Ackerley slept badly that night. The accursed refugees came and went from their barracks at all hours of the night. The lord of Tirrsmont had enough difficulty sleeping on straw without these peasants making life more difficult for him. As soon as the land was his, he planned to build a large manor where he would be protected from this…muck.
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In the middle of staff practice, Kel looked up to see Ackerley as he exited the barracks. He was still handsome, of course, but his regal bearing had evaporated. He stumbled, bleary eyed, and his curls were a mess. She suppressed a grin.
Dom's crew had already put up a wall on the new barracks. Kel went to see their progress. She gave a short speech of thanks and encouragement to all the people involved. The refugees and former convicts beamed at her praise. Dom gave them an extra half hour for lunch, and then he went tagging along after Kel.
"How are we getting rid of Tirrsmont?" He asked.
Before Kel could answer, a cat ran by, yowling. It was being chased by Jump. The tabby made a beeline for Ackerley, using him like a small tree. Jump growled threats and grabbed Ackerley's leg, trying to shake the cat off. The feline screamed again and dug her claws into her perch. Ackerley's yelp joined the animals.
Nearby folk laughed, they knew this was no coincidence. Some remembered how well the same trick had annoyed Stenum.
Ackerley fell over in the mud and the cat quickly abandoned her roost, racing instead for the nearest roofline. She made it up in several quick bounds. Jump took one look up at the roof, sneezed, and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Kel offered a hand to a spluttering Lord Tirrsmont. Neal appeared and made a quick appraisal of Ackerley's wounds. The visiting noble was shuffled off to the infirmary to treat his leg and scalp. Once Ackerley was out of earshot, Dom looked and Kel and said, "Nice work."
Kel frowned. "I had nothing to do with it. Jump and the cat did it all by themselves."
It seemed even the animals of New Hope had opinions.
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After almost being trampled by Peachblossom and mauled by a small flock of sparrows, Ackerley left, swearing he'd sooner adopt the plague than New Hope's sodden mess of a settlement.
Fanche looked on at the animals, shaking her wizened head. "Thank Mithros they're on our side." She said, stroking Duck's crown carefully.
Later that evening, Kel sent out her own reports to the crown about the inspector and the 'unfortunate accidents' Ackerley had suffered.
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No one bothered New Hope for four weeks. By then, Dom had all the barracks up and useable. The first snow came, and people settled down like foxes in a den (the cold weather also provided Dom with a convenient excuse to stick around). There was the occasional dispute among refugees, but for the most part, life fell into a pattern.
In the morning, Kel and Yuki taught the children. After that, she and Dom paired up to teach drills and basic weapon skills to the men and women of the camp. Her afternoons were devoted to paperwork and odd jobs whenever a refugee was too sick or injured to do his/her chore. Every once and while, she joined the hunting parties.
Kel found that the fleeting moments alone she had alone with Dom were the most pleasant part of her day. They kept their meetings secret, though unconfirmed rumors flew throughout the camp.
Most nights, she ate dinner in the mess with him; and they endured light comments made about their "secret" relationship. Most quips came from Neal and Merric, since the common folk had too much respect for Kel to challenge her personal life. They were unrelentingly curious, but the residents all knew she could handle her own affairs. It was one of the reasons they trusted her.
Daisuke was busy preparing a midwinter feast, which would also celebrate Neal and Yuki's wedding. Kel and Dom were drafted as the best man and woman. Both fighters knew better than to argue.
Tobe was asked to be the ring bearer.
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Like Buri's ceremony, the New Hope wedding was low key. Nevertheless, Yuki was dressed beautifully in her wedding Kimono. Neal also looked dapper in his groom's attire. For the ceremony, Kel pulled out her only other dress; authentic, green silk Yamani garb to underscore Yuki's outfit.
At first, Dom was rendered speechless by her appearance. She'd added a bit of kohl around her eyes; the effect was enchanting. Her hair had gotten a bit longer, and someone had tied it back for her in a close braid. She gave him a self-conscious grin. His silence was far from reassuring. He coughed and rubbed his neck, trying to come up with a fitting compliment. "You look like you should be the Lady of this fort, not just its commander."
Kel blushed, not bothering to hide her emotions. Dom had broken through her masks a while ago. "Shall we?" she asked, holding out her hand. Her "secret" sweetheart fell in place beside her, and they walked into Kel's office, where the ceremony would be held. Only Daisuke, Dom, Kel and Tobe would attend the service, though everyone would be celebrating midwinter later.
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The Mithrian priest (himself a refugee) kept the ceremony light and quick. Kel played her part, acting as the female witness. She did even try to hide her happiness when the old man finished, "You may now kiss the bride."
Daisuke hurried off to check on his pies, while Dom and Kel stuck around to congratulate the couple. Yuki's smiles were wide and unrestrained.
Even Dom was gracious enough to stop referring to Neal as 'Meathead' for the afternoon. Soon enough, it became clear that Neal and Yuki wanted some time alone, and the newly weds snuck off to Neal's room.
Dom and Kel put on their cloaks and wandered toward the mess hall, knowing their friends would be back later for dinner. Dom paused, and Kel looked at him curiously. "Something wrong?" She asked.
"There's something I've been meaning to tell you." He started. "I—
He was interrupted by general ruckus as a group of children ran by, throwing snowballs and tumbling across the grounds. Kel deflected an incoming snowball with the palm of her hand, and she dusted off the remains as if nothing had happened. The children mumbled through apologies, but then they noticed her face.
"Milady mother! What cha looking all fancy fer? Is somewat important coming?" Benjamin (a Tirrsmont orphan) titled his head and studied her. "Not another Lord?" The children looked suspiciously at her and one or two of the brasher boys gathered new snowballs.
Kel waved them down. "No one is coming. Sir Neal just got married, so I had ta get all fancy fer the cer-e-mon-y." She mimicked their speech and made a face. The children giggled and Dom smiled. She had a natural way with younglings.
But he was going to tell her something; something important. Before he could, they were joined by a mildly drunk Stefas, who was singing all the wrong words to a Mirthian hymn. The old man slung his arms conspiratorially around Dom's shoulder's "If you don't get in there soon, Daisuke is threatening to give away your slice of mincemeat. Personally, I…
Stefas had just caught a full glimpse of Kel. He whistled. "Lady, are you a sight for sore eyes—no, I take that back, you'd blind even the best of 'em." Kel blushed, and said thank you.
"Lady, thank YOU! For everything." He gave her a soulful glance; and with that, he returned to his singing.
They'd reached the mess hall. Dom opened his mouth again, but as Kel opened the door, he realized now was not the best time. There was too much going on, she'd be distracted. The news would have to wait. He fell in step behind her and grinned as he watched people's reaction to her appearance. Nearly everyone did a double take.
Kel had no lack of dance partners that night, but she made sure to save the slowest dances for a certain sergeant of the King's Own.
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Lord Wyldon (and Squire Owen) came to visit several days after the wedding. Kel was surprised they had risked the weather, considering how His Lordship's arm reacted to the cold. Nevertheless, she greeted the visitors with her usual solid manner.
"I've received some complaints." Wyldon said dryly.
Kel grimaced. Here it came. She wasn't going to escape the conservatives this time. "Did you receive my reports as well, Sir?" She asked innocently.
He raised an eyebrow. "I received a list of excuses. And since excuses aren't your style, Midelan, I figured there must be something going on around here."
Oh nothing sir. Kel thought. She folded her hands neatly behind her back. Just the typical rich pig or two lording around like they're Mithros's gift to Tortall….oh and there's a revolt just waiting to happen if one of the aforementioned idiots should choose to set up camp…oh yes, AND I started a relationship with a Third company commander. Nothing important, no Sir. Kel didn't bother listing any of these things aloud, like Wyldon said, excuses weren't her style.
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She walked him through the camp, pointing out changes while Wyldon conducted his own inspection of the latrines (and pronounced everything to be in good working condition). He surveyed the work that Dom had done for the new buildings, and the former training master growled, "I suspected as much."
"Sir?" Kel asked, nervously.
"You're doing well here; Ackerley and his lackey were just being their usual prissy selves; wasting everyone else's time." He sighed. "I'll send a message to the crown and ask them to wait until spring before trying to gift these lands to anyone else."
"And then what?" Kel prompted.
Wlydon rubbed his stiff arm. "Someone will be given these lands Mindelan; all I can give you is several months to get used to the idea." Then he caught himself. He was talking to Kel. "There might be a third option." He gave Kel a warning glance. "I'm not promising anything, but we might be able to convince the crown to hold a tournament for the land."
Kel frowned. That was hardly an improvement. Instead of being given away, her people would be "awarded" to the best fighter. She opened her mouth to protest, but Wyldon cut her off. "You'd be allowed to participate, Lady Knight."
Her eyes widened. Oh. "Thank you, my lord." If he'd been anyone other than the Stump, she would have hugged him on the spot.
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Lord Wyldon and his squire only stayed for the night, but Dom approached the old knight on his way out of New Hope. "Sir, could you please see this message delivered to Lord Raoul?" Dom asked, bowing.
Wlydon quickly appraised the younger man. Domitan of Masbolle, a commander in the King's Own, the man who went charging after Kel to Scanra last year. A good commander, and apparently an amateur architect. "I'll take care of it." Wlydon promised, tucking the letter away in the nearest saddlebag. Owen looked at Dom questioningly. Something told the squire that Kel didn't know about the letter, whatever it was.
