Chapter Four #2
It was a warm, powerful touch, and Tay held on to her tightly.
He pulled her through the tavern and into a smaller room that was far less crowded than the main common room.
There were a few people here, eating and drinking, and Tay sent a wench for food before selecting a table in a corner.
He indicated for Athdara to sit, and she did before he took his seat.
The table was small, so they were sitting rather close.
He found himself gazing into eyes that were brown, like a smoky quartz, but had streaks of gold in them.
They were stunning, just like the rest of her.
“Now,” he said, his expression bordering on warm. “You asked what I liked to teach? Many things. I am trained as a knight. My training has served me well in my current position.”
They’d brought their half-empty cups of ale with them, and Athdara was feeling hers already. That strong drink on an empty stomach had her just a little tipsy.
“I thought you might be a knight,” she said, elbows on the table as she leaned closer to him. “You have the look of one.”
“Thank you.”
“Where did you train?”
“In the north,” he said. “My father knew one of the border lords, and I trained there from an early age.”
“Then you went away from home?”
“Of course,” Tay said. “All young men go away from home to train.”
Athdara shook her head. “My brother didn’t,” she said. “My father trained him. He was a great warrior, and he would have made a great… Well, it does not matter. The point is that he remained at home to train, and my father did very well with him.”
The food came at that moment. The wench brought an enormous tray filled with bowls of boiled carrots and some kind of meat in gravy.
Bread and butter filled half of the tray, along with two small, empty wooden bowls.
Tay handed her one then took the other, and they both began to spoon food into the vessels.
“The idea behind sending lads away to train is so they will learn things other than what their home can teach them,” he explained, shoving meat into his mouth. “Your brother could have learned valuable things to bring back to your father.”
Athdara buttered her bread. “Did you learn valuable things somewhere other than your home?”
Tay nodded. “Verily,” he said. “I learned how men think. I saw how men behaved. I learned the history of England and other countries. That has helped me teach others.”
She took a bite of the bread. “Is that what you like best?” she asked. “History?”
Tay shrugged. “It is important to know it so we do not make the same mistakes as our ancestors.”
“Is that what you tell your students?”
He thought about the men he trained and how, once bitten, cuffed, or struck in the course of the instruction, they were less inclined to commit the same offence twice.
He thought about the battles he lectured on, and there were several, and how his trainees could learn from the mistakes of foolish commanders.
There was so much of an answer to her question, but he still didn’t feel as if he could, or even should, divulge everything.
“Aye,” he finally said. “That is what I tell my students.”
“You must be a great teacher.”
He grinned, mouth full. “That is what I am told.”
Athdara spooned meat and gravy into her mouth. “Then you have found a great calling,” she said. “You have found your purpose.”
“Think so?”
She nodded. “You must find something you are good at, better than anyone else,” she said. “That is where you are meant to be. My father told me that.”
For someone who didn’t want to discuss her murdered family, she was bringing them up quite a bit. Still, Tay wouldn’t press her on them. If she wanted to talk about them, she would.
“He sounds like a wise man,” he said, chewing.
“He was.”
“And you?” he said. “What is your purpose?”
She was focused on her food. “An interesting question to which I have no answer,” she said. “Most women want husbands and children, don’t they? Isn’t that a purpose?”
He nodded. “It is,” he said. “If you have both a husband and children, may I say they are very fortunate to have you as their mother and wife.”
She stopped chewing and looked at him. “Why would you say that?”
He picked up a piece of bread. “Because you are intelligent and beautiful,” he said. “I am sure you would raise many fine sons. Do you have any?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said, though she still wasn’t eating. “Nor do I have a husband. That is not my purpose in life.”
Tay had to admit that he was glad she wasn’t married. “What is?”
Athdara set her spoon down. She was gazing at him steadily, and Tay finally realized that she wasn’t eating any longer.
He looked at her with concern. “What’s wrong?” he said. “Is the food not to your liking?”
She nodded. “It is.”
“Then what is wrong?”
“I realized that I cannot answer your question.”
“Why not?”
She sighed and reached out for her spoon again. “Because I do not know the answer,” she said. “I do not know what my purpose is, but I intend to find out.”
He was watching her closely now. “And this distresses you? The fact that you do not know?”
“A little,” she said. “I know what I want my purpose to be. But I also know it will be very difficult. I will have to work for it. And I do not know if I will succeed.”
He was still chewing when he held his hand out to her. She looked at it queerly, and he gestured.
“Give me your hand,” he said quietly.
Without hesitation, she did. He took her hand and squeezed it before holding it up to look at her long fingers, her scarred palm. That indicated that she wasn’t afraid of hard work. She may look like a fine lady, but it was clear she hadn’t led a fine life.
After a moment, he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed then gently. “Your hands tell a story about you,” he murmured.
Athdara was looking at him rather wide-eyed, her heart thumping against her ribs at his mere touch. “What do they say?”
“That you are strong,” he said. “That you are willing to work. I am a man who believes in destiny, Athdara. If you want to find your purpose and are willing to work for it, you shall. I have no doubt.”
He let go of her fingers to pick up his cup, and she looked at the hand he’d been holding.
“Are you an oracle, then?” she said, mildly jesting. “What else do my hands tell you?”
“That they would like to see me again.”
She looked at him in surprise. “They would?” she said. “Why?”
“Because they like talking to me.”
A smile played on her lips as she realized he was declaring his interest. Here, of all places. In the middle of a rough tavern out in the wilds of Devon, a man she had literally crashed into. He wanted to see her again.
The evening was taking an unexpected turn.
“Do you like talking to them?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Then I am agreeable,” she said, a glimmer of warmth in her eye. “But I will tell you now that I am not looking for a husband.”
“And I am not looking for a wife.”
“Good. Now things are established between us.”
He was still eating, still shoving food into his mouth, as if her words meant nothing to him, but the truth was that he was confused by the fact he wanted to see her again.
More confused that he had voiced it. Perhaps even slightly offended that she’d told him she wasn’t looking for a husband.
He really wasn’t looking for a wife—but in her case, it was possible he just might make an exception.
This tall, beautiful, and strong creature by his side would be a proud thing, indeed.
Until he thought of her leaving him for a rich lord’s son.
That sank him right back into confusion again.
“They are,” he said, pointing to the food. “Eat. Eat and tell me what you are doing here in Devon. Are you traveling alone?”
They’d switched to yet another subject in a conversation that had been full of them.
Athdara didn’t want to tell him why she was here; she didn’t want this educated man to think she was a fool because she was a recruit at Blackchurch.
It was a training ground for warriors, men and not women, yet here she was.
And she had passed the first of what would undoubtedly be many tests.
But she didn’t want him to know that, fearful he might think less of her.
What decent man would want anything to do with a female warrior?
She didn’t know why she should worry about that, only that she did.
“I am not alone,” she said, which was the truth. Sort of. Marina was here with her, though Athdara hadn’t seen the woman since they’d entered. “I am here in Devon on business.”
“What business?”
“My own.”
He grinned at her. “I suppose that was too personal a question,” he said. “Forgive me.”
“You are forgiven.”
“Unless it involves something to do with a husband or betrothed, I am not interested.”
“Why should those two things concern you?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Because I will not sit here with another man’s property,” he said. “I would not want a man sitting with someone who belonged to me, and I will not do it to someone else.”
She smiled faintly. “I belong to no one, I assure you,” she said. “Do you truly believe that women are a man’s property?”
He nodded, mopping up the gravy in his bowl with a piece of bread. “Women must belong to someone,” he said. “If something belongs to you, it is your property.”
Athdara cocked her head. “Then, using that logic, would you say that a man belongs to his wife?”
He shrugged. “If he is the loyal sort, I suppose he does.”
“Are you the loyal sort?”
He looked at her then. “I told you I wasn’t looking for a wife.”
“And I’m not looking for a husband. I was simply asking if you were loyal.”
He swallowed the bite in his mouth and leaned forward so he was just a few inches from her face.