CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT #3
While Vayden, Ethenn, and Rafferty carried the other bags to the Glaas house, Evylin led Thom up the back of the smithy to the apartment.
It wasn’t locked, as Hewitt hadn’t left anything of value when he’d left, but the door stuck slightly when they opened it.
Dark and dusty, the room was stuffy from the warm spring air.
Evylin helped Thom open the windows to let the space air out.
Then they retreated down to the paddock.
“Care to have a go?” Evylin asked, slipping over to the practice swords that Hewitt had left behind.
Thom eyed her curiously. “Looking to relive the glory days?”
“I’d hardly call them glorious.” She tossed a sword to him. “But I do enjoy beating you.”
Together, they stepped into the paddock. Evylin expected to feel something at being back in the place where she and Hewitt trained together—a thrill of sorrow or a nostalgic wistfulness. Yet, there was nothing—just a vague sense of peculiarity, as though she were walking through a dream.
Determined to clear her head, Evylin twirled the sword and set up to face Thom. He took a deep breath before dropping into his stance. “This isn’t going to be fun,” he quipped. “For you or for me.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“We haven’t sparred in almost a month, Evie. You’re going to beat me in ten seconds flat.”
She smirked. “That’s a lot of confidence for a man going up against a Warrior.”
He gave a mock laugh, then tightened his grip and attacked, slashing down with his sword. She defended with a resounding clack. The first strike settled her mind, proving that dueling was going to be the perfect distraction for her disjointed thoughts and feelings.
They ranged around the paddock. Though holding back a little to prolong the bout with Thom, Evylin channeled all her frustration into the practice.
All the anxiety she felt for Deckard, currently dealing with her father’s demands.
All the grief from saying goodbye to Hewitt.
The disappointment that still clung to her from Auden’s death.
The fear of what was to come. The concern toward Deckard’s attachment to Space and his seeming discomfort with touching her.
The vibration of each hit charged through Evylin’s arm and into her chest, shaking off every thought but the moment before her.
Her focus narrowed on the blade in her hand and the one Thom held.
At first, she won every fight with ease, just the way they’d expected.
But soon, she eased her effort, allowing Thom to get in good practice of his own.
It turned out to be a solid exercise for her as well, reining in her skills and increasing her endurance.
After a bout that lasted for a full, tiring five minutes, Thom backed away. “All right,” he heaved. “I need a break.”
Evylin grinned, sucking in a deep breath of her own. She’d only just begun to get winded, her body warm and her skin tingling. “You really are out of practice,” she teased.
“It doesn’t help that you’re naturally better than me,” Thom said, taking a seat on the paddock fence. He dropped his head back and took a labored breath.
Evylin hopped up next to him. The afternoon sun created a small flare against the window of the smithy. Metallic clanging rang through the open doors as Devaan worked inside. Evylin had yet to say hello, having only met her brother-in-law a handful of times in the past.
Evylin wondered if the rest of her in-laws would ever return.
After seeing Druan in Loclight, she held a glimmer of hope that her sisters’ husbands would find their way back to their wives.
It made her realize just how important their mission was.
The Centurial War would not end if they didn’t end it themselves.
Families would be torn apart for generations more until the entire countryside was left vacant.
But how many men would wish to return to their quaint lives after having explored the country? Would something so small and mundane be enough?
“Thom,” Evylin said, staring at the smithy door, “do you think you’d ever want to move home?”
He looked down at her, brow furrowed. “Like to Stocburrough?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She met his sharp eyes. “Why not?”
“It isn’t my home anymore, Evie,” he said. “It hasn’t been for five years.”
“But your family is there.”
“No,” he nudged her elbow with his, “my family is here, traveling with me.”
She gave him an amused smile. “That’s adorable.”
“I was born to be a romantic.”
With a chuckle, she nudged him back. “So you’re going to follow Jonn and me around for the rest of your days.”
“That’s the plan.”
“And what happens when you find a woman worth marrying?” she asked.
He gave her a sly grin. “I already have.”
Her expression grew flat. “If you’re referring to Calyn, you can stop right there.”
“It’s a joke,” he said, then added, “Unless she’d actually have me.”
“Stop that.”
“Why?” Thom shrugged, turning to stare at the sky. “She’s lovely, sweet, and pliable. I could be very happy with a wife so devoted to my whims. And it helps that she’d be more than willing to bear plenty of my children.”
Evylin shook her head. “I don’t like this version of you.”
“What version?”
“The cynic.”
“Cynicism is part of my charm.”
Evylin pierced him with her glare. “You don’t want a simple wife, Thom. Yes, Calyn is lovely. She would dote on you to distraction. You’d enjoy her company for a while, and you might even come to love her if you’d let yourself.” She frowned then. “But you wouldn’t be happy.”
“Why not?” Thom asked sadly, almost as though desperate for her to be wrong. “Why couldn’t I be happy with a normal life? Why should I pursue something that I may never find?”
“Because you want more,” she said. “Just like Jonn. Just like me.”
“Maybe I’m tired of wanting more.” And Thom did look tired. His expression was almost harried, his eyes dulled. “Maybe I just want to be happy with who I am and what I already have.”
Evylin offered him a soft smile. She took his hand. “You’re a much different man than when we met four months ago,” she noted. “I have a feeling that the same will be said four months from now too.”
Thom’s chin dipped, but he didn’t reply.
Evylin let him hold onto his reluctant thoughts. She squeezed his hand, then released him. “So,” she said, “you plan to follow Jonn and me wherever we go. What if we go to Stocburrough?”
His brows drew together. “What? To live?”
She nodded.
Thom scoffed derisively. “Sure, yeah. And Raff’s going to find himself a pious woman who’ll change him into the picture of an Allorian gentleman.”
“I’m serious,” Evylin said, even as she laughed with him. “What if we all moved to Stocburrough and built a life there with your family?”
Thom eyed her as though trying to puzzle her out. “You wouldn’t want that.”
Her shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. “But Jonn might.”
A sharp laugh burst out of him. “Evie, you really are predictable,” he said fondly. He gave her a pointed look. “Jonn does not want to live out his days in Stocburrough.”
Ignoring his offensive comment, Evylin raised her brow. “You’re sure?”
“Deckard can’t shrink to that world again,” he said with certainty.
“It’s too mundane for him. He’s always been an idealist, and he likes to imagine that the world should measure up to the perfect standards he holds.
It’s why I was so determined to prove myself to him.
I didn’t want to disappoint him like everything else in his life. ”
Evylin nodded, understanding. “He wants to be Euon Sergus.”
“Bloody Sergus,” Thom agreed. “He just won’t admit it because he doesn’t want people finding out he’s as selfish as the rest of us.”
“Do you think he realizes it?”
“Realizes that he’s in denial of harboring delusions of grandeur?” Thom scoffed. “Of course not.”
Evylin tugged on her rings and sighed. “Then I’ll have to help him figure it out.”
“Good luck,” Thom grumbled. “He’s been lying to himself for at least thirty years.”
Running her fingers along her wedding rings, Evylin scanned the empty paddock. She’d sat out here so many times as a child, watching the horses or playing with Ryen. This had been her refuge in the village. And now, it held only memories.
“By the way,” Thom said lightly, “I meant it.”
Evylin looked up at him.
“Wherever you and Jonn go,” he smiled, “I’ll follow.”
They shared an affectionate look, and he hopped off the fence. “Ready to go back?”
Evylin shook her head. “I have somewhere to be, actually,” she said, joining him as they walked out of the paddock. “If Jonn finds his way free of my father anytime soon, send him my way, would you?”
“And where shall I tell him you’ll be?”
Evylin glanced toward the edge of the village. “At the kirk.”