first came at me. It worked too for the beast didn't come at us for a few minutes and allowed us time to prepare for its attack.”
I said, “It sounded more like the shrill of a Swamp Mouse as a Glades Hawk snatches it up with its claws than a battle cry.” I turned to the priestess and questioned her, “What do you think, Jisei? How would you describe Frieden's scream?”
She glanced at the barbarian who looked to her for assistance; Jisei must have decided to use a united front, but her order had to be truthful, so she replied, “I would have to say I remember little about that day.”
“You remembered the size of the spider,” I said. “Are you sure you're not siding with Frieden so that Foi will order me to cease my tales?”
I could tell that Jisei wanted to stand and smack the tip of her staff on the ground, but she kept her composure and asked me, “Are you calling me a liar? Are you questioning my integrity?”
I saw that I upset her and that wasn't my intent. There were no outward emotions coming from her restrained face, but I could tell she was deeply upset with me, so I decided to back down from my teasing, believing maybe I had gone too far, and I told her, “I would never call you a liar, Jisei. We're sisters, and we should never dishonor each other.”
“If we are sisters, then stop these tales. Over and over you have dishonored me and the others. Can you not tell that your stories upset everyone? Why would you wish to hurt us?”
“Hurt you?” I felt my chest tighten as I again glanced around at the faces of my party and then I spoke, “I didn't realize. I only told those tales so others could see all of you the same way that I do.”
Jisei's tone never changed as she inquired, “Do you see all of us as incompetent buffoons and womanizers?”
Amabilidad admitted, “But I am a womanizer.”
“Stay out of this, archer,” Jisei warned without her voice showing her irritation at Amabilidad.
I didn't know what to say in my defense, so Jisei continued, “Is that what you are saying, Ayann? In none of the details you have spoken have I heard anything that admonishes us. If you wish to no longer hurt us, cease your insulting tales.”
I looked around at everyone for a third time as no one came to my aid. I turned to Foi, but he only watched, seemingly taking no side, so I considered that Jisei was correct in that I was only hurting them when I spoke of them. It was a tradition in my village to tell stories of those we loved and cared about, but if I was only hurting those who I cared about then... I felt ashamed as I told her, “I'll stop.” I stood and told all of them, “I'll never again speak any tales of you.” I felt grievously remorseful that I hadn't noticed their feelings and that I had hurt each of them with tales that should have shown them that I cared about them. I grabbed my sword and shield, and I headed off into the darkness as I said, “I'm sorry.”
As I walked by, Frieden stood and lifted his hand after me as if to say something, but then he turned to the priestess instead and uttered, “Look what you did. You upset, Ayann.”
“Me? What about what you said?” I heard Jisei say.
“She's used to our complaining,” Frieden spoke. “It's what makes telling the story enjoyable to her; she beats us up with her words, that way we know she cares.”
“I only spoke the truth,” Jisei insisted.
Amabilidad inquired, “Are you telling us that when Ayann tells a story that involves you that you feel violated and/or insulted?”
“I am,” Jisei replied. “Every time she tells the story of how we met I feel...”
She paused, and I wondered what she was thinking. Was she searching for how she truly felt or was Jisei only tired of defending what she knew was right?
I heard her say, “Ayann makes me angry at times.”
“This is you angry?” Amabilidad inquired. “It's so hard to tell what mood you're in.”
I continued on and couldn't hear their conversation anymore as I went out to the cliff overlooking the desolate valley of large misshapen and jagged rocks. I stared in their direction as I stood under the moonlight, but I didn't see them. I was too mortified that my fondness for them had been corrupted by what I thought of as light-hearted tales. I didn't know they were demoralizing. A great deal of time passed before I heard the priestess walk up behind me, but I didn't turn to her, hiding that I was near tears.
Jisei started with, “The others believe I was a little harsh in speaking with you.”
“And what do you believe?” I asked.
“I believe...” Jisei stopped her reply, and I didn't know why. If I had been cruel in my stories, then I needed to be told. Jisei started a new sentence with, “Ayann, I spoke falsely before. I do not feel that you are hurtful when you do speak of us in your tales.”
“No, maybe I should stop,” I told her. “It's a little childish, and maybe I should focus on other things.” I didn't kn
ow what else to say, so I spoke, “All of you have heard these stories over and over; you must at least be tired of hearing them.” The wind swept over us, and I heard it rustle through Jisei's robes. I didn't dared look at her, fearing what I might see behind her self-disciplined expression. Jisei had been so angry before in her veiled manner, so I told her, “It's fine; you can return to the others. I'll be back shortly.”
“I am still not used to having others place attention on me,” she said. “I am sorry that I made you feel as though you were hurting us; in truth, and don't tell the others, I enjoy your tales. I feel as if they come from your heart, and they always put a smile on my face even if I fuss at you for talking about me.”
“No. I should stop,” I insisted. “Maybe I was blind to your feelings. I'll cease, so you can go back to the campfire. I'll be back when I...” I felt a tear flow down my cheek and a sob escape my lips. I knew how Jisei hated seeing an explosion of emotions, so I closed my eyes and forced the sadness back. She needed to hurry though; I didn't know how long I could hold back the flow. I spoke, “Really, it's fine. Return to the others. I'll be...”
Jisei did something she had never done before as she took a step forward, invaded what she would call my space, and took one of my hands into her two. I still looked away from her as I wasn't sure what she was doing. At first, I thought she was going to drag me back to the campfire, but she didn't. She held my hand firm and yet gently in her two as she spoke to me. Her words and tone weren't forced or refrained, but what she said next came from her heart as she went against her expressionless manner and articulated with warmth, “Ayann, please do not cry. I am the one who should apologize to you. You befriended me, let me join your party with open arms, and you even call us sisters. What kind of sister would I be if I allowed what I said earlier to hurt you any further? I...” She paused and then said, “Please look at me.”
I turned, and her usual composed expression transformed to one of shock and self-disapproval. I believed she realized how deeply her earlier words had hurt me, and the realization cracked the wall she had around her emotions. I had never seen her lose her poise as she looked as if she would cry too. Jisei uttered in disbelief, “You are actually crying. I do not think I have ever seen you cry. Is this because of what I said? Did I bring Ayann the Great Valkyrie to tears?”
I didn't want to tell her that it was true, so I just stood there and said nothing, trying to hold back my sobs. I didn't want her to feel bad that I was feeling bad.
Jisei looked devastated to see me in such a state, and her restraint melted away as she said, “I did. I did bring you to tears, and I should feel ashamed of myself. Ayann, I am sorry. I am sorry that I am unfeeling at times.” She lost all of her self control and started weeping.
At first, I didn't know what to do. Jisei was always so reserved with her emotions, but now she was like elf archers assaulting a fortress. The arrows of her grief filled the sky and rained upon those in the fortification. Without thinking that this might offend her, I wrapped my arms around her, and we sobbed together. It felt good to cry and that she was there with me to share in our mixture of remorse and absolution. We cried for a while, then we stepped back from one another, and we dried our eyes.
I asked her, “Are you sure you don't mind my tales? I can understand that you might have told me you didn't, only to spare my feelings. I need to know the truth. Do you feel offended?”
“In truth, no,” Jisei told me. “I do feel irritated at times by your teasing, but I also feel that you care about us. I do not know what this party would do without you, Ayann. You seem to be the mortar that binds us together.”
I laughed as I spoke, “I don't believe that's true. Each of you have your own strengths. Though, it would be hard to find a great warrior as myself to replace me. I don't think anyone can make a campfire as I do.”
“Umm... Ayann...”
“Yes.”
“Please do not tell the others of this or anyone else. I would be very embarrassed if it got back to them that I lost my composure.”
“Don't worry,” I told her. “I won't even tell them how you fondled me.”
Her face flushed red as she snapped, “I am going to regret this moment for the rest of my life, am I right?”
“No,” I replied. “I'll keep this between sisters. It's a promise.”
“Well then...” Jisei turned away from me and started back as she said, “We better return before Foi comes looking for us.” I followed after her and then Jisei commented, “I am surprised that he said nothing when you walked off. Why do you suppose he took no sides?”
“I believe he wanted to see what all of you would do to solve our own problems without him interfering. I believe he sees that we have grown as a party and has faith that we can solve our own conflicts if we're allowed the time to do so,” I told her.
“Oh... I hope we passed. I hate letting him down.”
We returned to the campfire and retook our seats. A few awkward minutes went by, and then Lyge must have thought it was a good time to mention, “Look where the moon is now. I will take first watch. The rest of you should get some sleep.”
“You are right,” Foi said. “Let us rest while we can.”
We all gathered close around the fire to sleep. Foi removed only his armor as I spread out a bedroll and blanket for us. He set his sword and shield against his armor that was an arm's length away from where he would bed. He lay down, and I joined him after I removed my own armor. I snuggled up beside him and lay my head on his chest, resting my hand over his heart. He smelled of horse and the oil we rub on our armor. Foi wrapped his arm around me so that my head was cradled in his arm.
“Today was a long day,” I said, scratched a bit of mud that was still on my face, and then added, “I feel as though a boulder monster's sitting on me.”
“Yes, it was a long day,” he told me, leaned in, then quickly pulled back as he said, “You were correct in what you had said at the Duke's castle. The mud does reek.”
“Now who's doing penance?” I questioned him. “You'll have to put up with my smell all night.”
“Don't I always.”
“Hey, not you too.” I turned on my side away from him and pouted as I said, “I do bathe regularly.”
“I know, and I do like your smell,” he said and then added, “When you are not covered in stink mud.” He repositioned himself so that he lay on his side and wrapped his arm around me again. “Was the sword you bought to your liking?”
He always knew my weaknesses, and I quickly faced him as my pout vanished to be replaced by excitement. “It's good steel. It'll serve me well.” I looked into his blue-gray eyes and stated, “You seem a bit out of sorts. Is something wrong?”
Foi told me in a somber tone, “I do not know. Something is nagging at me.”
“Could it be our coming wedding?” I questioned. “Are you getting cold feet?”
“No, it is not that, though, I have been thinking of our future.”
“I have too,” I mischievously said as I rubbed my hand down his chest, to his stomach, and started to venture lower. “Especially our wedding night.”
He gently took that hand and pulled it up to his heart as he told me, “Things like that can wait until we are proper husband and wife.”
“I know; it's just hard to wait,” I told him and then noticed Jisei who slept on the other side of Foi a short distance away from him as she pulled her blanket up and covered her nose. I had known for a long time that she also loved Foi. We both couldn't have him and at one point, I was content to let her pursue him instead of me. She insisted she had no interest in Foi, and her order prohibited marriage. I could see it in her eyes the regret of that decision and that her love for him hadn't changed. It was moments like these that broke my heart. Why did our heart forsake us at times? Why couldn't we love only those who would love us back?
Foi interrupted my th
oughts as he said, “I was thinking a little more into the future. What about children? Do you want any?”
I diverted my eyes from Jisei as she rolled over with her back to us, and I told him, “I want two boys and two girls, and we can live in the castle your father gave you.”
“What about our ventures?” Foi questioned me.
“We can put them on hold till our children are old enough to join their chosen class. We can venture when they are at school, and we can return on their break periods.”
Unknown to me at the time, Frieden also listened in on our conversation and tightened his grip on the ax that laid on his chest. The more me and Foi talked of our marriage and future together, the tighter Frieden's hands clasped his weapon. I guess I was also guilty of not noticing the wants and desires of another's heart.
Amabilidad had enough and snapped, “Can we put your questions on hold or even better, maybe you two can go get a room? What I am trying to say is, will you silence your libido inducing prattle so the rest of us can sleep?!”
Foi lay on his back, and I snuggled close to him again as I whispered, “What about our conversation has gotten him all hot and bothered?”
“For my brother it doesn't take much,” Foi whispered back. “An icy wind over a barren valley can set his fantasies ablaze.”