That silences me. For now.
When Kellyn says we’re nearing his family’s home, he adds, “Please don’t say anything about our troubles. I don’t want to worry them. You’re all friends I’m bringing home for a visit.”
“Do you usually bring friends over for a visit?” Petrik asks.
“No.”
“Then I’m sure this will go splendidly.”
Before the mercenary can respond, a shout of “Kellyn!” reaches us in a birdlike tone.
“Look, it’s him!”
“Kellyn’s home!”
And then a group of children are rushing him. He holds out his arms, captures all four of them, and then pretends to fall over from the force of their hug.
“We missed you!”
“Did you bring us presents?”
He rights himself and the children, before ruffling the nearest boy’s hair. “No presents this time, but I did bring some friends for you to meet.”
Three boys and a girl turn their bright eyes to us.
“Right, introductions,” he adds. “Ziva, Temra, Petrik, let me introduce you to Tias, age seven; Rallon, age nine; Wardra, age ten; and Kyren, age eleven.”
“I’m seven and a half,” the youngest boy argues.
“My mistake! How could I forget that half a year?”
“Because you’ve been gone too long,” the girl, Wardra, whines.
“I know. I’ve been working,” he says.
“Can I hold your sword?” Kyren asks.
While Kellyn tries to talk him out of that idea, I’m stuck staring at the little girl. She has golden-red hair the exact same shade as Kellyn’s.
“Who are these children?” I ask him.
“My brothers and sister,” Kellyn says simply.
“Come, look what we’ve been doing!” The children drag us over to a little pond hidden among the tall grass. In a section of mud near the edge, there appears to be a small fort of sticks, perhaps one foot by one foot in size. Within is a little green frog.
“We’re making him a home,” Rallon says.
“And what a fine home it is. He will be the envy of all frogs,” Kellyn says.
He’s so good with the children. His siblings. I’ve never seen him interact with kids before.
It … does something to me.
I find myself wanting to touch him again.
“Where is everyone else?” Kellyn asks after they discuss the finer points of frog houses.
“The little ones are at home with Ma. Da is in the fields with Dynar and Orta.” Then Kyren turns to me. “Next year, I get to help in the fields, too. I’ll be old enough then.”
“But you’re so strong already,” I say to him.
He smiles before hiding his face against his shoulder. Then he takes off at a run. “Kellyn, I’ll go tell Da you’re home!”
“Then the rest of us had better go surprise Ma, hadn’t we?”
The littlest boy and the girl hold Kellyn’s hands as they walk.
Petrik turns to Temra and me. “What happened to Kellyn?”
“He’s been replaced with some kindhearted sap,” Temra says.
The last boy jumps onto Kellyn’s back, and the mercenary doesn’t miss a stride as they all keep walking.
“No, I think he’s always been like this.” Maybe they haven’t seen it, but I have. I’m staring after Kellyn so intently that I don’t notice Petrik and Temra looking at me until I turn.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Petrik says.
“You’re smitten,” Temra says at the same time.
I roll my eyes, but I’m embarrassed to have been caught staring.
Mrs. Derinor looks amazing despite all the children she’s borne. Her hair is mostly gray, her eyes are crinkled at the sides, and a few lines stand out on her forehead, but she’s a remarkably lean and strong woman. Still, she looks exhausted with five little ones hanging off her. She has a child on each hip, one little boy wrapped around one of her legs, another one tapping her tummy to try to get her attention, and a young girl nearby is stirring a pot on the stove.
“Ma,” Kellyn says, stepping forward. He wraps her in a hug, careful of the two little ones she’s holding. Then he takes one baby and thrusts it at Petrik and keeps the other one for himself. While holding the little one, he somehow manages to dislodge the boy from around his mother’s leg.
“Kellyn, you’re home! We didn’t know to expect you,” Mrs. Derinor says. With her arms free, she steps forward to wrap him in a proper hug.
“Surprise,” he says.
“And you brought guests!” the woman says, sounding thoroughly delighted. I don’t understand how she could possibly feel that way with her house already overrun with children.
Kellyn makes the introductions, and the woman greets each of us in turn with a big hug. For once, I don’t mind embracing a stranger.
“We’re so sorry to impose, Mrs. Derinor,” Temra begins.
“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you! And please, call me Kahlia.”
Petrik is holding the baby Kellyn thrust upon him as though he doesn’t know what to do with it. The little one starts fussing, and Petrik looks around desperately for help.
“Turn her the other way,” Kellyn says, “so she can see the room.”
“I don’t want to drop her.”
Temra shakes her head before stepping forward to help him turn the child in his arms.
“Tias, Rallon, Wardra, go wash up and then set the table for dinner. We’ll need four extra plates for our guests.”
“Yes, Ma,” they say, and tread back outside.
Kahlia helps the little girl at the stove now that her hands are free and finally listens to whatever the little boy who had been tapping on her wants to say.
I lean toward Kellyn. “How many of these children are you related to?”
“All of them.”
My eyes widen.
“I have eleven siblings,” he says without missing a beat.
“You never said anything about them,” I accuse.
He shrugs before stepping forward to chat with his mother, Petrik wanders the house with the baby, and Temra and I help the children set the table. It’s a crude piece, with hastily-nailed-together slabs at either end to accommodate all the children. The top has been sanded down and is stained with years of use, but it’s even and manages to just barely fit in the kitchen.
We’re so busy performing our tasks that we don’t notice at first when Kellyn’s father enters the house.
But when I see him, there’s no mistaking his relation to Kellyn. He’s even taller than his son, closer to seven feet than six. His hair is more red than Kellyn’s, but their facial features are so similar. He’s also a bit broader than Kellyn, with a little more at the waist. I can imagine Kellyn looking like this in thirty more years.
“Son,” Mr. Derinor says, and they pat each other firmly on the back while hugging. Kellyn then greets the oldest two children and makes the introductions again, but there are now too many children for me to keep them all straight.
Temra, Petrik, and I are crammed onto one end of the table together. Children are spread out on either side of us while Kellyn sits closer to his parents at the head of the table.
“So, how did you all meet?” Mrs. Derinor—Kahlia—wants to know.
Since we can barely hear the question over the noisy table, Kellyn answers. “I was in Lirasu in between jobs, hoping to commission a weapon from the magical blacksmith there. She was, unfortunately, far too busy to take on a new commission just then. I hope to catch her when she’s free another time.” Kellyn makes a pointed look my way. “Then I met these three. They paid me to take them to Thersa on business, but we became such good friends that we’re still traveling together. They have a job in the capital, so I thought we’d stop by on our way and visit for a bit.”
The lie is so smooth, but I think that’s mostly because it’s filled with truths or near truths, anyway.
“And what business are you in?” Mr. Derinor asks.
“Ziva is a smithy,” Temra says. “I’m her assistant. We’re traveling to the capital in search of work.” Technically not a lie.