She heard soft sobs and felt tiny jerks from Scaa. And then a long snort. Her love was indelicate, ill-suited to crying. She did so awkwardly at best, but such an awkward thing let Óraithe know this was no dream.
“I wish to protect you.”
Óraithe did not say the words. She could think of only one way to ensure her wish was made real and she would not wait any longer.
R
Rianaire
Rianaire stood over the yard watching as Gadaí finished drilling the gathered members of the guard. Eala was with her, watching mindfully and contemplating which of them would be promoted to positions within the standing army she meant to field. Marmar had been sent to each of the Regents that they ought do the same. The birds had not been gone long enough to expect any reply but if things went as Rianaire expected, the bulk of the replies would be self-aggrandizing, insisting that this or that Regency was far too thin stretched and important to supply the realm with able fighters. She had considered putting the threat of execution in the first papers that were sent along, but that would not tell her nearly so much as allowing the Regents to show themselves for what they were.
She let the thought of the letters and her need of an army shift to more present matters, looking over at Eala.
“Have you found a sense for it?”
“Hm?” The girl seemed only to remember Rianaire’s presence a moment later. “Oh, Rianaire. I apologize. A sense? For satyr tactics? I believe so. Unless you meant something else?”
She had not, but may as well ask beyond it. “And what of the guard?”
Eala’s lips made a frown as she thought deeply on the matter. “There are… a few. They lack in basic command understanding. They wish to be… kind, is a word I would use for it. Others are scared and soft. I was when first I saw Gadaí as well, I suppose.”
“We have time enough, for now. Be mindful in your choices.”
“Yes. Thank you, Rianaire.”
Eala had not looked over to her the entire time. She was earnest at least, though she required more attention than Rianaire would have liked. She was young, after all. There was perhaps a benefit in such a choice in the long term. Rianaire took her leave of the girl, making for the yard below and Gadaí who was finishing her work. The speed she showed was like nothing Rianaire had seen. The guards fared worse than her eyes at the work of trying to hold off the relentless press of attacks. Each, in turn, was put arse to ground before Gadaí let out a bark and lectured them, clearly annoyed at their slow uptake.
“A head must move before the hand! Fools!” Perhaps annoyed was too light a term. “You cannot best my speed! Not with hands! I am through with you! Come tomorrow.”
The satyr turned and clacked her hooves against the stone of the yard, making toward Rianaire.
“These are the ones who guard? Bahk! They would fall before they stood.” She began to gather the few things she had brought when an idea came to Rianaire.
“Gadaí.”
“Yes. I hear you.” Her frustration with the trainees was spilling over.
“I have had a thought. Where do you now stay?”
“Outside your walls. Away from the eyes and the mouths.”
“I want you here. In the Bastion.”
Gadaí looked at her unbelieving. She said nothing.
“You would be given your own quarters, of course. Treated as any other who calls it home, I will guarantee as much. It is something they would learn soon enough. I wish for you to consult with Eala as often as you are able. And to guide her. You know the fight we face.”
“This would cause you problems.”
“That, you will find, is something of a theme. I do not care for the thoughts of others, only that what needs to be done is done well.”
The satyr looked her over quietly for a moment, studying her face. “You are sure?”
“There is no other way to be. Though, being sure is not the same as being correct. All choices lead to others. Outcomes will be what they will be.”
“A frivolous way to live.”
Rianaire laughed. “I would say the same of people who waste time worrying over results they cannot imagine. Now, come. We will see you given a room and your things retrieved.”
“I must stay in the Bastion, then?”
Rianaire turned and started toward the stairs which led to the main doors of the Bastion. “You may stay wherever you wish. And move whenever you like. Though, if you decide you’d rather return to the horsefolk, I’d prefer if you let me hang you from your neck beforehand.”
“I would allow it, were I so foolish. They are lost, those ones. Lost to fear and pity inside.” Gadaí made a noise. “Tried to speak with them among these trees. To say we have no reason for this. No place in elf lands. They would accept only blood for their fear.”
They climbed the steps and Rianaire watched the stares from the gathered people as they did. A curious thing to them, but hopefully she could lead them to understand the value in Gadaí. They came to the top of the stairs and entered the hall. The attendants that would normally have swarmed her kept to the edges of the room, busying themselves in corners while failing to hide obvious glances. There was use in Gadaí beyond her knowledge of the hippocamps.
“You, boy.” Rianaire called to the smallest, frailest creature in the room. She knew few of them, leaving their employ in the hands of those they worked under. The unfamiliar boy looked at her with pleading eyes before finally walking shakily to her. “This is Gadaí. Find her chambers and have her added to the calls for my meals so that she can dine with me if she so chooses.”
“Y-y-y-y…”
