CHAPTER 11
After our meeting with Sir Guy on the road and my subsequent illness, we did not speak his name for two weeks. My anger and hurt had overridden my sadness and desire to see him again. At times, I felt so ashamed that I had allowed him so much freedom with my body, and at night, I could still feel his lips on my womanhood, before a painful twinge interrupted my fantasy. I missed his eyes, his body, and his touch desperately, but my pride refused to let me go crawling to him for an explanation. My heart hardened, assuming I was just another near conquest, and that Father had been right about knights and their behavior. I had not wanted to believe him, but he had been right. And he was kind enough not to lord it over me.
Life continued much as it had since Guy had left. Father and I sustained our business, and I slowly came out of my depression, even started to flirt with Will, who happened by our stall with some regularity. He was never there for very long, and since out first meeting had treated me with wary respect. Yet our exchanges became quite regular, and I even looked forward to his impish humor on black market day.
One particular morning, as I embroidered some a beautiful wedding headdress, Will happened by, carrying a large number of swords and other metal frames. It was quite heavy I could tell, though he bore with weight with ease. Somehow, his foot managed to slide out from under him just in front of our stall. I jumped up, running to the front of the table to help him collect the scattered items.
"Careful, that's one's sharp," I heard Will murmur as I reached for one of the swords. I drew back a little, then cautiously tried to pick it up. It was very heavy, and I need both hands to wield it properly. I lifted it, and caught Will grinning.
"That's a sword for someone twice your size," he remarked. He put the rest in a neat pile as he reached for it. I stepped back and caught him with the flat of the blade on his wrist. It was heavy and awkward, but I'd be damned if I'd let Will make fun of me.
"Nice move," he said, bending back down to pick up the pile of swords. Then in a fluid move that I barely caught, he turned back to me, parried the huge blade with one from the pile, and pushed me back a bit. Engaged, I swung awkwardly at him again before he caught the blade with his own, and disarmed me with a circular motion. Flustered, I stepped back, finding myself at the end of our table. His eyes kind but serious, Will gently placed his blade near my neck. "Your pulse is racing, Nyssa," he said quietly. "I didn't know you enjoyed danger so much."
I flushed, despite myself. "Unfortunately, yes," I replied. "I suppose that means I should actually learn to use of these at some point."
"I believe so," he said, lowering the sword and stepping towards me. His hazel eyes searched my face. "You're angry about something," he said, annoyingly astute.
"Isn't everyone?" I said dismissively. "Not enough money, not enough food, too many mouths to feed, too many taxes to pay-"
"Not enough swords to swing?" he asked. I glared at him, to find that it was an honest question. "You have good instincts. You should learn how to defend yourself with more than a dagger."
"Ever the salesman, Will," I said teasingly. "You know we don't have one and it would us take forever to pay you for it."
"Well, perhaps you could owe us," Will said, taking a step closer to me. "I'm sure some kind of debt or trade could be worked out…"
…collect your heart, your soul and your body…
"No," I said quickly, my stomach suddenly sick. I turned and sat at the table, a safe distance away. "Thank you, I mean, but I-"
"Will!" I heard Father call out cheerfully. "Need to buy any of the best wool in the county?"
"I might be willing to trade for some of it, Master Edan," Will answered casually. My eyebrows shot up. "No! Will!" I said.
"Really?" Father's eyes lit up at the idea of a trade. "What do you have that you're wanting to trade?"
"Well, I don't have it yet," Will said smoothly. "But I can make it." His eyes went back to me, and I looked away, embarrassed. "I think your daughter has a natural talent for survival."
Father looked surprised, then began to laugh. Great bellows of laughter clawed their way out of his throat and roared out of him, so much so that he doubled over. I must have looked shocked. I couldn't remember seeing him laugh this hard since Mother had died. Will seemed amused at my reaction.
"That she does," Father replied, still laughing. "Though I'm glad to hear you say it as well. Did she set on you with the dagger again?"
"With one of my own swords this time," Will answered seriously, his eyes but sparkling with laughter. Father's eyes widened. "Nyssa!"
"I jest, Master Edan," Will said, spreading his hands. "But Nyssa had good instincts with a weapon, and she's very quick. Have you never thought of training her in the arts of weaponry? My father has taught my sister, mostly to defend herself from…assault."
Father considered this carefully. He glanced around the stall yard for several moments, seeming uninterested. "And of course, you would make the weapon," he said, slowly. "For Nyssa."
"For Nyssa," Will repeated, glancing at me. "If you would trade me for it."
Father gave him a crooked smile. "You'll never make it up, Will."
"Oh, I think a winter's worth of your cloaks just might, " Will replied. They dickered for a few more moments before price was settled, and Father sighed, still wondering if this was wise. He walked to me and said quietly. "You know why I do this."
"Yes, Father, I replied.
"And you're not to tell anyone," he said. "Most would not understand a woman with a blade. But I see the need." He walked back to Will. "Escort my daughter to the smithy. I want her to see this process from start to finish, so she knows just how much skill it takes." Smart, I thought. He would also have me learn in this way and oversee that Will wasn't cheating us, though I doubted he suspected it.
"As, you wish, Master Edan," Will said, picking up the remains of his spilled weapons. "I will walk with her to the smithy today after we have closed." As I heard this a sudden panic gripped me. I turned to Father. "You're not coming with us?"
He shook his head. "You know I have to take the rest of our wares home. I think Will can handle a trip to the smithy with you. Unless you're afraid I can't make it home without you." He smiled a little then, gently encouraging me.
"I don't want to be alone with him," I practically hissed.
"Why not, you've been flirting for the past few weeks, and it would be good for you to see this done," Father said. "I won't have any arguments. This is business, Nyssa." His eyes were kind but firm, and I knew he was right. He'd agreed to buy one of the most expensive items of defense available for me. The least I could do was to walk with its maker.
Sighing, I turned to Will. "Well, you've got your way," I said.
"And it seems you've got yours as well," he replied. "So let's go to Ciaran's smithy."
I slung my daypack over my shoulder and fastened my cloak, following Will out of the black market. He dropped off the pile of swords at Thomas' stall, keeping one with him for our journey to the smithy. As we left, I looked back at Father, who watched us with much more care and trepidation than I had expected. He smiled a little at me, and gave a gentle wave. I smiled sadly back, and followed Will out of the glen.
I knew Father wanted me to forget Guy as soon as possible.
I wished it was this easy.
