Tag: reading

Fade to White

Fade to White chapter 9

Autumn

Fade to White

Chapter Nine

Tiptoeing through his lounge, Jerek was careful not to wake up Ramo who was still sleeping on the couch. Despite the late night before, he had gotten up early on the account of not being able to sleep anyway. She was the only thing he could think about. Every time he closed his eyes he could see her sitting with her back to him, wearing a long baby pink night gown, pulling her hair out of the braid in shimmering strands of red. He could also remember waking up briefly in the dead of night and listening to her cry.

Ramo hardly ever cried, that heaven for that. Making the decision in the spur of the moment, Jerek tapped Ramo’s foot. “Get up.”

“Uh.” Rolling over, Ramo buried his face into the fabric of the couch. “Why aren’t you tired?”

“I’m a god. Get up or I’ll tell the Commander not to give you any breakfast.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?” Ramo sat up quickly.

“Because I’m a cold-hearted bastard. C’mon, let’s go eat. I haven’t had a proper meal in a couple of days.”

“All right.” Bouncing up, Ramo stretched his arms above his head and asked, “How are you this morning?”

“Progressively worse since you got up.”

Jerek smiled slightly when Ramo punched him in the shoulder, and opened the door to go out into the corridors of the castle. Faint screaming echoed down the hallway, gradually growing louder and soon a girl appeared dashing toward them, followed closely by two soldiers before one of the tackled her.

“Disgusting,” Ramo murmured behind Jerek’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Staying where he was, Jerek watched in amusement. That girl looked familiar.

“Help me!” the girl suddenly cried out, lunging at Jerek. “Please save me! I don’t care what you do to me, so long as it’s not him!”

It was the teenager from Opal. He remembered her now. “Go on and leave,” he told the soldiers who stood and looked at each other with uncertainty before obeying. “Tell me.” Jerek crouched down to look at her in the face better as he addressed the girl. “Were you thinking that I would make use of you? Is that why you struck that deal? You’re a shallow little girl.”

“Save me,” the girl sobbed, reaching up and clinging to the front of his shirt. “I know you have a good heart. Otherwise, you would have never helped the children.”

“The children are dead.” Jerek pried the girl’s fingers from his shirt, then holding both of her wrists with one hand, reached to his leg where he kept a hidden knife. “As you deserve to be.”

The girl began screaming again, repeating the word “no” over and over, struggling against Jerek’s hold on her and trying to escape. Bringing the knife up, Jerek hesitated. She was crying.

“Not right before breakfast,” Jerek grunted, standing up. “I don’t want you ruining my meal.”

“Jerek! Make her stop!” Ramo suddenly burst out, his hands pressed against his ears, droplets sparkling at the corners of his eyes.

“Ramo, it’s okay.” Turning to Ramo, Jerek grabbed his wrists and forced his hands down.

“No Jerek! Make her stop! I can’t stand it! Make her stop!” Tears were flowing freely down Ramo’s cheeks as he grew closer to becoming hysterical.

“Shut the hell up!” Jerek roared, turning around and seizing the girl’s neck, lifting her up into the air. “Never scream like that, ever!” he yelled, shaking the girl forcefully. She choked and gurgled, her eyes bulging as her hands feebly hit and clawed at Jerek. “Stop that!” Thrusting his arm forward, Jerek slammed the girl against the wall, a loud smack sounding as her head made contact with the stone, then she went limp. “Are you okay Ramo?”

Ramo nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . .”

“I know. How did the girl escape anyway? She shouldn’t have been in this part of the castle to begin with.”

“Did you just kill my whore, Jerek?”

Dropping the girl, Jerek dusted his hands. “Commander and King, you’re becoming lax in your security.”

“Perhaps.” Kneeling down, Nosaj put his hand on the girl’s neck, then with a disgusted look he straightened and kicked the girl’s body. “I expect you to replace her. Someone young and fresh like she was.”

“I’ll think about it after breakfast.” Jerek turned around, but Nosaj stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Ramo, go on ahead. Jerek and I are going to take a little walk, then meet up with you later.”

“Okay.” Ramo was barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t that upset over losing one girl, are you?” Jerek shifted around, obviously impatient.

“No, no, this isn’t about that. Perhaps you’ve already heard, but it has recently come to my attention that there’s also a rebel group in the Amber Village. You know I like to have peace in my Twelve Villages, but currently we’re down to eleven, and I don’t want to be forced to destroy another one.” Tapping a bony finger against his lips, Nosaj asked, “What do you suppose I should do?”

Jerek shrugged, giving no other reply.

“Tch, Jerek.” Nosaj shook his head. “That’s disappointing of you. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll make a good heir, or if everything will just fall apart in your hands.”

“That depends on the strength of the kingdom my predecessor builds. If he hands me a weak kingdom, then time will take its course, regardless.”

“At least you’re quick witted in some areas. Now here’s what we’re going to do: we have one city that needs to be rebuilt, and another that needs to be divided. Do you see?”

“A relocation? Won’t that just put the rebels in both towns?”

“Their forces will be divided and communication with their leader will be cut off. We’ll also saturate both of the cities with soldiers so it will be difficult for them to reorganize, and it would take some very determined people to keep that silly little group alive.”

“What if they are that determined?”

Nosaj chuckled. “Then I’ll give them my kudos.”

“And you want me to take care of this for you?”

“I’m getting older, Jerek. I have you. I don’t need to go out on raids anymore. Why else do you think I saved you and raised you as my own?” Smiling, Nosaj reached up and patted Jerek’s face. “Go and join Ramo now, that boy’s waiting for you.”

“Oh goodie,” Jerek grunted.

“And Jerek,” Nosaj suddenly turned back around to face him again. “There was a woman brought in here the other day, claiming to be the leader of the rebels. I was really quite surprised to see her, especially under those circumstances, considering that for quite some time she had been paying me to turn a blind eye on her godforsaken farm. I’ll have a map of its location sent to you, and I want that farm destroyed. I’m beginning to think that maybe the house had been a meeting place for miscreants.” Starting to laugh, Nosaj added, “And all this time I thought it was a brothel!”

Turning around, Jerek walked off without a word in reply. He couldn’t decide which made him angrier, the fact that Nosaj didn’t tell him about the cottage until now, or that he had actually been talking about Tryne’s farm. He doubted that Tryne knew that her mother had been paying off Nosaj, because it was something that she would never accept. It had been hard fighting the urge to reach out to forcefully remove that smile from Nosaj’s face. It was insulting that Nosaj kept information from him, and as the future heir to the title of Commander and King, he deserved to know all of Nosaj’s business. He needed that trust, so that when he did take over he would be able to hold the Twelve Villages together.

Bursting into the dining room, Jerek caught Ramo by surprise and caused him to jump. Jerek huffed slightly as he looked at the place set for him, the plate piled high with scrambled eggs and warm fruit croissants. Taking a seat, Jerek used his fork to viciously stab a sausage.

“What did Nosaj want to talk about?” Ramo asked, leaning casually against his hand but looking at Jerek intently.

“Strategy,” Jerek replied, then quietly whispered, “And to flaunt in my face how much he keeps from me.”

“Oh.” Putting his fork into his mouth, Ramo paused thoughtfully. “So what are our future moves?”

“Massive relocation, from Amber to Opal. Half the city’s population with as few fatalities as possible, but we have to keep up the scare factor.”

“How are you planning on moving all those people?”

“Soldiers surrounding everyone with guns and swords. They’ll have no choice but to walk.”

“You can do it, no problem.” Ramo smiled, swirling his fork through the air before scooping up more eggs with it. “This morning’s breakfast is really good.”

“Yeah, it is.” After pausing for a moment, Jerek said, “I want to train.”

“Ooo Jerek, can I fight with you? It’s been forever since we’ve done that.” Excited, Ramo leaned forward.

“That’s because I’m way better than you. I’d break you.”

“Then you can fix me. Please?”

Standing up, Jerek turned to the door. “Better hurry then,” he said, looking sideways at Ramo. Jumping up, Ramo skipped as he followed Jerek to his personal training room. The walls were lined with swords, though most of them were nothing more than sparkly decorations. Turning, Jerek retrieved two wooden swords from the corner where they had been standing propped up. Tossing one of the practice swords to Ramo, Jerek then took off his shirt and dropped it to the floor where it landed lightly in a white pile. Flexing his muscles, Jerek picked up the second sword and looking over his shoulder at Ramo said, “I won’t go easy on you.”

Then he paused as the black mark on the back of his shoulder caught his eye. He was always thrown off by that tattoo, because he could never seem to remember that he had it, despite the fact that the ink in his skin was years old. It was Nosaj’s symbol, a snake twisted around a black rose that bore venomously sharp thorns. Ramo took off his shirt too, revealing a similar mark on the back of his shoulder, and picked up a sword, pointing it at Jerek and saying “En garde.”

Jerek chuckled, standing ready for Ramo’s attack. “I hope you don’t try any fencing moves. These are the wrong weapons for that.”

“I won’t,” Ramo said as he took a swing at Jerek, who brought up his wooden blade and blocked the blow, then thrust Ramo’s sword to the side and in almost the same movement struck Ramo’s leg.

“Ow!”

“Hurt already?”

“Well, you hit me rather hard,” Ramo said as he gingerly touched where his leg had been hit. “It’ll probably bruise.”

“Go on and sit down, I’ll just do some exercises.” Turning his back to Ramo, Jerek continued to swing his sword at the air. Ramo nodded and limped over to the wall, sitting on the ground with his back leaning against it.

“You’ve gotten a lot better.”

“I told you so.” There was a moment of silence before Jerek plunged into words. “So what does it mean when you can’t stop thinking about someone?” he asked, trying hard to sound casual.

“It depends, what kind of feelings do you have when you think of them?” Ramo’s back arched as he leaned forward with piqued curiosity.

“I don’t know. Kind of happy, kind of annoyed, I guess. I think I want to spend more time with this person.”

“Jerek, are you in love?”

“No!” Jerek brought his sword swinging down so quickly it made a hissing noise in the air. Sullenly, he added, “I’m just intrigued, that’s all.”

Ramo laughed, sounding relieved. “So such emotion has yet to happen to the great and wonderful Jerek, but who knows, maybe that’ll change sometime in the future.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Jerek hunched his shoulders, keeping his back to Ramo. “And don’t talk like that.”

The door swung open, revealing Nosaj who looked at them for a second before cracking a grin. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Jerek put down his sword and picked up his shirt, then pulling it on he walked up to Nosaj and said loudly, “We were finished anyway,” then continued past Nosaj.

“I meant to tell you, Jerek. I want the relocation done today.”

Jerek stopped. “Today?”

“Yes, if you would.”

“I don’t feel up to it today. I had a late night.”

Nosaj seemed to be a little surprised. “Very well then, tomorrow. We have to get this done quickly, you know.”

Nodding, Jerek pushed his way through the door into his sitting room and from there into his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Getting down on his hands and knees, he pulled out his secret stash of cigarets and lit one, but failing to receive any sort of enjoyment, he tossed it out the window. What he was craving was Tryne’s simple and wholesome cooking. What he wanted was to see Tryne again. He wasn’t in love, he couldn’t be, and yet he felt something in his chest . . . Maybe he was. The thought made him smile.

 

Fade to White

Fade to White chapter 8

Autumn

Fade to White

Chapter Eight

Footsteps echoed hollowly as Jerek strode quickly through the dark and empty hallway, barely stopping to throw open the large double doors that led into the lounge room of his chambers. He blinked at the light. Lying on the sofa near the large fireplace was Ramo, his eyes closed and his hand resting on a book lying open near his face. Jerek started to tiptoe across the rug to get to his bedroom door on the other side, but Ramo stirred and opened his eyes.

“Jerek!” He sounded relived. “Where were you?”

Stopping, Jerek watched Ramo sit up. “Is that a girl’s shirt?”

“Huh?” Ramo looked down at his chest at the frilly button up he was wearing, then laughed slightly. “I thought it looked good on me. Why didn’t you come home last night?”

“Maybe I wasn’t in the mood to see a man cross dressing. Why would you degrade yourself like that?”

Rolling his eyes, Ramo said, “Just go ahead and say that you think I’m sexy. You don’t have to be so guarded all the time.”

“I could give you one of my shirts to wear until you have a chance to change.”

“At least you aren’t hitting me this time.” Laying down on his back, Ramo crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh.” Jerek shook his head and pulled his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I was worried about you. After that raid you went on the other day, you were so ornery, then you disappeared.”

Sitting down in one of the cushioned chairs, Jerek asked, “Does the Commander know?”

“No, I covered for you. I almost thought I wouldn’t have to, but today at lunch he mentioned you. Jerek, where were you?”

“That village northeast of here, Amber.”

“No way, you’re kidding! Don’t you know what happened there the other day?”

“What?”

Ramo grinned, leaning forward toward Jerek and talking in a private voice, “A couple of our soldiers went there after you raided Opal, and guess what they uncovered? The rebel group, they’re in that town too! This woman started freaking out at them, calling herself the leader of the Resistance and spouting off how the Commander was going to fall, so the soldiers brought her here . . .”

“Alive?”

“Of course. How else could the Commander question her? I caught a glimpse of the woman before Nosaj shut me out, and she was really plain. She looked like the product of poverty: worn out and depressed. She was disgusting.” Ramo paused. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear about this. Did anyone recognize you?”

“They barely know I exist.” Jerek smirked, sitting back and crossing his ankle over his leg. “Of course no one’s going to recognize me.”

“I thought that after Opal, news of you would’ve spread like a wildfire. They still don’t know anything?”

“Ramo, don’t forget who I am.” Standing up, Jerek motioned like he was drawing out an invisible sword. “No one survived to tell any rumors about me.” Suddenly turning around, Jerek thrust his imaginary weapon into Ramo’s stomach. “I’m just that good.”

Laughing, Ramo said, “That’s what I love about you.” Stopping, Jerek stared at him then quickly sat down, an awkward silence sneaking in. “I’m sorry,” Ramo whispered. “I know you’ve told me about that, but it just slipped out.”

“I was wrong, that shirt fits you.” Jerek got back up to his feet and walked to the door of his bedroom.

“Jerek, please.”

Still facing the door, Jerek began speaking, “Do you know why we take the dead bodies of our enemies with us?”

“Sort of. They can’t have funerals, and sometimes they don’t know about the death for a long time.” Ramo shrugged. “So I guess we do it to break down rebellious spirits.”

“Legend has it that when a body is burned, the spirit burns with it and is destroyed, and that’s why we collect the corpses. Call it superstition on the Commander’s part, but by cremating his enemies he’s insuring that no one receives any supernatural help. It’s also why we burn all the buildings in a raid.”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“Future reference, I suppose. As future Second in Command, you ought to know these kinds of things, and it’s time for you to stop playing and start doing a real job.”

“Jerek! You mean it?” Bounding up, Ramo ran to Jerek, catching him in a hug as he turned around. “Thank you so much! You’ve made me so happy!” Forgetting himself, Ramo planted a quick kiss on Jerek’s mouth.

“Ramo,” Jerek’s voice was constrained. “Let go of me, and don’t ever do that again.” He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “That’s the most disgusting thing ever.”

“Oh Jerek, get over it! Quit being so tough all the time, it’s okay to show a little tenderness every now and then.” Ramo rolled his eyes. “Are you going to bed now?”

“You can’t come, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“No, I was just asking.”

“I’m locking my door too,” Jerek said as he went into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Rubbing his lips again, Jerek walked across the room. The worst part about being kissed was that the feeling remained long after the action was done. It was disgusting, and he didn’t understand why people would ever want to do it. He didn’t understand why he put up with Ramo’s little quirks all the time, no matter how often Ramo managed to repulse him. He didn’t understand why she was there in the back of his mind, pushing to come forward and whispering thoughts to him. He wanted her out. He had already gotten more information out of her than he had ever wanted, and he had no intention of ever going back.

Ken had lied to her about what happened to her mother. He should have told her the truth.

Jerek sat down on the bed and pulled out a cigaret, but after staring at it for a few minutes, he couldn’t bring himself to light it. Putting it away, Jerek kicked off his boots and lied down on his back, staring at the ceiling. Surely she’s noticed his absence by now, and he wondered if she would search for him.

“Jerek,” Ramo’s muffled voice came through the wooden door.

“What is it?” Jerek growled.

“The torches in the corridor have been put out.”

“All right, go ahead and sleep on the couch.” Jerek could already feel his strength leaking out of his body and going into the mattress; he didn’t want to be bothered to walk Ramo to his room.

“Not with you?” Ramo called, then as if he could see Jerek’s face, added, “Just kidding!”

“I ought to kill him,” Jerek grumbled to himself, but then a thought crossed his mind. “Ramo?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever want to leave the castle?”

There was a pause before Ramo answered, “Not really. This is the only place I’m accepted, where I can be who I am with no fear. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I guess because it gets a little lonely around here.”

“You aren’t alone, not with me around. We’re best friends.”

“I’m going to have nightmares now. Thank you and goodnight.”

 

About Me

Maturity

Autumn

As I’ve been reading the Fade to White chapters that I’ve been posting, I can’t help but find it jarringly jumpy — like most of what was in my head when I wrote it never actually made it into words. I want to go back and smack my 19-year-old self then tell her to stop reading so much manga.

Maybe at some point in the future I’ll rewrite it, because the story itself is cute. Or maybe I’ll be too engrossed in other projects to care.

Thank god I’m not 19 anymore.

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Macro tax
Fade to White

Fade to White Chapter 7

Autumn

Fade to White

Chapter Seven

During the morning Jerek and Tryne worked on small and menial jobs that felt more along the lines of busy work. Jerek couldn’t help the feeling that Tryne had turned her back on her normal routine, at least for the time being since all the things Tryne ordered him to do were directly related to their immediate needs. Just after midday, Tryne hung up her last wet apron on the clothes’ line and with a smile watched Jerek as he worked.

“Come on, let’s go have some fun,” Tryne called, waving to Jerek.

“Don’t you want me to . . . ?”

“No,” Tryne cut him off. Dropping the axe, Jerek walked over to Tryne who took him by the arm, once again leading him to the brook. Tryne hitched up her skirt, exposing her bare legs as she kicked off her shoes.

Jerek blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Haven’t you ever done this before?” Tryne asked, stepping into the water.

“No.” Jerek watched her curiously.

“What kind of rock do you live under?” Tryne kicked some water at Jerek. “Come on, it’s fun!”

“Wait.” Jerek shook his head, leaning against the tree with his arms folded. “You expect me to take off my boots and step into cold water where sharp rocks can injure my feet?”

“Yeah, that’s the basic idea.” Tryne tilted her head to one side, placing her hands on her hips.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You’re as much fun as a wet blanket.” Sticking her tongue out at Jerek, Tryne turned and walked out deeper to where the water was rushing around her knees. “Are you coming?”

“No.”

“All right then.” Tryne took a couple more steps, then almost fell with a loud and painful gasp. “Ow!”

“What is it?” Jerek asked, stepping closer to the bank.

“I stepped on something sharp. Oh my gosh, I’m bleeding!”

“I told you so. Well, come up over here, I’ll look at it.”

Tryne took a hobbling step, then looked pleadingly at Jerek. “I don’t think I can walk.”

With a sigh, Jerek plunged into the water, getting his boots and pants wet. He walked over to her, put his arm around her waist and lifted Tryne out of the water, then looked down at her feet which were clean and white, the clear droplets of water reflecting the sunlight.

“You aren’t . . .”

“Oh Jerek, my hero!” Tryne threw her arms around his neck. “You rescued me!”

“Liar.”

“No, I’m . . .” Tryne didn’t finish her sentence, cutting it off with a scream as Jerek dropped her. The splashes completely soaked her and plastered her hair against her head as she sat stunned while the water swirled around her chest.

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before lying to me.” Smirking, Jerek turned and looked at the shore, suddenly stopping.

“Tryne.”

Scrambling to her feet, Tryne exclaimed, “Ken! What are you doing here?”

“You’re wearing a white shirt.”

Turning to face the other way, Tryne looked over her shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting anyone till later.”

“I came early to see how you were doing.” Taking off his long brown coat, Ken held it ready. “But I see you already have help.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Tryne waded to the shore. “Come on Jerek,” she muttered as she passed him. Ken wrapped his coat around her shoulders when she reached him, then began pushing her back to her cottage. Stopping only to pick up Tryne’s shoes, Jerek followed closely after them.

“Don’t you . . . need your shoes?” Jerek asked, feeling an immediate dislike for Ken.

“Yes, thank you, Jerek.” Moving away from Ken, Tryne took her shoes from Jerek, her hands brushing his as she did so. Bending over, Tryne yanked on her boots before she then continued walking with distance between her and both of the men.

When she entered the cottage, Tryne shut the door on her followers and the clanking of the chain was heard as the latch was drawn. Jerek settled into a waiting position, leaning against the wall near the door with his arms crossed, but Ken paced around anxiously, looking up at the sky then into the forest repeatedly. Several minutes later, Tryne opened the door and Ken sprang to her.

“I’ll set up everything inside,” he whispered, glancing at Jerek then looking expectantly at Tryne before he disappeared into the darkened interior.

Tryne stepped outside, pulling the door partially shut behind her. “Jerek,” she said softly. “I trust you enough to include you in this.” Watching her silently, Jerek felt suspicious of what was going to come next. “I told you before that I hated Nosaj. Well, there’s a little bit more to it than that.” Lowering her voice, Tryne stepped closer to him. “I’m one of the leaders of a rebel group.” Taking his hand, she pulled Jerek inside, causing Ken to look disapprovingly at them as he set a large rolled parchment on the table. Opening up the parchment to reveal it was a map, Tryne continued, “There’s a leader for each of the Twelve Villages, each of them able to function as an individual group, but corresponding with one another. Now, I am . . .” Tryne paused, “digressing. Sorry about that.”

“Tryne,” Ken said gruffly. “Are you sure you want him to be here?”

“Yes. Tonight I’m announcing that the leadership over all the villages has transferred to me after my mother’s death. From now on, I’ll be deciding where we’ll go in the future and I’ll keep the communication lines open. Before anyone can make any major decisions, they must consult with me.”

“Do you know what you’re saying?!” Ken exclaimed in alarm, grabbing Tryne by her upper arms then almost immediately letting her go, looking away. “You’d do well,” he said, forcing each word out. “You’re determined enough.”

Tryne smiled. “Help me make a snack. These meetings always go better when there’s something to eat.”

“You are such a woman Tryne. Sometimes I can’t help but think that you’re time would be better spent raising children.”

Tryne laughed but didn’t answer, busying herself in preparations. Slinking down, Jerek sat on the floor by the door, retrieving his hat and putting it on before he did so. As the sky darkened, men and women showed up one by one, until the room was filled with newcomers. Both Tryne and Ken were familiar with the people, greeting each of them warmly by name and with the shake of the hand. Most of the gatherers didn’t notice Jerek in his position, talking to each other with delight mixed in with graveness.

After the door remained closed for several minutes, Tryne loudly cleared her throat. “I suppose we should get right down to business. As some of you may know, our sister village Opal was destroyed the other day by Nosaj and his troops!”

One of the members of the meeting spoke up with a calm and methodical voice. “I heard rumors that the one in charge of destroying the village was some sort of an heir for Nosaj, though no one seemed to know any specifics about this new person. Apparently though, this heir is supposed to be very talented at fighting and leadership. As soon as I get anymore information, I’ll pass it on.”

“An heir?” Tryne frowned. “If that’s the case, we’ll just have to get rid of them both. We can’t let them continue to ravage our neighbors anymore! The time is coming close for all of us to declare open rebellion!”

“Tryne,” Ken said softly, leaning close to her. “The support for Nosaj still runs too deeply in some villages, especially in mine. They would kill us before Nosaj’s troops even lift a finger. We can’t openly declare ourselves yet.”

“But we have to do something! We can’t let anyone else die!”

“I suppose now is as good of time as any.” Ken reached over, wrapping his fingers around Tryne’s hand. “Alara, Tryne’s mother, is dead. Nosaj’s soldiers killed her, though they didn’t know about her position. As usual, they took her body with them so we can’t have a regular funeral for her . . .”

“I wasn’t planning on a funeral,” Tryne interjected. “I’m going to take my mother’s place.”

There was somewhat of an uneasy silence, until it was broken by a female voice, “You’re such a nice girl.”

“Will you let me take this position?” Tryne asked.

Several people murmured, while others nodded. That seemed to be the final decision, because Tryne smiled in relief, but it was instantly replaced with surprise and fear as banging sounded on the door, hushing the group.

“Everyone’s here though, aren’t they?” Tryne looked at Ken, who was calm and somewhat smug.

“I thought I’d bring along a surprise for you,” he said, flinging open the door. A couple children shyly entered the room, seeming small and unsure of themselves as they were herded inside by their caretaker.

Clapping her hands, Tryne jumped forward and dragged the kids more into the center of the room, taking the baby in her arms. “Don’t be scared. Would you like something to eat?”

It was time to leave. Standing up, Jerek managed to slip out unnoticed into the cool and earthy air, which calmed him after the commotion inside. Walking past a few trees into the forest, he stopped with his back against the rough bark of a tree trunk and pulled out a cigaret, lighting it.

Everything made sense to him now. He had been wasting time cutting at the branches and trunks of the aspen trees while the roots remained hidden and safe right underneath his feet, sending up new shoots the instant his back was turned. The only way that he was ever going to destroy this rebel force was to strike at the roots themselves, and the main root seemed to be . . .

Jerek nearly dropped his cigaret, then chided himself. What happened to her shouldn’t be any concern of his. Yet he could picture her. He could see her long orange hair, her brilliant eyes, and her laughing smile, fading into deep sorrow as he . . . Jerek refused to think about that anymore. If Tryne had been more like a woman, then he could do it to her easily. Despite the fact that Ken had said that she was just like one, Jerek couldn’t make the connection in his mind. To compare her to the sniveling objects he had known all his life was an insult to Tryne. She was better than that. She was . . .

“Excuse me, what are you doing?” Tryne’s voice said right behind his head.

With a startled jump, Jerek turned to face her and the baby in her arms. “Huh?”

“Those are disgusting, and they smell bad.” Reaching up, Tryne took the cigaret out of Jerek’s mouth, dropping it and smashing it into the ground with her foot. “From now on, I forbid you from smoking.”

“What? You can’t do that.” Jerek didn’t really feel annoyed though. In face, he was smiling.

“And especially around a baby. You have no honor.” Tryne laughed, putting a finger against the infant’s nose and saying in baby talk, “Isn’t that right?”

“What are you doing out here?” Jerek asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be inside leading everything?”

“Nope, everything official has been said already. Besides,” Tryne gently twirled around with the baby, “I noticed you were gone so I came out looking for you.” As Tryne stepped closer to Jerek, the infant reached out and caught hold of the baggy sleeve of Jerek’s white shirt, trying to put it into his mouth to suck on. “He likes you.”

“I can see that.”

“Do you want to hold him?”

“No. I don’t want to.” Jerek took a step away, holding his hands up.

“Aw, c’mon.” Grabbing one of Jerek’s arms Tryne set the baby against it, waiting until he moved his second arm into position to hold the baby before letting go. The infant immediately reached up with a wet fist and pulled Jerek’s hair.

“He’s just like you,” Jerek said, looking and feeling very awkward. “He has an obsession with my hair.”

“He has good taste.” Reaching up, Tryne mimicked the baby and tugged slightly on Jerek’s hair, but he leveraged the baby to one arm and grabbed her wrist with a free hand, pulling it up so Tryne had to stand on tiptoes. In this position her body was brushing against his and he could see more detail in her eyes. There was a darker rim of azure around her irises, with a mixture of turquoise along with the blue, and there seemed to be more light reflecting in her eyes than there was in the air around them. Her eyes slowly closed, and in a sharp suddenness Jerek realized just how close they were. Letting her go, he thrust the baby to her.

“Take him back.”

Taking the baby and holding him against her hip, Tryne smiled slightly. “You know, after you left Ken openly said he didn’t trust you at all.”

“So? Why should he?”

“I don’t know, it just kind of seems like he’s jealous to me.” Giggling, Tryne added, “I’m going back inside now,” before she turned around and began meandering back toward the cottage. Jerek sat down on the ground with his back against a tree, planning when he was going to leave.

“Tryne.”

She stopped, and smiling turned around. “Ken! I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. I guess it’s getting too dark.”

Ken stepped out of the shadows, his dark eyes even more sullen that usual. After a moment, he said, “You remember my proposal? You didn’t turn me down, but you didn’t accept it either. You said . . .”

“‘I need to stay home and take care of the farm with my mom,’ I know.”

“I thought that was noble of you, putting off your future for your mother’s sake, knowing that I was in no position to take care of your mother as well as you. So we promised to wait.”

“I need to harvest this year’s crop . . .”

“No, Tryne.” Ken let out an exasperated sigh. “Quit making excuses.” An uncomfortable silence fell heavily over them, then finally Ken broke it. “You wanted him to kiss you, didn’t you.”

“You know I never felt anything like that toward you,” Tryne said softly. “I always thought of you as more like a brother.”

“I hope you’re making the right decision.” Moving one arm, Ken embraced Tryne and the baby. “You deserve to be a mother,” he said, patting the baby’s head but his eyes locked with Tryne’s. Smiling, he added, “You can always come back to me if he ever makes you cry. I promise.”

 

About Writing

Metaphor

Autumn

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Everything I experience is converted into a metaphor for my writing.

My worst fears are that someone will take the metaphors too literally.

Or worse, see through them to the truth.

Fade to White

Fade to White Chapter 6

Autumn

Fade to White

Chapter Six

A cigaret burned low in Jerek’s mouth as he watched Tryne, the tiny glowing light disappearing, so he took the dead cigaret and flipped it into the brook nearby, then looked up at the darkening sky and wondered how long it had been. It felt like hours, and Tryne was still asleep, but Jerek found himself unwilling to wake her. Thankfully the burden was taken off his shoulders when Tryne stirred and partially pushed herself up, looking blankly at the deep shadows around her.

“What time is it?” she asked, sitting up completely and rubbing her eyes.

“Close to sunset is my guess,” Jerek replied.

“Oh.” Tryne shivered slightly, though Jerek didn’t know why; it felt warm to him.

“Are you cold?”

“A little bit. We should head home now, and we probably ought to think about dinner.” Yawning, Tryne stretched her arms above her head.

Jerek got to his feet, then helped Tryne up. Her hand was cold, so when she started to move away he tightened his grip and began walking with her. Tryne smiled, slipping her fingers in between Jerek’s so that they were interlocking.

“I don’t even know anything about you,” she whispered. “Where do you come from?”

Jerek set his jaw, hoping he didn’t seem too hesitant in answering. “Several miles west. You could say I’m a hermit of sorts.”

“You dress pretty nice for a hermit.” Tryne closed her eyes. “I would’ve pegged you as someone of prestige.”

Jerek scowled. “So what if I dress nice? I like to look good.”

“You do look good, so don’t worry about that. What do you do for a living?”

Jerek solemnly swore in his heart that if Tryne was going to ask anymore questions, he’d shove her to the ground and walk away. “I’m a mercenary.”

Tryne’s eyes snapped open and she looked at Jerek narrowly. “You don’t work for Nosaj, do you?”

“No, never have.”

“I hate him! I hate his stupid dictatorship!” Listening, Jerek kept his mouth closed as Tryne talked. “I want . . .” she seemed to struggle to find the words she wanted to say, but she could only come up with, “to get rid of him.”

“Why?”

Jerek’s question shocked Tryne. “Why? Because he destroys villages and rapes women. That isn’t exactly what a good leader does.”

“But you can’t just get rid of him, that would create a power vacuum.”

“I know.” Tryne sighed. “Say, how do you get hired as a mercenary if you’re a hermit? How are people supposed to find you?”

“I go into the nearby villages. It’s not like I spend all my time alone in the forest.”

As they reached the cottage, Tryne gripped Jerek’s hand harder as she pushed the door open. “I can’t pay you much, but I can feed you anytime you want. Will you work for me?”

“Eh . . . sure,” Jerek grumbled, “But just as a personal body guard, I don’t want to get involved in your politics.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of forcing someone to fight for something they don’t believe in, no matter how right or just the cause is.”

“What do you want to hire me for anyways?” Letting go of Tryne’s hand, Jerek pulled a chair out from the table and sat in it backwards with his arms crossed over the back.

“My mom got killed, didn’t she?” Tryne answered coldly, before flushing with embarrassment. “I’d like you to help me out for awhile, taking care of the farm and going with me to the village.”

“You would’ve forced me to do that anyways.”

“I don’t have to feed you.” Tryne hummed as she pulled out a large knife with some carrots and broccoli. “Would you get the fire going?”

Jerek looked at the cast iron stove. The door to the fire chamber was open, revealing gray ashes with some partially burned wood. “It looks dead.”

“Underneath that. Stir the ashes a bit and put that dry grass on it, then blow.” Tryne shook her head. “Honestly, do you have servants that do everything for you?”

Jerek kept his mouth shut, fighting the urge to give her a sarcastic reply and following the instructions Tryne had given him. When he saw the little flame crackling up and consuming the grass, he couldn’t help but to feel accomplished. In his satisfaction, he grabbed a log and tossed it on the small fire, snuffing it out.

“Idiot,” Tryne said.

“What did you call me?!” Jerek sprang to his feet, clenching his fists.

“I think I’ve figured you out now. You probably have a tab a mile wide at all the taverns and inns in all of the Twelve Villages. I guess you really do spend a lot of time in town.” Tryne laughed, kneeling down on the ground in front of the fire. “You have to build the logs around it in a little fort, like this.” Reaching in, Tryne grabbed the wood and propped it up against a couple other pieces as Jerek crouched down to watch. “That way the air can get to it, and it doesn’t go out. Understand?” Tryne said as she patted Jerek’s cheek, leaving dirty soot marks.

Touching his face, Jerek smeared the black powder even more and he looked at the ash on his hand feeling rather shocked. On impulse, he reached over to Tryne to do the same thing to her, but she caught his wrist and pushed it away, using the motion to lever herself up.

“Water,” she said.

“Huh?”

“We need to fill that pot with water. We keep it stored in that barrel over in the corner.” Tryne pointed to the objects in discussion.

“Oh, right.” Getting up, Jerek retrieved the water like he had been asked.

“We’re just going to have vegetable soup, since I’m not much in the mood for slaughtering, and I doubt that you can.” Tryne dumped the chopped greens into the pot then put it on top of the stove, also grabbing a rag. Before Jerek realized she was even that close to him, she was wiping his cheek clean. “Soot doesn’t suit you,” she chuckled. Jerek stood still, unsure of how to act, but after a moment Tryne put the rag down and sat in the chair Jerek had occupied earlier, leaning with her chin in her hand.

Jerek gave her a strange look, cautiously sitting down in the only other chair at the table.

“You think I’m weird, don’t you?” Tryne buried her head in her arms against the table.

“Different,” Jerek mumbled, and even more quietly added, “Gutsy.”

“I know I just met you,” Tryne’s voice was muffled, “But could you stay tonight?”

Jerek jerked backwards and his chair started tipping. He scrambled to grab hold of the table edge, but failed and crashed onto the floor, dazed for a moment after hitting his head.

“Are you alright?” Tryne asked, standing up.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Jerek attempted to pull himself up but fell back down.

“Let me help you.” Hurrying over, Tryne bent and caught hold of Jerek’s arm.

“I’m fine!” Jerek yanked away. “Don’t touch me!”

Tryne popped down in surprise. “You didn’t seem to mind before.”

“That was before you asked me to stay.”

“What does that have to do with anything? I don’t see what’s wrong with it.” Furrowing her eyebrows, Tryne looked very confused.

“Oh dear God, woman! You’re sick! Perverted!” Shuffling back, Jerek seemed unable to get up to his feet without falling again.

“Wha-oh.” Tryne hit her forehead with the heel of her palm. “You’re the one who’s mind is in the trash, not me.”

“What?” Jerek stopped.

Bursting out laughing, Tryne explained, “You sleep in my mom’s bed while I sleep in my own. We’re not going to–eww.”

“But what was up with that whole ‘we just barely met’ line?” Jerek was suddenly feeling very stupid.

“You could kill me in my sleep for all I know, but I’m willing to take that risk.”

“You didn’t mean . . .”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Okay.” Standing up, Jerek held out his hand to help Tryne. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m glad we understand each other now.” Tryne laughed and turned to stir the pot on the stove. “So will you?”

“You aren’t going to touch me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yeah, sure. I guess I could.”

“Jerek, you never fail to amaze me,” Tryne said as she set two bowls and spoons on the table.

Picking up the fallen chair, a small grin snuck into Jerek’s expression. “I could say the same about you.”

Muse

Inspiration

Autumn

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From Pinterest

Some bad things happened, so I’m in a dark mood.

Fade to White

Fade to White chapter 5

Autumn

Fade to White

Chapter Five

As they rode through the crowded market square, Tryne looked around intently at the people in the village, but her eyes never lit up in recognition of the person she was searching for. When he passed a stand selling hats, Jerek leaned over and snatched a wide-brimmed western style hat and put it on to obscure his face, then almost passed Tryne who had stopped her horse to gaze around, seeming very lost.

“Tryne!” a man called, waving and making his way toward them. His face was sullen, with dark brown hair falling into his gray eyes.

“Ken!” she answered as she dismounted from her horse. “Where’s my mother?”

“Come with me Tryne,” Ken said more privately, putting his hand on the back of Tryne’s shoulders and leading her away. It was after they had been walking for awhile when Ken noticed Jerek following, and asked, “Who’s that?”

“It’s okay, he’s with me. Are we going to the inn?” Tryne looked intently at Ken’s face, searching for an answer.

“Yeah, come on then.”

Ken waited until the horses had been tied up and that the three of them were sitting around a table shrouded in darkness inside the inn’s dining room before he began talking.

“I don’t know how to tell this to you Tryne. Yesterday morning the Opal Village was attacked by Nosaj’s soldiers because they had rebelled and refused to pay the taxes. People are getting scared now.”

Tryne clasped her hands together and looked down solemnly at the table. “We still need to keep fighting. If we just keep expressing how important this is, then I’m sure people will gain courage.”

“Some children escaped the attack, and we have them at . . .” The man stopped and looked suspiciously at Jerek who had jumped slightly.

“Hey, where’d you get that hat?” Tryne asked, tilting her head to one side as she looked at Jerek with confusion.

“I’ve always had it,” Jerek grunted. “Didn’t you notice?”

“No, I suppose I didn’t.” Tryne frowned as she tried to think back, then after a moment she said, “I’d love to go visit the orphans. The poor dears must be so scared and lonely right now.”

Jerek shifted around uncomfortably, unconsciously pushing his hat farther onto his head.

“Who is this guy?” Ken gave Jerek a very strange look, leaning closer to Tryne.

“I don’t know,” Tryne whispered loud enough for both Ken and Jerek to hear. “He was around, so I brought him along. Now Ken, answer my question. Where is my mom?”

Ken looked down at the table then back up to Tryne’s eyes and reached forward to take her hand. “Yesterday afternoon a few of Nosaj’s soldiers were hanging around in the village. A couple of them started harassing your mother, and – you know her – she bit back. That made them mad, so . . .”

“No more.” Tryne put her hands up to her ears, staring down.

“Your mother is dead.”

She sank so that her forehead was touching the table, but Tryne didn’t respond in any other way.

“Tryne, I’m sorry. Look at me, please.” Ken moved his hand to touch the top of her head. “Tryne . . .”

Outside there was a sudden loud noise, followed by shouting and cursing. Jerek sprang up and ran outside just in time to see two men running off with Tryne’s horse as his own stallion stood fierce and proud in the middle of the road.

“No, no!” Tryne screamed, standing in the doorway behind him, staring in the direction the thieves ran off, then she furiously kicked at the doorposts, pounding the wood with her fists.

“Tryne, calm down!” Jerek grabbed both of her wrists, but she pushed against him. “Tryne!” he yelled reprovingly, and she stopped, her shoulders sagging heavily as Jerek added, “You can ride my horse.”

“You should go home and get some rest,” Ken said, nodding his head as he moved in between Jerek and Tryne, putting his hands on her shoulders while completely ignoring Jerek.

“I want to call a meeting,” Tryne said darkly. “At my house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure! Tomorrow evening at my house.”

“Okay, I’ll spread the word.” Ken looked uncertainly at Jerek, then gave Tryne a hug before walking away.

“Is there anything else . . .?” Jerek left his question hanging, his eyes narrowed at Ken’s back.

“I want to go home.”

Nodding, Jerek retrieved his horse and mounted it, waiting as Tryne clambered up behind him. With Tryne’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist and her cheek resting against his back, Jerek urged the horse to a trot.

It started softly at first, but as they rode on Tryne’s sobs grew louder. She clung to Jerek’s back, trying hard to suppress the tears but they forced their way out and shook her entire body. A new desire rose up in Jerek, causing him to feel uncertain. He had never had any sympathy for women before, because their tears had been for a choice they had made on their own, but Tryne wasn’t like them. She didn’t bring this on herself. Jerek wanted to somehow help her stop crying.

“Both of my parents died when I was young,” Jerek said, unsure of how that was supposed to make her feel better, but her sobs did soften.

After some time, she asked, “What were they like?”

“I don’t remember . . .” Jerek set his jaw, thinking. “I just know that they were in a house fire.”

“I don’t remember my dad either and Mom refused to talk about him so I don’t know anything. It was just the two of us growing up, and now she’s . . .” Tryne started crying again, harder than before.

This was counterproductive. Jerek searched through his mind for something he could do, but nothing came forward. He wanted her to stop crying, but he didn’t know what to say. “So . . . you’re alone now. That kind of sucks, I suppose.”

Despite herself, Tryne started giggling, mixing it in with the tears. “You have no idea what you’re saying, do you?” Her arms shifted around Jerek into what felt like a hug. “I appreciate your effort though.”

They continued the rest of the trip in silence. Tears streamed down Tryne’s cheeks, but her body was still and her arms were around Jerek in a tight embrace. When they reached the little cottage, Jerek found himself almost regretful that the moment had to end, but Tryne let go and slid off the horse.

“I’ll fix us something to eat,” she said faintly, walking inside and leaving the door open.

Jerek had barely tied his horse up when Tryne came hurrying out, a cloth bundle in her arms and fresh moisture in her eyes. “We’re going to stay out here,” she said quickly, and Jerek nodded, automatically turning to walk toward the forest where they had met earlier that day, but Tryne caught up to him, and putting her hand in his veered him off the right. “There’s a brook over here. We can sit by it as we eat.”

“Alright,” Jerek grunted as he made his hand go limp, but his fingers still curled slightly around Tryne’s.

After a few minutes they reached the stream, which gurgled and sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight as large smooth stones created dips and waves in the shallow water. Near the rocks that made the initial bank, soft green grass grew around a shady tree. Tryne sat underneath the shade and put down her bundle, adjusting her skirt as she looked up at Jerek.

“Come on and sit down.”

Jerek slowly sank, cautiously sitting on the grass. Tryne pulled out a round loaf of bread and a knife, then cut off a chunk and handed it to Jerek with some cheese.

“I’m glad you came today,” Tryne said, staring at the brook as she chewed. “I ended up needing you after all.”

Jerek shoved some of the soft bread in his mouth with a slice of cheese on it, like Tryne had done. The taste surprised him. Even though it looked plain and meager, the meal was good and satisfying. There was sort of a half-smile playing on Tryne’s lips as she watched him eat.

“You have beautiful eyes.” Resting her chin in her hand, Tryne stared dreamily at Jerek’s face.

“What?” Jerek looked at Tryne, shifting backwards.

“And your hair too. I simply adore it.” Reaching over Tryne took off Jerek’s hat and put it on her own head.

“Um, okay. Your hair is . . . pretty.” Jerek couldn’t help but reach up and touch his own hair to make sure it wasn’t in the shape of the hat.

“Thank you Jerek.” Laying back with her arms behind her head, Tryne moved the hat to cover her forehead and eyes. “I’m so tired . . . would you mind if I took a nap?”

“Go ahead,” Jerek mumbled, furtively reaching for more bread.

“Thank you Jerek, for everything you’ve done today.”

 

About Writing

Good Stories

Autumn

f24e20a9750162baae9aeeff02ed84b1

This advice changed the way I write.

The Hollywood depiction of writers is of them agonizing over a typewriter, coming up with the perfect way to phrase the last sentence before sending it off to be published immediately. They never have to rethink or rewrite anything.

I used to hold high standards for my first draft, so I did a lot of pre-writing and character sheets to ensure that everything would be solid by the time I started the story. The funny thing was, despite all the work I put into it before beginning, I never managed to finish any novels. I’d hit blocks and struggle with finding the motivation to write, then move on to the next idea that popped up. Then one day while I was talking to a start-up publisher, he commented, “There’s no such thing as good writing — only good editing.”

And the way I approached writing changed forever.

My first drafts are now a free flow of creativity. When I start that first sentence, I don’t know where the story is going to go — I write that down as it comes to me. I change my mind halfway through and jot down a note to edit the previous chapters for consistency. Then I change my mind again and scribble out that note. Sometimes, I don’t know what to do next and I write down random thoughts until the sentences start coming to me.

The second draft is spent cleaning up, rewriting, and fixing consistency. This is the part where I start to make it good.

Ever since I made that change to how I write, I have finished every novel I’ve started.

Fade to White

Fade to White chapter 4

Autumn

The first couple of chapters for Fade to White were a collaboration between me and my best friend in high school for our creative writing class. I quickly took over and completed writing the novella on my own, since I was the one who enjoyed spending hours and hours alone lost in my head.

We had a falling out after starting college, and I went back and completely rewrote the first two chapters so that the events would be entirely in my own words. Truthfully, it was more about preserving artistic integrity than petty revenge, because I thought that the differences in writing styles stuck out like a forum role play.

For the life of me, I can’t remember if my former friend ever saw the completed novella.

 

 

Fade to White

Chapter Four

Early morning sunlight spilled from the sky and danced around in patterns on Jerek’s white shirt as he sat on the ground with his back against a tree. Two horses stood tied to a branch nearby, one of them stomping his hooves impatiently. Turning her head curiously toward them, Tryne smiled and set her bucket of water down, wiping her hands on her apron before hurrying over to where Jerek lay. His eyes were closed.

“Hello,” Tryne whispered, kneeling down next to him, but Jerek didn’t stir. Gently, she touched his shoulder and he still didn’t respond. Quivering slightly, Tryne reached to brush the bright white hair away from Jerek’s face, watching the strands shimmer in the sun, then slid her hand down the side of his cheek, marveling at how soft and smooth his hair was. Glancing over at Jerek’s face, Tryne jumped back when she saw that his rainbow eyes were open and watching her. “I’m sorry,” Tryne stammered, “I thought you were . . .”

Jerek stood up and looked down at Tryne for a second before holding out his hand to help her to her feet. “I brought your horse back,” he said, turning to his own stallion to pull down the reigns, but he found himself feeling very reluctant to leave.

“You know, when I first saw you lying there I thought you had run into a tree again.” Jerek grunted and scowled, causing Tryne to smile. “Thank you,” she added, walking around the tree to reach her own horse’s reigns, her smile fading.

“Uh,” Jerek began, feeling very uncertain, “Do you have anything . . . that needs to be done?”

“No, not really.” Tryne sighed, patting her horse’s nose. “I’ll be going into town today.”

Sensing something in her voice, Jerek felt slightly alarmed. “Is there anything wrong?”

Tryne hesitated. “My mother never came home last night.”

“Hm.” Jerek shifted from leaning on one foot to the other, fiddling with his hands.

“I’m really surprised you asked to help,” Tryne said quickly, her voice sounding unnaturally lighter. “Yesterday you seemed so mad when I sent you out to chop wood. Perhaps you want to show off your manly muscles some more, and that’s why you came back?”

“You pry too much. Shut up.”

Looking at Jerek for a moment, Tryne spun around and marched away. “The only reason I’m bringing you along,” she said loudly, retrieving her bucket of water, “Is because it’s not safe for a beautiful young girl to travel on her own, and the only reason I’m inviting you to breakfast is to make sure you don’t go running away.” Tryne turned around and motioned to Jerek. “Come inside now.”

Watching her, Jerek felt unsure of how he should be reacting. Any sort of food sounded extremely appealing, considering how he had skipped a couple meals the day before, but . . . “Why should I eat with you?”

“Then you can watch me, but you’re going inside no matter what.” Putting the bucket of water down, Tryne looped her horse’s reigns around the rail post by her front door, then with her hands on her hips she started back toward Jerek. He remained where he was standing, allowing Tryne to completely close the distance between them. Then to his surprise and excitement, Tryne seized Jerek’s forearm with both of her hands and pulled him.

“Why are you so adamant on getting me into your house? Perhaps you want to show off your womanly manners?” Jerek couldn’t help but congratulate himself for his wit.

Laughing slightly, Tryne muttered, “That’s a good one,” then repeated it to herself faintly. “Pick that up, please.” She pointed to the bucket then opened the front door and waited patiently as Jerek tied his horse up, lifted the bucket, and went inside the cottage.

Tryne prepared the meal in silence while Jerek watched her, and after awhile she set down two bowls filled with hot porridge. “There’s some honey if you’d like,” Tryne said as she pushed one of the bowls to Jerek with a spoon, then she sat down and slowly began eating. Jerek stirred the mush around a bit, then cautiously lifted the spoon to his mouth. Hunger got the better of him at that first taste and he began to quickly shovel more into his mouth. “If you don’t mind,” Tryne said, smiling as she watched Jerek, “I’d like to leave after we finish eating.”

Jerek nodded, putting down his empty bowl. “When you’re ready.”

Several minutes later they were both back outside. Jerek easily mounted his horse, then watched in amusement as Tryne clambered ungracefully onto hers, and he felt tempted to ride around her in mocking circles. Moving in a slow trot, the two of them set off for the nearest village, Jerek riding easily and Tryne holding tightly to the reigns.