Chapter Three

As the thought crossed Leah’s mind, that six days had passed since her family had left for Kurabar, a humourless smile graced her lips; she had not realised she’d been marking the days since their departure.

She stood by the archery butts, staring down at the spent arrows but made no move to retrieve them. For a change, it wasn’t Conor that was foremost in her thoughts these days, but her family. And what usually followed thoughts of her family was the familiar, recurring worry that had been born alongside her brother. Nine years ago... that was the first time, the eight-year-old Leah had witnessed her mother in pain, struggling through a long labour. The first time she had witnessed her mother’s frightening wrath against her father, crushing, once and for all, Leah’s firm belief that her parents’ love was true and eternal.

Although a mantle of silence had been drawn over the whole matter, still Leah nursed suspicions about Maeve’s maid, Ana. The woman had inexplicably attacked Maeve, causing her to go into labour a month early. Edmon had had the maid banished, yet Maeve had been openly hostile towards Edmon after Evalan’s birth. Was Ana the cause of the tension between Edmon and Maeve? She shook her head slightly, denying the thought that her father would ever betray her mother.

Leah sighed; she’d given up trying to unravel the mystery for no one would speak of Ana. And even though her parents’ relationship was not as loving as she remembered, it had improved somewhat. Yet why does this worry still plague me?

Gathering the arrows, Leah turned, her gaze coming to rest on Nadeen, and grimaced at what she took to be her friend’s boredom. Having asked her closest friend to help her improve her archery skills, Leah suspected that Nadeen found it hard to understand why she found archery so difficult.

Born in Kurabar, Nadeen had lived with her family in Orenheart for almost eight years. Her father, like most Kurabarans, was an accomplished archer, and his daughter had clearly acquired his skills.

Leah plodded back to Nadeen’s side, shaking her head slightly, for her dusky-skinned friend remained oblivious to the lingering looks coming her way from the young men practising further along. Conscious of the fact that she was not considered a great beauty, as far as Leah was aware, no man had ever regarded her in the same way. But she’d been told that she was pleasant enough to look at, her best feature being her large, smoky-black eyes that dominated her rounded face. 

As she got closer, she could make out Nadeen’s fingers fiddling with her braided blue-black hair... long, tapered fingers that handled bow and arrow with such consummate skill it left even their instructors wide-eyed with wonder. She stared unseeing across the strip of poorly tended grass.

“Am I boring you?”

Nadeen didn’t respond.

Leah stood directly in front of her. “Have you had enough? Nadeen.” She shook her shoulder.

She started, then stared. “Oh. What? I am sorry...”

“Are you alright?”

She merely shrugged.

“Is something the matter?” said Leah.

“No, nothing.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

Glancing intermittently at Leah, Nadeen finally looked her in the eye. “Can I tell you…?”

Sitting down, Leah took her friend’s hand in hers. “Nadeen, you can tell me anything. We’re friends, remember?”

Even with that assurance, she hesitated before replying. “It is a secret.”

“You can trust me.”

After a couple of false starts, Nadeen said, “Artur... it is Artur.”

“What about Artur?”

She reddened. “I like him... very much.”

“Oh. How long?”

“Soon after we started our training.”

“Almost four years? And you’ve not said a word? To anyone?”

She shook her head. “I cannot. I am too scared.”

Sighing loudly, Leah nodded. “I know the feeling.”

Nadeen tilted her head to the side, leaning closer.

“What are you going to do?” asked Leah, straightening her posture and looking away.

Nadeen studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “What can I do? I have no way of knowing if he feels anything for me. He treats us all the same; we are all good friends. I dare not do anything to endanger that friendship.”

Leah wished she had some gem of wisdom to impart to her despondent friend. Although it surprised her that Nadeen was attracted to him: big, strong Artur with his dark craggy features; he was like a moving mountain. His dark soulful eyes softened his appearance considerably, but he usually kept them downcast.

“Leah, what did you mean? When you said you know how it feels, being too scared to tell?”

“Nothing.” Her reply was too quick, her voice too high-pitched.

“Leah, be fair. I told you my secret. Do you have one too?”

Her shoulders sagged; she nodded.

“Who is it?”

Leah glanced up and around as if to check if anyone was watching or listening. She knew the men’s gazes would continue to flick in Nadeen’s direction. But none of them were within earshot. “Conor,” she finally whispered.

“What! That imp?”

“Shh.” But Nadeen’s loud exclamation hadn’t attracted anyone’s attention. Leaning forward, she held her head in her hands. “I don’t know how or when,” she said. “I mean I’ve known him almost all my life... I’m always the victim of his jokes and teasing. But one day I looked in his eyes and...” Her voice trailed away, her expression glazed as she allowed the memory to wash over her, of his sky-blue eyes. For the first time, her heart had skipped a beat while her entire being had experienced a strange falling sensation. Since then it didn’t require any effort on Leah’s part to summon his features to her mind’s eye: short neat hair the colour of old gold; square chin; clean-shaven, accentuating his boyish appearance. She’d defy any female to find him unattractive.

“Will you tell?”

Eyes wide, she shook her head. “Oh, Nadeen, no. I couldn’t. What if he only sees it as a big joke?”

Nadeen wrinkled her nose. “Knowing Conor and his obsession with what he believes to be witty repartee, he probably would see it as exactly that.”

Leah grabbed Nadeen’s hands. “Promise you won’t tell? I couldn’t bear it–”

“You have to ask? Of course, I will not tell. I will not tell a soul.”

Leah’s smile widened, but kept her thoughts to herself as once again she found herself wishing her life to be something more, something other... 

*          *          *          *

Conor stood outside the shop, waiting for Sover to finish taking his leave. He’d decided to accompany his friend when the latter had suggested using part of their leave-day to visit his father, a fabric merchant.

Every day was a busy day at the bazar, set in a wide street with shops down either side of it. The entrance to each shop overlooked the street while narrow alleys separated every couple of shops. Down the alleys towards the back were the entrances to the owners’ dwellings. Only the wealthy merchants had their dwellings elsewhere, in the more fashionable area of the city.

Conor glanced around as someone bumped into him, and barely managed to avoid a gangly youth clutching an unwieldy box. He wondered how people managed to work and live here every single day. The level of noise was overwhelming: the cacophony of people talking, shouting... the squabbling disharmony of horses and livestock, all sporadically drowned out by thudding, rattling carts. He grimaced at the din even as his mouth watered, his hunger teased by the whiff of pungent, spicy aromas jarringly laced with fragrant perfumes. Bolts of vivid coloured fabrics overwhelmed the bland earthy tones of practical pottery, although even some of these attempted to vie for attention by sporting gaudy flashes of colour. He closed his eyes momentarily; the entire place assailed the senses with no respite.

Sover fell in step with Conor, and they made their leisurely way back to the barracks. They paused at the sweetmeats stall to buy some tantalising morsels for their friends. The sound of a box falling to the ground, followed by angry voices distracted Conor. But it wasn’t the arguing pair that caught his attention. It was the vision just beyond them who stepped out of their way with the grace of a deer. Large, green eyes dominated her pale, oval face; liquid gold hair caught at the nape of her long neck was elegantly draped over her shoulder.

“What do you think, Conor? Will that be enough? Conor... what are you staring at?” Sover followed his friend’s gaze and chuckled. “You’re drooling.”

“She’s... exquisite...”

“She always has been.”

“Always?” Conor turned wide eyes to his friend. “You’ve seen her before?”

Sover nodded, seemingly oblivious to his friend’s agitation.

“You know her?”

Again, he nodded. “Veha. Our families have known each other since before we were born.”

Conor stared at Sover who popped a sweet in his mouth. “All your life you’ve known this–this... goddess and you never told me?”

Before Sover could answer, a voice called his name. He waved as Veha made her way over to them.

“Sover, what a pleasant surprise.” She gave him a peck on the cheek then turned her face so he could return it.

“Hello, Veha. You look well.”

“You also. How are you? Since you’ve become a recruit, we hardly see you. Only the other day Mother was asking your father about you.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? They keep us busy. But how are you?”

“Mother keeps me busy, teaching me to run the household. But I think I can honestly say I am not as busy as you.” She glanced again at Conor.

On the verge of throttling Sover, Conor instead nudged him with a foot as he loudly cleared his throat.

“Well, it was a pleasure seeing you again, Veha, but we must be going. Convey my regards to your parents–”

Conor cleared his throat again; although this time it sounded more like a growl.

Veha’s smile widened as did her gaze.

Sover turned to Conor as if he’d forgotten he was there, but his ill-suppressed smile countered his air of supposed innocence. “Oh, I’m sorry. Veha, this is my friend, Conor. Conor, may I introduce a good friend from childhood, Veha.”

Conor executed a perfect bow. “An honour, my lady.”

A small laugh escaped her, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Please, call me Veha. I am not so exalted as to deserve to be called that. Are you a recruit also, like Sover?”

“Yes, we’re in the same classes together.”

“And your father is a merchant?”

Conor shook his head, his smile widening as he tried to imagine his father being one. “He was a commander in the army. That’s why I enrolled.”

She nodded, her cheeks reddening.

Silence fell as she dropped her gaze under Conor’s stare. When neither spoke, Sover finally said, “Well, it was good seeing you again, Veha. It’s been too long. We should make more of an effort to keep in touch–”

“Oh yes, we should.” Replying a touch too quickly, she averted her gaze and fiddled with her hair.

“I’m pleased to have met you, Veha.” Not taking his eyes off her, Conor gave a little bow.

They watched as she walked away, although she kept glancing back every now and again.

“I want to see her again. I need to see her again,” said Conor, still staring after her.

Sover laughed. “You like her then?”

“Oh, Sover, how can you not? But I can’t simply turn up on her doorstep. You have to help me.”

“Alright, I’ll help. Look, on our next leave-day, you come with me to the house, and I’ll ask Mother to invite Veha. Will that do?”

Conor grasped Sover’s arm. “You are a true friend.”

“I know, I know.”