(-a/n- I'm so sorry, this chapter has been half-written for over a week, but I could never find enough time to sit down and finish it…Anyway, it's done now, and hopefully I'll get another chapter up next weekend ;D
Also citrusfruit is making me a cover for Fallen, which is exciting :D Um…yeah that's all I've got to say…
Thanks to all these lovely people below, I loved every one of your reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy this fic.
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Confusedknight xxx
Upsweep, swipe down and out, jab, rotate and back to the centre again. Kel's limbs performed the drill effortlessly, her kinaesthetic senses feeling the movement rather than consciously following the pattern.
She heard footfalls on the dry earth and spun to face Jacqui, sheathing her sword in one smooth movement.
'What're you doing out here,' Kel asked concernedly. 'You should be resting.'
'Nonsense,' replied Jacqui, 'I've done nothing but rest these past few days.' Kel looked as though she were about to argue, so Jacqui quickly said; 'Eron was hoping you could go over to Redroc and fetch the scythe blade that he sent to be repaired.'
'The goats-'
'Will be perfectly fine under my care,' Jacqui interrupted.
'You're meant to be resting,' Kel reminded the older woman.
'It's not exactly a strenuous activity. I'll be fine. Go on, off you go.' She shooed Kel away, coughing.
Jacqui's chesty coughs followed Kel as she made her way up the path towards the cottage. She hesitated, turning back to look at the sick woman, but Jacqui motioned that she was fine. Kel sighed and continued up the path, shaking her head slightly.
'You can take Dusty if you want,' offered Eron as Kel entered the farmyard. 'It's only a five minute ride to Redroc.'
Kel nodded and collected the grey pony from the lean-to stable. Flinging the saddle onto his small back she kneed the pony in his ribs, forcing him to exhale the breath that he'd been holding so she could tighten the girth.
Eron chuckled at the disapproving look on the pony's face. 'She's seen that one before,' he told the pony as Kel swung herself onto it's dappled grey back.
'Come on boy,' Kel murmured under her breath as she checked the saddle and adjusted her seat. Squeezing gently with her legs she persuaded the lazy pony to head off down the lane.
'See you later on' Eron called after her, returning to his work.
Kel waved at Isra, Hal and Meah as she passed, and all three of them stopped their game to wave back. Smiling, Kel kicked the small pony into a trot, guiding it up the path and over the hill into the next valley. The mountain pony was sure-footed and together they negotiated their way down the steep path that led into Redroc.
She had only been to the village three times before. It consisted of no more than six buildings cluttered together as the majority of the villagers lived in the homesteads that lay scattered across the Dundine hills.
Most families grew their own food; potatoes and such like, and Kel was surprised at how self-sufficient a small village like Redroc could be. Wool from the goats and sheep were used to make items of clothing, as were the cotton flaxes that were grown on lower pastures. Leather from the hides of cows supplied the tanner, allowing him to make shoes, reins and saddles, whilst the meat and milk from the large animals went towards feeding the people.
A family who possessed the healing gift grew herbs and spices to make medicines for common illnesses, and assisted at the birthing of the village's mothers, as well as aiding at a difficult lambing or calving.
On this market day the rowdy voices of the village people rung out loud across the green, laced with the thick accent of the hills-people. Villagers of all shapes and sizes milled about, tending to chat rather than discuss business. Every now and again raucous peals of laughter sounded from where the ladies of the village gossiped in the shade of a house. Kel blended into the scene; dressed as they were in simple clothing, her hair loose, only the sword that hung at her hip indicated that she was anything other than an ordinary village girl.
Kel wove in and out of the people, declining a pastry that a small boy was trying to sell her, searching for the smithy.
It had not been this busy the last time Kel had been here, but today was the day before the Harvest began. Kel had learnt that the "Harvest" was a weeklong festival, celebrating the good fortunes of the people that year. Everyone, young and old would help to bring in the produce and in the evenings they would all feast together around large bonfires telling stories and singing.
The excitement that Kel could sense amongst the villagers was identical to the way Hal and Isra had been all week; evidently this was an extremely important part of the villager's calendar. Indeed, Jacqui had taken measurements for Kel only the other day, saying that Kel would need something to wear on the final night of the festival.
Spotting the blacksmith's she tethered Dusty to a post and ducked into the shop, blinking and straining her eyes, trying to see in the sudden darkness.
'And what may I do for you, this fine harvest's eve?' said the blacksmith jovially, wiping his massive hands on his sooty overalls.
'Have you got the scythe blade?' asked Kel, 'Eron sent me to fetch it.'
'Aye, I know the one,' said the man, producing a dirty, but sharp-looking blade from beneath a counter.
Kel handed the man the coins that he asked for, and left the shop, carrying the purchase carefully.
The first day of the Harvest dawned bright and early, the sky a crystal blue which was a good omen according to Eron. After a hurried breakfast the entire family piled out to the fields to bring in the harvest. The goats were left in the shed; for now the most important task was to bring in the vegetables and hay before the weather turned sour.
Jacqui, her lungs worse than ever, was forced to watch as the harvesting began. It was immensely frustrating for her to have to sit and observe everyone else at work; she felt useless, and not for the first time she thanked the Goddess for Alex's insight and kindness at leaving Kel with her family.
Meah, whose initial interest at scrabbling in the dirt to dig up potatoes had vanished, toddled over to join her mother, helping to remove the negative thoughts from Jacqui's mind.
Kel worked constantly, using muscles that she had built up over her days at the plantation. She knelt on the hard earth and plunged her hands into the soil over and over to bring up the muddy vegetables that would see the family through the rest of the year.
Despite it being early autumn, it was still hot under the rays of the Scanran sun and sweat trickled down Kel's back. Her arms, exposed by sleeves rolled up were more tanned than ever, giving her an appearance more similar to someone from the Yamani isles than Tortall.
As she worked, Kel let her mind wonder, her thoughts occasionally drifting to her homeland and the people that she'd left behind. Her own memories of Tortall seemed unreal, as though the person she was then and now were two different people, separated by the things that she had experienced. Even her memory of people's faces was beginning to fade. She could still envision her parents, but it was though she were viewing them through a thin veil, a picture not quite in focus.
Sighing to herself, Kel shook her head, and focused on the dirt beneath her hands, the dirt that had jammed itself under her fingernails and smeared itself all over her clothes. Scanran dirt. The dirt that people had fought over for centuries...The dirt that people still fight over today, thought Kel. Alex doesn't fight for dirt, she mused he fights for the people, not the land in which they live.
Something rained down on Kel's back and she turned around, pulled out of her wonderings. She shook her head and clods of soil fell out of her hair. She glanced around to where Isra and Hal were suddenly very busy digging. Kel turned back to her work, pretending to absorb herself once more. Hands working mechanically Kel glanced over, just in time to see Isra flinging a clod of mud at her younger brother. Hal squealed and retaliated, his small hands grasping at a handful of loose dirt, flinging it wildly into the air. Dust and small stones blew in Kel's direction, landing on her breeches.
'Isra, Hal, stop that now,' commanded their mother. 'You're getting Kel covered.'
Kel didn't mind; the young cries of laughter were welcome reminders that she wasn't back at the plantation. Even though they weren't living a life of luxury, Kel was reminded how lucky Jacqui's children were, to be able to play and laugh like that, rather than being worked to death as slaves, or forced to beg on the streets.
When they stopped for lunch, water was gulped down by everyone, and a loaf of bread was shared out. The afternoon disappeared in a haze of mud and sweat, Kel helping Eron to shift the sacks of potatoes that they had gathered to the barn. Once that field was complete, the family headed home, to wash the dirt from their faces and hands.
Shortly afterwards, Meah perched happily on Kel's shoulders, and Hal on Eron's they made their way up the twisty path and down into Redroc. They walked at a slow pace to allow for Jacqui's lungs and Isra's short legs.
When they entered the village they were greeted by several families as Eron found them a spot by one of the crackling bonfires. Jacqui took some of their freshly harvested potatoes to contribute towards the evening meal and set about helping the other ladies of the village to prepare the harvest meal.
Despite Kel's offer to do the cooking, Jacqui insisted. She had been doing nothing all day and if this would be her last harvest, then she would at least perform the role of the woman of the house. Isra tagged along to watch her mother, dreaming of the day when she would be allowed to cook the harvest meal.
Kel meanwhile, took the opportunity to look around at the other fifty or so people that had gathered for the celebrations. She recognised the blacksmith that she had met the previous day, as well as a family who owned the farm next to Eron's.
As the festivities began, Kel joined in with the singing, quickly picking up any folk songs that she did not know. She danced happily around the fire, one hand holding on to Isra, the other tucked inside the large, callused hand of a boy that looked to be slightly older than herself.
The songs were all ones of celebration and thanks, praising the gods for a bountiful year; quite different to the songs of desperation and hope that had been sung at the slave plantation. Somebody sitting at the neighbouring fire had a fiddle and was accompanying the singers, as were several young men on hand-made drums.
The villagers danced until the food was served and the rich smell of stew and mashed potato hung heavy in the air.
'Is this your first harvest celebration?' asked the blonde boy sitting next to Kel.
Kel nodded. 'I'm Jacqui's cousin from up north.'
'How long you gonna be staying?' he asked through a mouthful of food.
Kel shrugged, wondering herself when Alex would come back to fetch her. She had been staying with Jacqui for over two months now, and her fitness was back up to a good standard. Every day since her sword had been returned to her Kel had practised relentlessly and had run laps of the field until she could barely stand upright.
'I'm Rhyan,' he introduced himself, after a moment's hesistation.
'Kel.'
They finished the meal in silence, listening to the happy banter of the families around them. Rhyan glanced nervously at Kel, who sat staring into the fire, her thoughts a thousand miles from where her body was.
'Would you like to dance?' asked the boy, stumbling slightly over the words.
'Um…pardon?' asked Kel, blinking in surprise.
'Would you like to dance?' repeated the boy, blushing slightly.
It was only then that Kel noticed everyone else seemed to be getting up, leaving the empty plates of food by the fire.
'Um…okay,' replied Kel, getting unsteadily to her feet and following the taller boy away from the fires to where everyone was assembling. 'I'm not a very good dancer,' Kel warned him.
'Neither am I,' smiled Rhyan shyly.
The fiddler struck the first note and everyone paired off. Kel had lost sight of Jacqui and Eron, but she could see Hal and Isra jiggling around, ready to dance. The fiddler and drummers began to play and Kel just had time to register the tones of a lute, before she was pulled into the dance.
It took her a minute or so of treading on Rhyan's feet before she got the hang of the dance. It involved a series of small steps, followed by one large one forwards and then a small backwards step and a turn.
Rhyan, who had obviously danced the same dances since he could first walk, lead her surprisingly well and no major catastrophe occurred.
'Relax,' he murmured. 'You're actually quite a good dancer.'
The next song proved to be more of a challenge, as the fast tempo meant that Kel had to move her feet much quicker in time to the rhythm. Fortunately for Kel, hours of working on her quick footwork for fencing, meant that she was generally quite lithe on her feet and only got tangled up in Rhyan a couple of times.
Halfway through the evening Rhyan dragged her off to meet his friends.
'This is Kahleb and Siana,' he introduced a blonde couple who seemed to be a couple of years older than Kel.
'You should come over to the village more often,' drawled Kahleb. 'I can imagine that it gets quite boring with just children for company.'
'Not really,' said Kel stiffly, not caring for his tone of voice.
Kahleb shrugged.
'And this is Pieter and Dreuw,' Rhyan introduced two identical twin boys, both of whom looked to be about eleven.
Kel looked around at the unlikely group; she would never have expected these people to have been friends. Arrogant Kahleb, Siana hanging on his every word, shy Rhyan and the sulky, secretive twins. Maybe "friends" is too strong a word, thought Kel, if these are the only people their age in the village then they would have no choice but to associate with each other.
'So where are you from?' asked Siana.
'The north,' replied Kel evasively.
'We don't normally see people with brown hair around here,' remarked Kahleb.
Kel shrugged awkwardly. The last time she had looked her hair had been more blonde than brown, having been bleached by the strong summer sun, but compared the almost white-blonde hair of most Scanrans, she supposed her hair classified as 'brown.'
'My mother was Yamani,' she invented. 'She was the daughter of a merchant.'
'So where've you been living?' asked Kahleb in a bored tone of voice. 'Hillover? I travelled there once with my father.'
'No,' replied Kel, 'I've lived in all sorts of places. Most recently Hamrkeng.'
'Wow!' breathed Dreuw. 'We've never been anywhere further than Pillerscroft.'
Kahleb, who seemed to dislike not being the centre of attention, interrupted;
'As fascinating as this conversation might be Siana and I are going to dance.' And, hand in hand with Siana he swaggered off.
Rhyan looked anxiously at Kel, as though worried that she would be impressed by Kahleb's manner.
Kel, on the other hand, couldn't care less what Kahleb was doing; she was scanning the crowd for Jacqui and Eron. Spotting them, she waved and Jacqui beckoned her over.
'It looks like I've got to go.' Turning to Rhyan she said, 'Thanks for a nice evening,' before slipping away into the night.
Eron led the way home with a flaming torch, taken from the bonfire. Hal and Isra were dead on their feet, and Meah was sound asleep in Eron's arms. Kel gave Hal a piggy back for most of the way home and as soon as they arrived back at the little cottage, they all went straight to bed, in preparation for another day of harvesting.
On the third day of the harvest festival, the family finished early, thanks to hard work on Kel's behalf. Over half the harvesting was done, with another four days still to go of the festival.
Once Kel had washed her hands, she asked Jacqui;
'Do you mind if I head over to Redroc early? I promised to meet Rhyan…'
'Go ahead,' smiled Jacqui.
And so, her arms and back still aching from the day's labours, Kel jogged doggedly over the hill and down into the neighbouring valley.
One of the farms she came to on the eastern side of the valley belonged to Rhyan and his family. The previous evening he had told her that he had two older, grown up sisters, both of whom had moved away to different villages, so Rhyan stood to inherit the farm and follow his father's footsteps as a sheep farmer.
When Kel entered the yard, she found Rhyan flailing a staff around in the air, duelling an imaginary foe. She almost laughed, but caught herself just in time.
'Hey,' she called. 'What are you doing?'
Rhyan jumped and dropped his weapon, spinning around to face her.
'Oh,' he blushed. 'Hello Kel.'
'What're you doing?' repeated Kel, walking towards him.
'Practising for tonight,' he said, picking up the staff sheepishly. 'I'm not very good, but my old man says, If you never give something a go then you can never hope to succeed.
'Give what a go?' asked Kel.
'Tonight's competition, the staff fighting,' explained Rhyan. 'It always happens on the third night of the festival.'
'Can anyone take part?' asked Kel, taking the staff and examining it idly.
'Yeah I think so,' said Rhyan, confused. 'Normally one of the older men win,' he sighed. 'Although this year everyone reckons Kahleb will win it.' He glanced quickly at Kel, as though checking for a reaction.
'Really…' mused Kel, thinking back to the previous evening, an idea forming in her mind…
The previous evening whilst the group had been chatting, Kel hadn't been impressed with the way that Kahleb snubbed Rhyan all the time. Rhyan's shyness didn't mean that he was slow, or worth any less than the other members of their group, but Kahleb walked all over Rhyan, and Kel didn't hate anything more than people who believed other people to be inferior to themselves.
She handed the staff back to her friend.
'Try holding it like this,' she suggested, gently moving Rhyan's hands further apart. 'Now move this leg…' she moved his leg until he had a more balanced stance. Rhyan held the staff awkwardly.
'Now try again,' coaxed Kel.
'What's the point?' said the boy dispiritedly, 'I'm never going to be a warrior like Kahleb. I'm going to be a farmer, and live my whole life working the land and it's creatures.'
Kel shrugged. 'Then it doesn't matter if you're bad, just have a go anyway.'
'But what if I want to be good?' he asked plaintively. 'Kahleb is going to be a mighty warrior some day, earning glory and riches. And where will I be?'
'Here,' replied Kel. 'Growing the food that the mighty warriors eat, the food that the warriors would die without. Doesn't that make farming equally important as fighting?'
Rhyan sighed, still looking downhearted.
'Did you ever think that as a mighty warrior that you would harm and kill people?' asked Kel, trying to ignore the bloody memories of the battle in the Rokang pass. 'That your doing will see men maimed, killed, families ripped apart?'
Rhyan shook his head. Kel smiled, 'To me, farming seems like a very honourable occupation indeed.'
This time the shy boy smiled back at her, a proper smile.
'I'll see you later,' said Kel, needing some time alone.
She made her way out across the fields, past the villagers preparing for the night's festivities, until she came to a small coppice where she found some shade. Kel sat down, face in her hands, unsure of why the vivid memories had suddenly overwhelmed her.
It was the old argument. You could do all the good deeds you could, fighting for justice, but at the end of the day you had still killed people, taken someone's life. And how do you ever make up for that? Kel asked herself.
That evening after the food had been eaten and the songs sung, the men of the village gathered at the central fire, Kel among them. She received many questioning looks, but took up one of the staffs from the barrel and lined up all the same.
The first two competitors stepped forward, and the first bout of the evening began. It was a messy fight that lasted for no more than about two minutes, before the brute strength of one man overwhelmed the other. As the second and third fights progressed it became apparent that none of the men of Redroc had ever been trained for combat. According to Alex, Dundine was not known for it's fighting prowess. The only reason why the clan had not yet been seized by Maggur was that it's populace was spread far and wide across the rolling hills, encompassing a huge area; one that would require a lot of men to bring under control.
When Kel's turn arrived, she found herself paired off with a man whom she didn't know. He looked apprehensively at her, unwilling to attack a girl. Kel made the first move, sending the staff around to land a firm blow on the man's weapon.
It was odd, after all of her hours working with a sword, at how different the longer weapon felt in her hands. She knew that though her swordplay was improving in leaps and bounds, her lack of practising with a staff would mean that any woman in the Eastern lands could trounce her easily with a glaive. Not that it mattered, Kel hoped that if she could become nearly as good as Alex, then it wouldn't matter that she was only proficient with one weapon.
The man took a swing at Kel, and she easily twisted her staff underneath his, wrenching it out of his grip. The man stood in shock for a minute before bowing to Kel and picking, up his staff he left the group of competitors.
There was near silence and Kel couldn't help but wonder if she'd been too hasty in her idea to enter the contest; women fighting obviously wasn't an idea these people were used to. Sighing to herself, Kel returned to the side to watch the next fight.
In the last bout, Kel watched Rhyan get beaten in a matter of seconds by Kahleb. Their numbers now halved, the victors all lined up for the second round.
This time, Kel's match lasted a little longer, the man's wild swings forcing her to duck and dodge more than before, but after blocking several of his strikes she swung the staff with uncanny accuracy, disarming her opponent.
The rounds that followed posed little problems to Kel, who couldn't help but feel that it was a mockery of the fighting she had seen in her time. Fighting like Alex did, so graceful quick and deadly that it was almost inhuman. Kel drew herself back to the present, thinking of Alex only made her long for him to return.
Soon only Kahleb and Kel remained in the competition. As Kel took to the floor once more it fell silent as it always did when she fought. Suddenly a small voice broke the quiet.
'Go on Kel,' shouted a young voice that Kel recognised as Hal's.
'Yeah, you can beat him Kel,' Isra joined in.
There was a moment's silence and then suddenly everyone had joined in, shouting his or her support for once of the finalists. Kel relaxed, this was how it should be, how it had been at Sekholm, with everyone getting behind the fighters, cheering them on. It was in keeping with the Scanran's love of sport and competition.
Kel faced the slightly taller Kahleb, her calm hazel eyes taking in his arrogant stance and smirk. He reminded her of someone, but at that moment Kel couldn't recall who.
When the signal went, Kahleb attacked first. He was fast, and Kel bought her defence up just in time, to ward off a blow that would've broken her collarbone. Pivoting so that she pushed his staff to the side, the boy was forced to take several steps back, allowing him to disengage the weapon and rebuild his defence.
Now it was Kel who attacked, her body dredging up memories of glaive work from long ago. She chopped in low and then jabbed at Kahleb, shoving him backwards. He stumbled but didn't fall, and responded in a series of whirlwind blows. Kel was cautious and blocked them all, but not yet seeking to gain an advantage.
She tested his skill level, wanting to find a flaw and or weakness. She almost got her staff in behind his for a move that would've disarmed him, but Kahleb realised what she was trying to do and twisted away. Their staffs locked and the arrogant boy, panting hard tried to use his superior weight to his advantage, bearing down on Kel.
Kel gritted her teeth and locked her arms, letting him know that she wasn't some delicate wallflower; she had acquired her muscle through hours of sweat and hard work.
'Give in,' panted the boy.
'Never,' replied Kel, twisting sharply, and throwing Kahleb off balance. She whipped the weapon down in improvised move similar to the one she had been practising with her sword. It struck the very tip of the boy's staff, creating a huge amount of leverage and the staff spun away, landing with a clatter before one of the fires.
Kel darted in, her staff at Kahleb's throat.
'Alright, alright,' said the boy sourly, shoving Kel away. 'You win.'
When she returned to her fire Jacqui and Eron congratulated her, whilst the three children leapt about ecstatically. Kel shrugged off of the praise, not feeling any sense of achievement at having beaten untrained fighters. When the hubbub of people around Kel had died down, Rhyan sidled over.
'You were amazing,' he breathed. 'I didn't think that anyone could beat Kahleb; he's so fast. But you, you were…' he was lost for words, admiration shining across his innocent face.
'I'm not great at staff work,' said Kel, 'but if you really want to get better, I could give you a few tips.'
'That would be…nice,' said Rhyan colouring, 'You could come over to the farm sometime.'
Kel nodded absentmindedly, watching Jacqui gathering up her excited children.
'We're going to be off now Kel,' said Eron, 'but you can stay here, I'm sure you can find your way back.'
'I'll walk her back,' volunteered Rhyan.
In all actuality Kel wanted to return with Jacqui and Eron, to escape from all of the praises, stares and questions that she had been receiving. However, not wishing to be rude, she agreed to stay for a little while longer.
She talked to Rhyan, discussing mundane things such as his farm, things he liked to do when he wasn't working, all learning more about the shy boy. When the conversation faltered, Kel announced that she was tired. He jumped up.
'I'll walk you home,' Rhyan said, helping Kel to her feet.
'It's alright,' said Kel, 'I can find my way back, you stay here and enjoy yourself.'
'But…'
'Really,' said Kel, 'I'll be fine.'
She made here way past the fires, squinting through the darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the low light levels. Kel was just beginning to make her way up the path that would lead over the hill when a pair of strong hands grabbed her from behind.
One arm was over her mouth, to prevent her from crying out, and the other was over her chest, pinning her arms down.
'I'll teach you to humiliate me like that,' growled an angry voice in her ear.
Kel struggled, managing to get one hand free. She reached behind her and gouged at her assailant's neck. Kel scrabbled, scratching at every piece of flesh she could reach. She then rammed her elbow into the attacker's stomach, causing him to release her.
Kel lurched away and turned to see Kahleb doubled over, in pain. Anger flooded through Kel's veins. She punched him in the face, feeling bones crunch beneath her fingers. Blood poured from Kahleb's nose.
'Don't you ever touch me again,' hissed Kel.
His hands over his face, he glared at Kel with a look of intense hatred.
'Why would anyone want to touch a whore like you?' he spat, turning on his heel and fleeing into the night.
Kel stood for a moment, breathing heavily, before hurrying away into the darkness. Joren, she thought, that's who he reminded me of.
(-a/n- So what did you think of that? Please leave a review and you will get a quicker update. I've got lots planned for the next chapter, and in the chapter after that lots will be revealed about Kel and Alex ;D )
As always let me know what you thought; it doesn't take long!
Confusedknight xxx