Chapter 1: Dom, jilted.
When Dom got back, the men put all their efforts into filling the silence. They told dirty jokes. They sang dirty songs. Wolset started a drunken jig in the middle of the barracks, and he wasn't even drunk. Dom smiled a bit, just very slightly. Someone handed him a jug and he drank deeply from it, then coughed. Whiskey. He decided it was probably a good idea to drink some more. Maybe the whole jug. You see, he'd just found out, on his return to Corus, that the lady he'd been courting was now betrothed to someone else.
Lerant came over and sat next to Dom. "Well," he said, "what do you expect? You were gone for a year and a half. And if I know anything about women—" (here Dom gave him a look) "—it's that they, you know—" Lerant leaned closer and it became apparent that he'd been eating onions, "—they have an expiry date. They can't just wait around forever, you know. They lose their (flourishing with squiggly fingers) bloom." He paused for a moment. Then he said again, "Yeah, their bloom," except this time with a more rude gesture.
"Have you been eating onions?" asked Dom. He had emptied the jug and was now quite drunk.
Lerant said that he had. "But anyway, when you look at this later, and it might not be tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that, or the day after tomorrow after that, after…" Lerant forgot what he'd been saying and started on a different line of thought. "But really, Dom, did you really want a wife named Vera? I mean, really? Vera? Dom and Vera?"
Wolset stopped dancing. "Vera is a lovely name. It means 'faith.' It's a lovely name. In fact, any man here who doubts the loveliness of the name 'Vera', I cannot call my friend."
Lerant considered this. "But would you marry a Vera?"
"Certainly not," said Wolset.
"Well," said Lerant. "There you go, Dom! You've dodged an arrow!"
Dom stared miserably at the floor.
Lerant tried one last time. "Look at the bright side, Dom! Since you're not getting married, you get to stay with us lads!" Everyone cheered and there was much merriment, and even Dom started to smile. He slung an arm around Lerant's shoulders.
"You're alright, Lerant," he said.
"Okay but don't be gay about it," said Lerant.
In the morning, when Dom woke very late indeed, Neal was sitting at his bedside with a steaming mug and an expression of concern. Maybe there was some disdain in there, too. Yes, there definitely was some disdain in Neal's expression. "You smell like shit," he said. "And onions. Have you been eating onions?"
Dom swore at his cousin and took the mug. Then he gagged and gave it back. Then he took the mug again and drained it.
"I heard about Lady Vera. Tough break."
Dom pressed his face into the pillow and muttered, "I was kind of expecting it, after so long." He looked up. "Still, she didn't even mention it in her letters. What kind of a woman—" He buried his face in the pillow again when a pain shot through his temples.
"It doesn't sound like she was much worth it, in the end," said Neal softly.
Dom nodded. "She had a great ass, though."
"She did. But you know, great asses don't last. And great asses aren't really worth much if you can't trust them." Dom looked up. "That came out wrong," said Neal.
"S'alright. I know what you mean."
"Who's she marrying, anyway?"
"A Minchy."
Neal sighed. "There're just too many goddamn Minchy's in this country."
"So mote it be."
Neal started to get some clothes together for Dom, who was still motionless in the bed. He could have been dead. Neal slapped him on the ass. "Come on, cousin, it's time to get your ass out of bed. Face the world."
"Garrr," said Dom. He pushed himself up on his forearms and pushed back the sheet, hauled his feet over and down to the floor. For a long time, he stood completely naked in the middle of his quarters, staring at the wall. He didn't notice Neal standing next to him, holding out a pair of breeches. "Vera of HaMinch," said Dom.
Normally, Neal really wouldn't care about seeing Dom naked. But it was cold that morning, and it was having an effect. "Vera… of HaMinch," Dom said again.
"Would you just put the breeches on, you twat?"
Dom put the breeches on. He laced them by himself without much trouble. Overall, his hangover coordination wasn't that bad. "So cousin," he said, "I thought you were still at New Hope. Have you got leave or something?"
"Would you believe it? Me and Kel, even Merric. For a whole week. Wyldon took over at the fort."
"That sounds very unlikely."
"Yes, it does. But it happened."
"Even Kel?"
"And Merric."
"I've always liked Kel. Haven't seen her in ages. Merric seems an alright sort of fellow."
"You should join us for dinner tonight. We're going to the Jugged Hare. You like the Jugged Hare. And you know, Kel was in a similar situation to yours once. She'll probably know how you feel."
Dom gave Neal a look that said he was sceptical about feelings. But he did say, "Alright, I'll be there. I might be a bit late, though." Neal nodded. Then Dom said to Neal, "I think, though, that I probably should have put on a loincloth before I put on the breeches."
"Is that what you usually do?"
"Almost always."
"Well, you've got to do it all over again, then. And do it right this time."
Dom said something very rude to Neal, but Neal forgave him. He's nice like that.
