Which reminds me . . .
“You take too many chances with a stranger,” I warn her. “Leaving the village. Coming to this place.” I place my own boots on a large rock, my sword following it there.
A crack of thunder follows my words, bringing a heavy rain with it.
“Would you prefer for us to be stuck in that?” Aedre adds her own boots to my collection.
Rolling my breeches up, I don’t relent. “For a woman who trusts Southerners so little, you have put yourself in a dangerous position. Being alone with me in here.”
Neither of us move.
“I could rape you.”
“But you will not.”
“Another man might.”
“I’ve seen twenty-five summers without being touched by a man. Surely I can continue to defend myself without your guidance.”
“Never been touched by a man?” I repeat, the words more of a challenge than any I’ve faced with my sword.
“In the way you speak of.”
Ah. Which means . . .
“But you have been kissed?”
Not my question to ask, but I do so anyway.
“’Tis none of your concern.”
Aedre’s annoyance is obvious. Mayhap she resents my meddling, my unwanted warnings. But I suspect there’s more to it.
Another loud crack fills the cave. Although not deep, it’s wide, and the stone overhead high enough to easily accommodate us. Only a few steps would bring me to her.
“I don’t wish to insult you.”
“Would you tell one of your men not to find himself alone with another even for the sake of staying dry?”
I am about to remind her my men are, in fact, men, when I remember her trick with the knife.
“You surprised me once, but it would not happen again.”
Aedre rolls her eyes, obviously annoyed by the discussion.
“You will not rape me, so can we stop speaking of it?”
“And you know this for a fact?”
“Aye.”
“How do you know it?” She is right, of course, but I still wish for her to understand the danger.
“Though a Southerner and a noble, you are also an honorable man.”
She says it with such disgust, as if she wished it were not so, and I laugh.
“You believe so?”
“Aye.”
Aedre doesn’t explain the basis for her judgment, but since her words are indeed accurate, I’ve no argument to give.
Instead, sitting beside my belongings, I say, “Tell me of the Elderman.”
Aedre moves toward me and hikes up her skirts as she takes a seat, giving me a brief glimpse of her bare legs before I look away. When I imagined this journey, not once did I consider the possibility of finding myself trapped in a seaside cave during a raging storm with a beautiful Garra.
“Father Beald is a hateful man who wishes to establish a church here in Murwood.”
“He does not know your history well, then.”
When the kingdoms split, a group of men and women who disagreed with some of the views of King Onry of Meria’s second son came here. Determined not to allow the Prima and his army of religious men to control them as King Onry had, they took to the sea for trade. Only years later, when both kingdoms accepted they would not be able to claim Murwood End as their own after many failed attempts, did they open once again to trade with those who inhabit their own island.
Voyagers were born. Their ties to Meria, Edingham, and certainly to the church, were severed.
“He is a fool. But a dangerous one.”
“How is that?”
It strikes me this is the first time I’ve seen a look of hatred on Aedre’s face. She’s never looked at me this way, not even when we first met.
“He has the ear of the Prima.”
Father Silvester.
From humble beginnings in Galona, he rose through the ranks of the church like an arrow, once even managing to convince the king to award him the port town of Avalon, now the seat of the church in Meria. The man’s ambition is endless. Galfrid dislikes him but is forced to tolerate him. The church’s involvement in both kingdoms has caused more tension than not throughout the years.
“I will speak with him.”
Aedre startles. “Why?”
For a simple reason. “Because he scares you.”
She opens her mouth to argue but then shuts it again. The truth of my words is evident to us both. I’ve no need to ask the reason. Though it’s been some time since the Garra were openly persecuted, their history of harassment at the hands of the church is long and storied.
“I commit no crime here.”
“Nor would you be considered a criminal if you were in Meria. But that does not stop him from harassing you.”
She does not deny my words, which means I am due a stern discussion with this Elderman. While Galfrid is still king, Silvester’s men are not to torment our people. Even the Voyagers of Murwood, who do not recognize any authority beyond their own.
“You cannot do such a thing.”
“I can, and I will.”
As we speak, the rain begins to slow. The beauty of the moment strikes me. Aedre is beside me, framed by the opening of the cave: a wall of water, only sand and sea beyond it.
When I look at Aedre, she is gifting me with a rare smile.
“You think highly of your skills.”
“Just my connection to men your Elderman would rather not anger.” I find it necessary to add, “I am not the enemy, Aedre. I’ve no wish to harm you or your grandmother. You’ll find most Southerners more tolerant than you believe.”
“And some who are not.”
I cannot refute her words.
“You’ve no dishonorable men or women here in Murwood?”
Her chin rises. “Aye. But even the most dishonorable among them understand the danger of being beholden to the whims of kings or Eldermen.”
The rain stops as quickly as it started, but neither of us move. Looking at her here, in the murky light of the cave, the distance between us so small, I wonder again what it would be like to kiss her. She’s been touched by a man before, but how?
Does it matter?
I will leave when
