Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (30 page)

“Come on, you’re telling me there’s no one back in Ramath? I saw hundreds of good looking girls when I was there.”

Rupert looked a little befuddled. Aeden continued, “Not one got you a little excited? I would go to the market district every day when I was there and while browsing the stores I’d also browse the … err … selection. The women of Ramath are not as comely as they say in Elbeth …”

Rupert shrugged as he retrieved another large stick. “I guess there were a few that looked ok.” He smiled, then snorted. “Ok, there was one that looked pretty. But she was a nobleman’s daughter and so I never really had a chance with her …” Rupert said wistfully, “But her shoulders were … well I’d never seen shoulders like that!”

Aeden stared in amazement at the gangly boy. “Her
shoulders
? You found a hot girl and the most you could say about her was her
shoulders
? Are you ok?”

Rupert snorted again. “I like shoulders. Good shoulders carry good heads.”

Aeden remarked, “Man, if you were Priam, I’d punch you in the stomach and wrestle you to the ground for only admitting to like a girl’s
shoulders
.” He shook his head and chuckled again as he picked up another dead stick.

Rupert continued, “Speaking of Priam, Betha and I were talking during the march today, and we think it would be good for you if we had a little memorial for him tonight. I mean, he might not be dead, but he’s gone and definitely not safe if he is alive … so … would that be ok?” Aeden fell silent. He picked up a few more sticks. Rupert went on, “We don’t have to. Betha just thought you’d like that. She loves music and says she can’t wait to hear you sing again …”

Aeden glanced up at him. “Really? She said that? I didn’t know she liked music. Ok, I guess we could do that.”

“Do you fancy her?”

“Fancy her?”

“You know, Betha.”

“Oh. I don’t know. She’s nice, I guess.”

“That’s it?”

“Ok, she’s more than nice. I don’t know. Yeah, I like her. But …”

“But what?”

“It’s just that, well, my whole life I’ve always gotten what I wanted. No one ever said no to me. Except for my father, and he could be pretty brutal about it sometimes. But were I ever to say to a girl that I … wanted her, she’d be mine at the drop of a hat. Something tells me Betha is not like that.”

Rupert grinned. “What gave you that idea?”

“I guess that I’m just afraid that if I told her I liked her, she’d say she didn’t like me back. Or that she’d laugh.”

“Or maybe that she would like you back and you would have to stop objectifying her by her looks and swordsmanship skills and start loving her for who she is inside?”

Aeden stared at his small friend, mouth open.

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, Rupert, uh … no, you’re good. Maybe you’re right, I guess I’d never even thought of that.” They continued on in silence, stopping occasionally to retrieve a fallen branch. “What are you afraid of?”

“Death.”

Aeden chuckled, “Well, aren’t we all. Though I suppose you may have chosen the wrong adventure.”

“Oh, not just death itself. I mean, I don’t believe in an afterlife. I don’t believe in the Creator. When I die, I will stop thinking, and so I won’t even know that I’ve stopped thinking, so what’s there to be scared of? But I’m more scared of being scared of death. You know? Like when I’m in the moment of death, and I lose it? That I chicken out? I want to be able to face death, well, in the face, and not freak out about it. Just get it done and over with.”

Aeden thought on this a moment. “Yes, I was right.”

“What?”

“You are a strange one.”

“Come here.” Rupert had set down his bundle of branches and beckoned to Aeden. He likewise set his down and approached his friend.

“What is it?”

“Something we do in the society. Not often, its kind of a … I don’t know, a ritual or something, but …” Rupert flustered, but then took the last step to Aeden and placed one finger on his forehead. He held it there for a few moments, and Aeden could hear him in his head. Not a voice, just a presence. And he felt strengthened. He hadn’t realized it, but he was quite apprehensive about the mission, about surviving it and returning to his mother, about not forcing her to live through yet another one of her children’s deaths. He realized Rupert was giving him a great gift, and simultaneously sealing their friendship with an act of compassion. Friendship. Priam was his friend, but he was gone. He had never had any others, and now this was different. Better. He never realized how lonely he had been until the absence of a true friend was suddenly filled with a truer friend. Rupert hastily pulled his finger away and gathered his branches. “Sorry, I just thought … you needed it.” He walked away, and Aeden looked after him.

“Thanks, Rupert.”

Rupert called without looking back. “We’re late. We should get back.”

Arms filled with wood, they returned to the camp, where Frederick and Gregory were midway through constructing something to hold a pot over a fire, while Betha looked on, providing less than helpful suggestions. They dumped the firewood next to the contraption and Aeden set about arranging his bedding while Rupert took Betha aside and Gregory finished his work. Darla and Frederick left to search for some herbs to season the stew that Betha and Gregory had started, while Aeden and Rupert continued their talk of women and “shoulder girl”, as Aeden referred to Rupert’s one-time love interest.

Later, the stew finished cooking, they all sat on the ground and shared in a rare communal meal together. Some began to eat, at which point the master healer asked that they communally thank the Creator for their meal and safety on the journey thus far. They agreed, some not quite as willingly, and they all raised their heads as the master intoned his prayer. Once complete, they resumed eating, laughing at the jokes and banter that continually poured from the mouths of Frederick and Darla.

Towards the end of the meal, Darla fell silent and looked at Betha, who nodded. Darla announced, “Well, enough with Frederick’s lame jokes. We thought that it might be a good time to say a few things about the prince’s buddy,” she said, nodding over to Aeden. The sun had set and twilight lay about them as the fire roared and flickered on the faces surrounding it. She continued, “He was a good kid. Didn’t get to know him much myself, but he seemed great.”

Betha nodded. “Priam, I could tell, was going to become a good friend, had I gotten to know him better. The way he and Aeden talked and laughed and wrestled, you could tell what good friends the two of them are. I hope ….” She paused, “I hope, he’s safe, or in a good place.”

Rupert began, “Priam was a bit of a jerk to me.” They all stared at him. “Oh don’t misunderstand me. I like the guy. In fact, most people are jerks to me before they get to know me. Once they get to know me, then they’re just awful to me.” He snorted, delighted at his self deprecation. Darla rolled her eyes. He went on, “But after awhile, he was very good to me. We come from similar backgrounds, he and I. My parents weren’t exactly poor, but we were not noble by any means. He understood that and was kind to me in the end. I’ll miss him.”

The master healer cleared his throat. “I fear, not that he is dead, but that he has come under the influence of Lord Shiavo. I’m sorry to be blunt: it is truth. But you are all correct. Priam was of the highest caliber. That is why I invited him to the society. He was young, but he seemed wise and mature beyond his years …”

Darla interrupted, “Then why was he hanging around this guy?” Aeden shot her a wicked look and Frederick laughed, though slapping Aeden on the back.

The master resumed, “And he had such potential as a healer, and as a true rohva. Aeden, if he is alive, we will find him. And we will save him.” He finished, looking towards Betha, who nodded solemnly.

Aeden looked at them all, and said, “Thanks everyone. Priam was my best friend. I had lots of friends growing up, and there are lots of people back in Elbeth that think I’m their best friend or that I’m great or try to suck up to me … but Priam never did that. He was just … real. And great. And fun. Even when he was lecturing me about not leading girls on, or letting poorer boys think I was their best friend in the world and getting them to do anything for me …” Betha gave a disapproving look, “… he did it in a way that always caught my respect, and even when I ignored him, which was often, I respected him. He …” his voice caught and he closed his mouth, but no tears came. He sat there, nodding. They all sat in silence for some minutes.

Betha announced, “Well, I for one want a song. Aeden? Sing for us? What was Priam’s favorite?”

Aeden shook his head, “Not now. Please.”

“Ok. May I sing then?” He held out his hand, extending his permission. She paused, and, with a voice as the Seraphim in the presence of the Creator, began,

“May heaven shine it’s light around thee and grace thy path before,

It’s hand to fill the void before thee and banish all thoughts of yore.

Take courage, friend, and understand, thy destiny now told:

To travel to the fields of glory and greet all who passed before.

May our Creator bind the hands of those who now oppress,

And send his Seraphim to scatter those who us aggress,

Go forth, my friend, now, at the end, return unto the fold,

Stand with our kinsmen in the house of him who us doth bless.

May we all now who still remain stand firm with hand in hand,

And face our foes, who, heaven knows, will surely meet their end,

But should we fail and come to meet upon the fields of gold,

Then fate and love and duty bind us, our pathway to ascend”.

The song fell silent, yet the music hung in the air as a dream suspended before them. None but the master healer and Darla had ever heard her sing before. Aeden stared at Betha in wonder. Rupert mouthed “Wow!” Lady Ellen wiped her eyes, and the master healer’s glistened like stars. Peaceful silence pervaded the camp for several minutes, the crackle of the fire echoing off the trees and through the woods.

Aeden said, “Amazing, Betha.” He smiled at her. She smiled warmly back. He sat up straighter, and continued, “Very well, Betha. Priam’s favorite song. He learned this in the pub, I’m sure, before teaching it to me.” 

Aeden started, and before he finished the first line, Frederick said loudly, “I know this one …” and he joined in, along with Edwin and Gregory, the song apparently being quite popular at all the pubs the three frequented.

“John Fitch was a goatherd, cheap ale did he drink,

His wife a good barmaid was good for a wink,

‘dear maiden’ he told her, ‘be not such a flirt’,

She laughed, and splashed ale on his face and his shirt.

‘fair maiden’ he pleaded, ‘do be more reserved’,

‘I am cultured, I’m mannered, and far more deserved,

Of a wife who will honor and show me respect’

So she kissed a drunk patron, her tip did collect.

Around all the barstools the maiden did dance,

And did sit in laps of the men with no romance,

Cheap thrills did elicit a small coin or two,

And John Fitch, he just sat there and cried in his brew.

‘My lady, my lady,’ the poor cuckold cried,

Why taunt this old goatherd with whom thou hast lied,

Thy children who sit all alone with their nurse,

Would cry at this scene so self-willed, so perverse.

‘My husband, dear fool’ was the barmaid’s reply,

‘I am loyal, but only to those who will buy

me a costly white gown, or a queenly perfume,

but your poverty it could not buy us a broom!’

Poor John Fitch, the old goatherd he had no reply,

so he watched, hopping mad as she sat on the thigh,

of a nobleman come to escape from his wife,

who did pester and nag, causing all sorts of strife.

‘Dear sir, know you not that my wife here is now,

on your lap,’ the old goatherd did awkwardly bow,

‘Please hand her to me … oh no, please don’t get up!’

And the nobleman hit the old man with his cup.

At the last verse, the men burst out laughing, the women rolled their eyes, but all were merry and content. The laughter and jokes and reminisces of Priam continued for a long time. Gregory retired to bed and the others started to droop.

Aeden said, “Thank you all for … everything—I really did not want to do this, but I’m glad you did. May I finish with one last song in Priam’s honor?” The others nodded, and he began, his clear voice sounding out in the dark woods surrounding them, each syllable drawn out long, marked by brief syncopations, the notes lending mysticism to words.

Dear Creator, Life, Light Bestow.

Guide fast, hear well. Fire, spring, glow.

Clear water, deep blood,

Cold tears, soft mud,

Sublime salted seed,

With hands, Light-Lord, sow.

The fire died down and Aeden fell silent. Rupert remarked softly, “I had not heard that one before. Is it sung in the communal halls?”

Aeden nodded. “It is sung at the feast of light—in the springtime, in Elbeth.”

Diana rose from the group and retired to her bedding, quietly announcing to the others, “We must march hard tomorrow so as to come quickly to the towns in southern Volda. Sleep well.” The rest of them likewise retired to their places, and slept well.