Alarik's Crusade

CHAPTER 12: GLASS

​Edda smiled as Farmund sat down after returning from his talk with the captain. She smiled, that is, until she saw that his characteristic grimace was even more downturn than usual. Farmund always said he wondered how someone of her standing and position had grown such a keen sense of the emotional states of others. The way he sat there, Edda’s knowing gaze on him, showed he clearly knew where the conversation was going. She’d eventually pull out of him whatever was on his mind. Might as well get it over with.

​“While I have tremendous respect for our captain,” he whispered, “I disagree with the handling of this situation. I believe we are in far greater danger than we let on.”

​“Ahh,” she said. “Worry. The standard emotional state of my good man, Farmund.”

​He didn’t laugh or smile, which concerned her further. Her good cheer always had an effect on Farmund’s sour tone, and almost always for the better. It was only when something truly important was weighing on him that she couldn’t break him from his stoicism. “This business about the Khorsuli boy… it’s not right. It’s abundantly clear it was done on purpose. Yet still, we’re here, exposed in the rainforest with dwindling numbers and down to one hunter. We should retreat back to camp and bring a stronger force, or abandon this crusade altogether.”

​“Hmm,” she said, her mouth downturned, big eyes filled with concern. “Well, you like the captain you said. He’s a good leader, right?”

​“Yes, ma’am. He’s a good one.”

​“Put some faith in him then. Let him lead. I’m sure he’s seeing the situation and he’ll deal with it.”

​Farmund nodded, facing the ground. He’d met many military and political leaders over the years. Often, they were promoted by name and lineage alone. The strong-willed and good-hearted would be passed over for those connected to wealth or the crown. Alarik was one of the latter.

​“You’re right,” Farmund said at last. “But as always, please be careful. Your safety is of the utmost importance.”

​“So I’ve heard,” she said with a smile. It faded, however, as she looked at Inaya slowly dripping water into Shalmanesser’s mouth. The poor man hadn’t eaten in days, and his already thin frame was shrivelled, all just bones and skin. Again, she found admiration for Inaya. First it came through her strength and determination, and now through her care. “What compels her to stay?” she asked out loud, mostly to herself.

​Farmund turned his head and looked over his shoulder. So often Edda's eyes fell on Inaya, albeit not in the way Cendric’s did. “A great friendship, I suppose.”

​“You don’t suppose they’re…”

“No, I wouldn’t think so. It’s the eyes, ma’am. They don’t look at each other that way.” He remembered back to their history, living in the port city of Theolar. He couldn’t imagine many Vanderik living there, nor being particularly friendly to the people of which they recently waged a war. “Perhaps theirs is a friendship of convenience. They watch over each other.”

“Such loyalty,” Edda said, tightening her lips and nodding.

“Can’t fault them for that.”

Edda nodded, still watching Inaya. She had his head tilted, delicately pouring water into his open mouth and letting it trickle down his throat. Before, she’d given him the juices from squeezed fruits and berries, but every time she tried she feared he would choke to death. Instead, she had to watch him drift away through strangely blissful starvation. His head lolled to the side and she spilled some of the water down his chin. She muttered what Edda assumed to be curses in the Khorsuli tongue.

“I’ve got to help her,” she said. Before he had the chance, she interrupted Farmund who was already leaning forward to stand with her. “I know - I’ll be safe. And no, this time you don’t have to join me. Just remember what I told you. What am I decidedly not made of?”​“Glass, my lady.”

“Glass. I’ll be back shortly.”

She took one step away and found it strangely uneasy. She’s offering to help keep a fellow crusader’s head steady. This isn’t a great risk. Why was she nervous? She almost turned back but realised she couldn’t face Farmund after having done so. Instead, she did a strange stutter and looked like she was doing a tremendous impression of her uncle after he had too much wine. Fortunately, she found Inaya hadn’t so much as noticed her. She was grimacing, trying in vain to hold Shal’s head up, tilt it back and pour water all at the same time. “Could I help you?” Edda asked, wincing after her voice cracked a little in the beginning.

“I can handle myself,” she replied without so much as raising her head. She tried again to pour more down his throat while holding onto Shal’s long, unkempt hair. The waterskin she held slipped from her hand and landed in the dirt, spilling its contents. She went on a rambling tirade of Khorsuli words Edda didn’t recognize, but understood the intent well enough nevertheless. “Look what you’ve made me do. You’re far more effective when you do no more than follow.”

Edda’s soft face reddened. She heard the tell-tale shifting of metal behind her.

“You’re ready to send your lummox after me, then? Hang me like you’d hang any that would disagree with the crown? I know how you Vanderik work. I know how you keep your control. I’m seeing now it’s nothing to do with competence to reach the upper class.” She spat the words at her, filled with venom.

“I just - I just offered to help, I saw you were-” Edda stammered.

“You’re no different. Don’t pretend you are. Look what you’ve done. You’ve come here, knowing full well that we’ll have to carry you through this. You came here because of your pride. You wanted an adventure. Well, you have it.” She turned Shal towards her. “Well, look at what your adventure has wrought!”

“I didn’t- I just wanted to help!”

“Why have you stayed? Why have you not returned home?” Inaya was shouting now.

Edda paused. She reached a hand back, only slightly, to usher Farmund away. She had to take care of this herself. If she caved now, and fell back on him as a crutch, she’d never find any independence. She took a steadying breath, thought of all that she had accomplished in getting as far as she had, and made a single remark she knew would sting. “Why haven’t you?”

Inaya squinted. “What do you mean, why haven’t I?” Her mouth parted enough to show just a glint of teeth, like an animal baring its fangs.

“As it sounds,” Edda pushed, finding herself. “I have healers back in Vanda. They can give your friend a chance. The army has healers. Just back at our camp, there would be some that could at least look at him. So why have you stayed?”

If it was just a glint of teeth before, now one could see Inaya was gritting and grinding them. “I stayed, because… who are you to point a finger at me and question my motives? What happens to you if you give up on this crusade? You return to a palace, a little worse for wear. What happens to me? There are no cushions to soften my fall. And you question why I want to stay.” She pointed a finger at Farmund. “Before you get too smug, ask yourself if you would’ve said a single word if he wasn’t here,” she said, softer and finding that control again. Immediately she stormed off into the rainforest again after laying Shal gently down, presumably to find more food and to cool down.

It left Edda standing there, in shock at her own words. Farmund didn’t know she had that in her. She stood in the face of conflict and didn’t back down.