Page 35 of Swordheart
He shook his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I did not leave her behind when I went into the sword. She decided years before that she did not want to be wed to a man who might be gone for years at a time, and she cut the ties. It was for the best.”
“Oh,” said Halla. And then, “I’m still sorry. That must have been hard.”
He shrugged. “She was strong. Strong enough to know what she did and did not want. And there were no children to bind us.”
Strong enough to cut the tie and say to my face that love was not enough.
And a good thing, too, in the end. Enough people paid the price for my mistakes without a wife to suffer as well, or great god forbid, children.
No, when he died at last, if he was ever allowed to truly die, the world would forget the name of Sarkis of the Weeping Lands. He had neither son or daughter to carry on his line.
And thank the great god for that.
CHAPTER 11
They slept that night in a tangle where a hedgerow had run into a band of trees and turned into a dense thicket of brush. It was cold, but it was out of the wind.
“Tomorrow, an inn.” Sarkis frowned. “You will need to sheathe the sword, though. I expect our description has been spread about. Do women travel alone in your country?”
“Often enough,” Halla said, wrapping the cloak tight around her shoulders. “It won’t draw a great deal of comment. If I were younger or better looking, someone might care. As it is, they might think I’m being foolhardy, if anybody notices me at all.”
He scowled at her. “You are a fine looking woman. If your countrymen cannot see that, it is the fault of the decadent south, not you.”
Halla blinked at him, then felt a smile spread helplessly across her face. “That’s… that’s very sweet. Thank you.”
“I am not sweet. Did I mention that I’ve fought dragons?”
“Yes, but you also mentioned that it was mostly unsuccessfully.”
Sarkis grunted. “At any rate,” he said, “if anyone asks, I trust you’ll simply do that thing you do.”
“What thing?”
“You know.” He waved his hand irritably. “Begin asking unexpected questions until everyone in the conversation starts doubting their senses. It’s a talent. Like some strange form of diplomacy that goes so far in the wrong direction that it comes out the other side.”
Halla had to stop and parse that for a minute.
“Was that an insult?”Well, two compliments in one day was probably far too much to hope for…
“It was merely an observation. My lady.”
He added the last two words perfunctorily. It reminded Halla of the way that her late sister had said, “The gods bless you.” There was an implication that saying it took the insult out of whatever she’d said right beforehand, and if you didn’t agree to that, then it wasn’t her problem.
She tried to get comfortable against the tree trunk behind her. It was a losing proposition. Sarkis handed her the small pack to use as a pillow, but there wasn’t much to be done about the cold or the things poking her on the ground.
I swear the ground has gotten harder since I was a small child. Didn’t I used to fall asleep out on the hill behind the house?
Sarkis stretched out his booted feet and leaned against the tree beside her, looking as if he slept on the ground all the time.
He probably does.
Probably the ground is harder in the Weeping Lands, too. These are like decadent southern trees or something.
She knew that Sarkis probably held her in mild contempt.Mild if I’m lucky.She was slow and weak and she talked too much. And was from a decadent civilization with too many gods, etcetera, etcetera.
It’s probably easy to feel superior when you’re hundreds of years old and built like a wall. And nobly sacrificed yourself to become a weapon for your people, even if you lost.
She studied her right shoe. She wasn’t sure if she should take it off or not. There was undoubtedly a blister underneath it. She was mostly afraid her foot would swell up and she wouldn’t get her shoe back on afterward.
