Chapter Four
I could not sleep properly that night. The thought that someone had been killed within our house was what partly disturbed me as well asthe thought that there was so much about my brother that I did not know.
He was a sorceror.
With the dawning of the morning, I swiftly rose from my sleeping place and hauled one of Godric's cloaks around me to protect myself from the morning frost. I did not look back at Godric to see if he were still asleep. I did not really care.
The streets were near empty when I reached them. I recognised two women from the washing plce yesterday, stringing out fish from their husband's latest catches. They smiled and waved at me and so I smiled and waved back.
I began to explore Pomerania. I had changed my mind about it and decided that it was most definitely a town, if not a small city.
I went through the streets and had to remark every house I passed so that I would not get lost. Being so early, the muddy streets were hard but I knew that once the trading began, it would get churned up into sludge by horses and carts. Eventually, I found that the strong salt air was getting more and more salty and smelling more and more of fish. As I turned round one corner, I found out why.
Pomerania, I now had to admit was a true city. In fact, it was more than that. It was the busiest port I had ever seen.
And the first one, If I was to be honest.
There were ships of two main kinds: fishing vessels and evil looking, slim- lined beauties that seemed to slice through the water like a knife guts fish. I could only stare at the number of people about. It was still quite early in the morning and I knew that it would get a lot more crowded as the day drew on.
Men went barechested here, something that I found still shocked me. It was going to take a lot of effort to forget the old ways: If I didn't, I would become an old woman before my time.
The fishermen shouted coarsely to one another and threw their nets over to each other before dumping them on the side where their young women would take them away to mend them. I kept away from the fishermen: everyone knows that they will steal anything.
I edge around the wharf, trying to avoid them and also not to look at their barechests lest one of their women think I am trying to steal him (even that is wishful thinking, though: I am much too plain).
I eventually get round to a jetty and sit on it's edge as there is no boat to come. One of my legs begin to swing over the edge of it's own accord and I watch the sea folk unload their wares, go back with their wives to their homes, with a detatched eye. I am not used to feeling like this; melancholy usually annoys me and if I should annoy myself, well then, I'm in some trouble.
I did not notice that someone was approaching me until they sat down. Startled, I looked up at the person, a young man who grinned apologetically.
"It seems I have made a mistake," he said. He seemed friendly, but I was too busy staring. There were ochre lines that swirled in strange patterns across his face, the tips ending in a strange turquoise colour.
"Oh?" I said eventually. His hazel eyes flashed in amusement.
"You are, however, Gelda, sister of Godric, are you not?" He asked.
I nodded.
"Ah," he said. "Well then, may I be so bold as to ask that you cease your philosophical wanderings - as you so obviously were, as you didn't realise my presence until I was well sat here - and guide me to where he is presently resting?"
Before I could open my mouth, a familiar voice behind me said, "She won't have to. I'm right here."
The tattooed boy and I leapt up and he gave a small bow to Godric who looked amused as well. They both seemed to know each other.
"How is Salazar?" Godric said swiftly. The youth chuckled.
"The same as always. He sent me here to get a reply from you as to what happened to Godfrey."
"Godfrey?" Godric frowned slightly.
"He belonged to one of Lady Rowena's livery and had been sent with more money for your supplies." A shadow fell across the tattooed boy's face. "He sent a pigeon saying that he had landed safely here, but we hadn't heard anything of him since."
"Ah."
The boy looked mildly frightened for a moment. "Why the 'ah', my lord? What has happened?"
"He was killed."
The boy said something in a strange language under his breath which I could tell were mild swear words. "The money?"
Godric gave a cold smile. "I have it. I killed the man who killed your Godfrey. I have the message as well."
"Praise be!" The youth exclaimed.
"This does mean," Godfric went on, frowning again, "that you are in danger."
The boy gave a wave of his hand and a sound remarkably like hissing came from his mouth. "That is no problem to me. If I die, I die. It will show that Salazar was right and I am getting too slow and proud."
My brother laughed out loud. "Salazar said that? Yes, that sounds like him. I have never met someone so determined to translate the silver lining of a cloud to mean a thunderstorm." The youth chuckled as well.
"Who is Salazar?" I said quickly.
"A friend of mine who you will meet in a months time," Godric assured me. "You will know him when you see him and when you do, you will know that you can trust him. I owe him many favours and he likewise." He chuckled again.
I turned to the youth who grinned in approval.
"Is he your master?" I asked. He shook his head.
"He is my uncle." Before I could ask my second question, he added, "I got the tattoo's a long time ago, when I was very small: my uncle, Salazar, didn't do them." Turning back to Godric, he said, "I must go now; I see all is well."
"Be careful," Godric warned.
"We are always careful," the youth said. "But it is too cold and far from true land here: I must go quickly before I shrivel up," and with that, he gave a shout of laughter, nodded finally, turned and made his way back to the ships. Before I knew it, he had vanished.
"Who was he?" I asked my brother as he himself turned away, indicating that we go home together.
"His name is Slytherine Kale. His people always put the family name first, so I suppose his actual name is Kale Slytherine." Despite the fact that he was talking and walking quite quickly, he did not seem to be out of breath.
I piped up, "Would you be Fordsson Godric?"
He laughed again, "Aye. You'd be Fordsdaughter Gelda."
I smiled a small smile to myself. I rather liked that.
I did not bother to remarkt he houses that we passed: Godric seemed to know where he was going and I wondered if he had ever been to this port before.
The streets were beginning to fill up with people. I saw housewives sweep out their homes and husbands, chickens and children. Old men plced straight, short planks of wood atop overturned barrels to play chess. Young girls played with their dolls and older girls flirted with the older boys. It reminded me all very forcibly of our own village that we had left, but on a smaller scale. Tears found their way to my eyes and I began to choke.
"Where are we going from here?" I asked Godric eventually.
"From Pomerania?" He asked gravely. I nodded.
He sighed before answering. "Tonight, we will set sail in one of the Raider ships and head for Angleland."
I frowned. "I have never heard of the place."
He snorted. "Yes you have. They pride themselves for being select but many of them are the gets of Greeks and Romans and their slaves. They are a nice people in both senses of the word, but they like to hide it beneath their fear."
"Of what?"
"Raiders. Themselves. Old ways exchanged for new ways exchanged for ways newer or perhaps older still." He sighed. "Mish-mash people."
I was still frowning. "Like the pale ones to the West?" I asked.
"Aye." He smiled.
"Like Fordsleader Hound?" I dared. This time Godric shook his head slowly.
"I hope he is happy wherever he is, though." And we made our way back to our lodgings in silence.
*
We ate our supper in the tavern on my request. I wanted to at least see these people despite the fact that they were vulgar and loud. How long would it take to reach Angleland? I would be surrounded by the same people everyday and the sea, never changing.
Then fear clutched at my belly. What if there was a storm? What if we were to be tossed off the ship, tossed into the sea? Despite all my courage, I still feared Death. I still feared whatever path I would take to Death. If I were as cleverly pious as Kelka, I would not fear it. But I wasn't pious, clever or anything like that, I was, I thought to myself, foolishly proud and fearful.
I sighed deeply and continued to chew at my fish stew: the catch from the morning had been large, so the whole town feasted on the stuff.
Godric put his head closer to mine, worry in his eyes. "What is wrong, Ahatti?" Startled, I looked up at him: it felt like ages since he had last called me that.
I sucked in my lips. "I'm scared: what should happen if we were to die, or one of your so-called friends would turn treacherous. It does happen. Why are we going to Angleland anyway?"
He put down his mug of ale calmly and swallowed.
"We won't die, Ahatti. Not yet. And none of my so-called friends, as you put it, will turn treacherous. It is not possible. There are some bonds which run far deeper than an ordinary oath, Ahatti, as you will soon learn," he attempted a smile at me.
I was not satisfied. "Were you planning to go as you were had the Raiders not come?"
He picked up his mug again and drank. After swallowing, he hesitated "Aye."
My throat tightened.
"Why did you hesitate?" I asked.
He looked away and gave a quiet sigh. We both seemed to be suffering from some affliction of the gut: our melancholy was unbearable.
"They were not Raiders," he said quietly. "They were... of the same people who killed Godfrey and of the man who tried to kill me." He looked at me, his dark brown eyes still. The fear that had clutched at my belly was worming it's way upwards to my heart. I felt as if I had frozen. "They are the opponents of my friends and I. They want us dead because we're not doing what they want us to do. That is all I can say right now: the reality is much more complicated."
"What do they want you to do?" I asked softly.
His eyes darkened in anger. "They want us to abandon our plans to help... people. They want to keep the knowledge for themselves and keep others in thrall of them. The way the dark haired soldiers did for their Caesar... no, you are not old enough to have heard the stories properly yet."
Something seemed to click in my mind. "Do you mean other sorcerors? You want to help some sorcerors and others don't want you to."
Godric looked at me, eyes bright. He nodded before clearing his throat and saying, "Aye."
I was silent for a bit. "Was that why you tried to teach me how to fight with a sword? To defend myself?" He nodded again.
"You would have the right build; you are growing into yourself, and you don't notice it. When we're on the ship, I will train you up properly. The ship belongs to a Raider Merchant and he has many stops to make." Godric grinned. "I know the sea life will toughen you up and you will not be the only woman aboard so you will have plenty of your own for company: they are much like our own women, the Raiderwomen, only they speak differently and are quieter in the presence of men." He leaned back and closed his eyes.
But that wasn't what worried me. There was something else on my mind.
"Godric," I said finally. He rose his eyebrows. "You are a sorceror and my brother. I am your true sister, I'm not some thrall's get off our Papa. Wouldn't that make me a sorceror too, or can only men do... that?"
He blinked at me and then began to chuckle. "Do you remember Lady Rowena who Kale and I mentioned?" He asked. "She is by far more powerful than me, not that that is saying much: most people are better than I. However, she is most definitely a woman, and no hag either. She has Caesar-blood in her, which adds to her beauty. You will see." Godric then paused. "Many people can become sorcerors: some do. Others either cannot, or will not. We have the same blood, it is true: why, perhaps between sword practise, I shall teach you how to read!" His smile widened.
My cheeks flushed. "You treat it as if it is a jest."
"And I am sorry if it upsets you. But yes, I shall teach you how to read and how to fight properly. On the ship, we will have a lot of time to ourselves." He swallowed the last of his stew and bread, gulped down with the dregs of ale. I followed suit, knowing that that was his way of saying we should be getting our things ready.
*
Godric told me that I should pack my dresses at the bottom of my bags and wear leggings, a sleeveless tunic and a long armed, shorter tunic tucked into my leggings. He bade me dress simply and that the only wealth I should wear would be in my brooch and bracelets. Tucked into my belt, he added my ivory handled knife.
"I want you to dress like a man," he said, "but show that you are a woman."
I brushed out my hair which, I was delighted to see, had grown maginifcently, cascading down a little past my shoulders. I placed it in a woman's knot at the back of my head, so that the bundle would touch the nape of my neck. Godric seemed to approve.
We packed the little food that we had: although we were guests on the ship, it was mere politeness to share some of our food.
I did not see what Godric had packed, though not for lack of trying. I realised then that I never truly knew what it was that took up so much space in his baggage. I decided not to be so lazy and disrespectful.
Despite it being so late, I was not tired. My fingers quickly sped over every buckle and strag that would keep our baggages safe. My eyes were on the lookout for anything we may have left behind.
We crept out into the darkness. Watchmen nodded at us sleepily, not bothering to hassle us. Thieves would not be able to see us: several times I could see their eyes glaze over my brother and I. That was when I truly appreciated that he was, indeed, a sorceror.
We finally reached the port. Two thickset looking seamen were standing by a boat, the only men present who were even mildly quiet. Godric went over to them and spoke hurridely and quietly. They nodded continuosly, which I took as a good sign.
Godric beckoned me over. "Get in the boat," he hissed. "I'll find you. I just need to get our horse and cart." H egave a nod to the seamen and vanished into the darkness.
"In you go, Fordslady," one said quietly and helped me climb over. Safely inside the boat which actually had more space than I had thought, I stared at him: only young Fordsmen called a village woman 'Fordslady'. I gave him a small smile and found a small area where I could snuggle into with my things.
Soon, I heard the clipping of horses hooves on the streets and a plank was slammed upon the edge of our boat for the horses to climb up; I had never seen a horse that looked so spectacular: It was probably the moonlight.
Behind the horse came my brother and he was holding what looked like wheels under his arm. The two seamen followed him and stacked more pieces of wood witht he wheels against the side of the ship. Godric grinned at me and approached where I was, taking a seat by me.
I gave a small smile.
"Rest, Ahatti," he whispered. "You are going to need it."
~
Sorry I haven't updated for so long...
I could not sleep properly that night. The thought that someone had been killed within our house was what partly disturbed me as well asthe thought that there was so much about my brother that I did not know.
He was a sorceror.
With the dawning of the morning, I swiftly rose from my sleeping place and hauled one of Godric's cloaks around me to protect myself from the morning frost. I did not look back at Godric to see if he were still asleep. I did not really care.
The streets were near empty when I reached them. I recognised two women from the washing plce yesterday, stringing out fish from their husband's latest catches. They smiled and waved at me and so I smiled and waved back.
I began to explore Pomerania. I had changed my mind about it and decided that it was most definitely a town, if not a small city.
I went through the streets and had to remark every house I passed so that I would not get lost. Being so early, the muddy streets were hard but I knew that once the trading began, it would get churned up into sludge by horses and carts. Eventually, I found that the strong salt air was getting more and more salty and smelling more and more of fish. As I turned round one corner, I found out why.
Pomerania, I now had to admit was a true city. In fact, it was more than that. It was the busiest port I had ever seen.
And the first one, If I was to be honest.
There were ships of two main kinds: fishing vessels and evil looking, slim- lined beauties that seemed to slice through the water like a knife guts fish. I could only stare at the number of people about. It was still quite early in the morning and I knew that it would get a lot more crowded as the day drew on.
Men went barechested here, something that I found still shocked me. It was going to take a lot of effort to forget the old ways: If I didn't, I would become an old woman before my time.
The fishermen shouted coarsely to one another and threw their nets over to each other before dumping them on the side where their young women would take them away to mend them. I kept away from the fishermen: everyone knows that they will steal anything.
I edge around the wharf, trying to avoid them and also not to look at their barechests lest one of their women think I am trying to steal him (even that is wishful thinking, though: I am much too plain).
I eventually get round to a jetty and sit on it's edge as there is no boat to come. One of my legs begin to swing over the edge of it's own accord and I watch the sea folk unload their wares, go back with their wives to their homes, with a detatched eye. I am not used to feeling like this; melancholy usually annoys me and if I should annoy myself, well then, I'm in some trouble.
I did not notice that someone was approaching me until they sat down. Startled, I looked up at the person, a young man who grinned apologetically.
"It seems I have made a mistake," he said. He seemed friendly, but I was too busy staring. There were ochre lines that swirled in strange patterns across his face, the tips ending in a strange turquoise colour.
"Oh?" I said eventually. His hazel eyes flashed in amusement.
"You are, however, Gelda, sister of Godric, are you not?" He asked.
I nodded.
"Ah," he said. "Well then, may I be so bold as to ask that you cease your philosophical wanderings - as you so obviously were, as you didn't realise my presence until I was well sat here - and guide me to where he is presently resting?"
Before I could open my mouth, a familiar voice behind me said, "She won't have to. I'm right here."
The tattooed boy and I leapt up and he gave a small bow to Godric who looked amused as well. They both seemed to know each other.
"How is Salazar?" Godric said swiftly. The youth chuckled.
"The same as always. He sent me here to get a reply from you as to what happened to Godfrey."
"Godfrey?" Godric frowned slightly.
"He belonged to one of Lady Rowena's livery and had been sent with more money for your supplies." A shadow fell across the tattooed boy's face. "He sent a pigeon saying that he had landed safely here, but we hadn't heard anything of him since."
"Ah."
The boy looked mildly frightened for a moment. "Why the 'ah', my lord? What has happened?"
"He was killed."
The boy said something in a strange language under his breath which I could tell were mild swear words. "The money?"
Godric gave a cold smile. "I have it. I killed the man who killed your Godfrey. I have the message as well."
"Praise be!" The youth exclaimed.
"This does mean," Godfric went on, frowning again, "that you are in danger."
The boy gave a wave of his hand and a sound remarkably like hissing came from his mouth. "That is no problem to me. If I die, I die. It will show that Salazar was right and I am getting too slow and proud."
My brother laughed out loud. "Salazar said that? Yes, that sounds like him. I have never met someone so determined to translate the silver lining of a cloud to mean a thunderstorm." The youth chuckled as well.
"Who is Salazar?" I said quickly.
"A friend of mine who you will meet in a months time," Godric assured me. "You will know him when you see him and when you do, you will know that you can trust him. I owe him many favours and he likewise." He chuckled again.
I turned to the youth who grinned in approval.
"Is he your master?" I asked. He shook his head.
"He is my uncle." Before I could ask my second question, he added, "I got the tattoo's a long time ago, when I was very small: my uncle, Salazar, didn't do them." Turning back to Godric, he said, "I must go now; I see all is well."
"Be careful," Godric warned.
"We are always careful," the youth said. "But it is too cold and far from true land here: I must go quickly before I shrivel up," and with that, he gave a shout of laughter, nodded finally, turned and made his way back to the ships. Before I knew it, he had vanished.
"Who was he?" I asked my brother as he himself turned away, indicating that we go home together.
"His name is Slytherine Kale. His people always put the family name first, so I suppose his actual name is Kale Slytherine." Despite the fact that he was talking and walking quite quickly, he did not seem to be out of breath.
I piped up, "Would you be Fordsson Godric?"
He laughed again, "Aye. You'd be Fordsdaughter Gelda."
I smiled a small smile to myself. I rather liked that.
I did not bother to remarkt he houses that we passed: Godric seemed to know where he was going and I wondered if he had ever been to this port before.
The streets were beginning to fill up with people. I saw housewives sweep out their homes and husbands, chickens and children. Old men plced straight, short planks of wood atop overturned barrels to play chess. Young girls played with their dolls and older girls flirted with the older boys. It reminded me all very forcibly of our own village that we had left, but on a smaller scale. Tears found their way to my eyes and I began to choke.
"Where are we going from here?" I asked Godric eventually.
"From Pomerania?" He asked gravely. I nodded.
He sighed before answering. "Tonight, we will set sail in one of the Raider ships and head for Angleland."
I frowned. "I have never heard of the place."
He snorted. "Yes you have. They pride themselves for being select but many of them are the gets of Greeks and Romans and their slaves. They are a nice people in both senses of the word, but they like to hide it beneath their fear."
"Of what?"
"Raiders. Themselves. Old ways exchanged for new ways exchanged for ways newer or perhaps older still." He sighed. "Mish-mash people."
I was still frowning. "Like the pale ones to the West?" I asked.
"Aye." He smiled.
"Like Fordsleader Hound?" I dared. This time Godric shook his head slowly.
"I hope he is happy wherever he is, though." And we made our way back to our lodgings in silence.
*
We ate our supper in the tavern on my request. I wanted to at least see these people despite the fact that they were vulgar and loud. How long would it take to reach Angleland? I would be surrounded by the same people everyday and the sea, never changing.
Then fear clutched at my belly. What if there was a storm? What if we were to be tossed off the ship, tossed into the sea? Despite all my courage, I still feared Death. I still feared whatever path I would take to Death. If I were as cleverly pious as Kelka, I would not fear it. But I wasn't pious, clever or anything like that, I was, I thought to myself, foolishly proud and fearful.
I sighed deeply and continued to chew at my fish stew: the catch from the morning had been large, so the whole town feasted on the stuff.
Godric put his head closer to mine, worry in his eyes. "What is wrong, Ahatti?" Startled, I looked up at him: it felt like ages since he had last called me that.
I sucked in my lips. "I'm scared: what should happen if we were to die, or one of your so-called friends would turn treacherous. It does happen. Why are we going to Angleland anyway?"
He put down his mug of ale calmly and swallowed.
"We won't die, Ahatti. Not yet. And none of my so-called friends, as you put it, will turn treacherous. It is not possible. There are some bonds which run far deeper than an ordinary oath, Ahatti, as you will soon learn," he attempted a smile at me.
I was not satisfied. "Were you planning to go as you were had the Raiders not come?"
He picked up his mug again and drank. After swallowing, he hesitated "Aye."
My throat tightened.
"Why did you hesitate?" I asked.
He looked away and gave a quiet sigh. We both seemed to be suffering from some affliction of the gut: our melancholy was unbearable.
"They were not Raiders," he said quietly. "They were... of the same people who killed Godfrey and of the man who tried to kill me." He looked at me, his dark brown eyes still. The fear that had clutched at my belly was worming it's way upwards to my heart. I felt as if I had frozen. "They are the opponents of my friends and I. They want us dead because we're not doing what they want us to do. That is all I can say right now: the reality is much more complicated."
"What do they want you to do?" I asked softly.
His eyes darkened in anger. "They want us to abandon our plans to help... people. They want to keep the knowledge for themselves and keep others in thrall of them. The way the dark haired soldiers did for their Caesar... no, you are not old enough to have heard the stories properly yet."
Something seemed to click in my mind. "Do you mean other sorcerors? You want to help some sorcerors and others don't want you to."
Godric looked at me, eyes bright. He nodded before clearing his throat and saying, "Aye."
I was silent for a bit. "Was that why you tried to teach me how to fight with a sword? To defend myself?" He nodded again.
"You would have the right build; you are growing into yourself, and you don't notice it. When we're on the ship, I will train you up properly. The ship belongs to a Raider Merchant and he has many stops to make." Godric grinned. "I know the sea life will toughen you up and you will not be the only woman aboard so you will have plenty of your own for company: they are much like our own women, the Raiderwomen, only they speak differently and are quieter in the presence of men." He leaned back and closed his eyes.
But that wasn't what worried me. There was something else on my mind.
"Godric," I said finally. He rose his eyebrows. "You are a sorceror and my brother. I am your true sister, I'm not some thrall's get off our Papa. Wouldn't that make me a sorceror too, or can only men do... that?"
He blinked at me and then began to chuckle. "Do you remember Lady Rowena who Kale and I mentioned?" He asked. "She is by far more powerful than me, not that that is saying much: most people are better than I. However, she is most definitely a woman, and no hag either. She has Caesar-blood in her, which adds to her beauty. You will see." Godric then paused. "Many people can become sorcerors: some do. Others either cannot, or will not. We have the same blood, it is true: why, perhaps between sword practise, I shall teach you how to read!" His smile widened.
My cheeks flushed. "You treat it as if it is a jest."
"And I am sorry if it upsets you. But yes, I shall teach you how to read and how to fight properly. On the ship, we will have a lot of time to ourselves." He swallowed the last of his stew and bread, gulped down with the dregs of ale. I followed suit, knowing that that was his way of saying we should be getting our things ready.
*
Godric told me that I should pack my dresses at the bottom of my bags and wear leggings, a sleeveless tunic and a long armed, shorter tunic tucked into my leggings. He bade me dress simply and that the only wealth I should wear would be in my brooch and bracelets. Tucked into my belt, he added my ivory handled knife.
"I want you to dress like a man," he said, "but show that you are a woman."
I brushed out my hair which, I was delighted to see, had grown maginifcently, cascading down a little past my shoulders. I placed it in a woman's knot at the back of my head, so that the bundle would touch the nape of my neck. Godric seemed to approve.
We packed the little food that we had: although we were guests on the ship, it was mere politeness to share some of our food.
I did not see what Godric had packed, though not for lack of trying. I realised then that I never truly knew what it was that took up so much space in his baggage. I decided not to be so lazy and disrespectful.
Despite it being so late, I was not tired. My fingers quickly sped over every buckle and strag that would keep our baggages safe. My eyes were on the lookout for anything we may have left behind.
We crept out into the darkness. Watchmen nodded at us sleepily, not bothering to hassle us. Thieves would not be able to see us: several times I could see their eyes glaze over my brother and I. That was when I truly appreciated that he was, indeed, a sorceror.
We finally reached the port. Two thickset looking seamen were standing by a boat, the only men present who were even mildly quiet. Godric went over to them and spoke hurridely and quietly. They nodded continuosly, which I took as a good sign.
Godric beckoned me over. "Get in the boat," he hissed. "I'll find you. I just need to get our horse and cart." H egave a nod to the seamen and vanished into the darkness.
"In you go, Fordslady," one said quietly and helped me climb over. Safely inside the boat which actually had more space than I had thought, I stared at him: only young Fordsmen called a village woman 'Fordslady'. I gave him a small smile and found a small area where I could snuggle into with my things.
Soon, I heard the clipping of horses hooves on the streets and a plank was slammed upon the edge of our boat for the horses to climb up; I had never seen a horse that looked so spectacular: It was probably the moonlight.
Behind the horse came my brother and he was holding what looked like wheels under his arm. The two seamen followed him and stacked more pieces of wood witht he wheels against the side of the ship. Godric grinned at me and approached where I was, taking a seat by me.
I gave a small smile.
"Rest, Ahatti," he whispered. "You are going to need it."
~
Sorry I haven't updated for so long...