Radimar’s smile was more of a smirk. “No, my lady. I think I may have permanently satisfied Sir Alreed’s curiosity about the blade skills of the Brotherhood.”
Jahna was glad to hear it. There had been no rematch the previous year, and she’d been just as relieved then too. Something about the bout between Radimar and Alreed went beyond just a display of fighting skills. Her heart had been in her throat at one point when the champion had knocked Radimar to his back and tried to smash in his face. Radimar’s quick reflexes had saved him from a brutal mauling, and he had delivered his own retribution in cold, calculated maneuvers that left Alreed bloody and nearly unconscious at the end of the bout.
She would never forget Radimar’s expression, or lack of it, when the king proclaimed the winner. Not even a flicker of triumph crossed his features. No joy or relief, just a flat acceptance of the outcome. Still, when he retreated from the arena and stopped to bow before her and her father, she had sensed something dark and boiling beneath the surface, as if he were a cauldron set over a roaring fire whose contents threatened not just to bubble over, but to erupt in a violent geyser.
Radimar bid them both goodbye so he might return to give Sodrin last minute guidance before his bouts and promised to see them after the Exhibition closed. Jahna’s gaze followed him, admiring the way his long stride ate the distance to the billet and how his cloak draped his wide shoulders. She dropped her eyes, afraid someone might see the yearning in them.
Her fate was to love him from afar. He didn’t return her feelings and never gave any hint of doing so, though he occasionally complimented her on her appearance and often sought her out for conversation.
Once he even opened up to her about his childhood and how he came to reside and train at such a young age with the Brotherhood. “The Tribe Wars,” he told her one cool spring evening at Hollowfell.
They sat on the slope of a gentle hill, enjoying the view below. Radimar had built a small fire after he, Sodrin and Jahna had returned from a run through the forest. Sodrin had slipped in a mud wallow at one point and agreed to join them around the fire once he changed and cleaned up.
Radimar stirred the embers to greater life with a stick. “My village was razed during the conflict. The Brotherhood mostly teaches now, but then they also hired out as mercenaries and armed escorts for people traveling through the conflicted lands. A party of the Brotherhood came upon my village right after the battle was over. I was three at the time. I don’t remember it, but they tell me one of the Brotherhood, a master named Odanat, found me under my mother’s body. I was the only one to survive the raid.” He gave her a brief smile when she laid her hand across his in sympathy. “For whatever reason, the Brotherhood chose to foster me and train me in the ways of Ilinfan.” He patted her hand. “Something else you can write about in your histories.”
She had refused. “No. There are some things that belong only to the people who experienced them. This isn’t a story of Ilinfan but of Radimar Velus. It’s yours to share with whom you choose.”
The compliment he gave her was one she still held close and sometimes spooled out of her memory to cheer her. “You’re wise for one so young, Jahna,” he said. “And possess a great heart. Those you love are fortunate.”
The words echoed inside her mind now. He would never know he was one of those he considered fortunate. I love you, she thought as he disappeared into the billet. I have for a long time.
Once the Exhibition started, she put aside her melancholy thoughts, caught up in the excitement of the bouts and cheering on her brother. Uhlfrida’s shouted encouragement beside her nearly deafened her, and when Sodrin won emerged the victor of all his bouts, father and daughter embraced amid cheers from the crowd and congratulatory slaps on the back from those sitting nearby.
Sodrin was giddy and nearly incoherent when he rejoined his father and sister, Radimar beside him wearing an equally happy grin. Uhlfrida pulled his son into a hard hug before thrusting him away, hands still on his arms. “We celebrate tonight! Come! There are friends who want to congratulate you.” He clapped Radimar on the back as well. “You too, Radimar. You and Jahna are part of this celebration as well.”
Jahna had her excuses ready for why she wouldn’t attend what promised to be a raucous gathering complete with shouting, arm punches and the heady flow of wine from numerous barrels. The room they celebrated in was guaranteed to be hot, pungent and crowded. She could think of few things that appealed to her less.
“Father, you, Sodrin and Sir Radimar go without me. I’m much more interested in the dances than I am in listening to the recountings of battles and brawls and who stole whose cattle or woman during the Tribe Wars.” She pulled Sodrin down for a quick kiss on both his cheeks. “You,” she said. “I’m so very proud of you.”
Uhlfrida didn’t protest and pulled Sodrin along with him. He called to Radimar over his shoulder. “You coming, swordmaster?”
“I’ll meet you there, my lord.” Radimar waved them on, and the two men disappeared into the throng of people dispersing toward the pubs and impromptu gatherings that clustered around street musicians and storytellers. “Sometimes it’s best not to mention a time of arrival,” he admitted to Jahna with a grin.
“Don’t you want to join them?” Excited flutters danced in Jahna’s belly. Did he prefer to keep her company instead?
He tucked her arm in his and set a leisurely stroll in the opposite direction. “For the past three years, your brother has spent nearly all of his time with me. I think it a good thing if I make myself scarce this one night so that father and son might celebrate this victory together without me.”
“Very perceptive of you, sir.” Jahna was even more glad now that she declined to accompany them. Her stomach transformed itself into a trapped butterfly, wings beating frantically against her abdomen when Radimar raised her hand to his lips and dropped a light kiss on her knuckles.
“Besides,” he said. “I’m a little tired of looking at Sodrin’s face, handsome as it is. I’d rather spend time with his lovely sister and maybe convince her that a dance or two with me in the forgotten garden is a good idea, especially since she still refuses to dance with others.”
Had she wings, she would have flown at that moment from pure joy. Instead, she adopted what she hoped was a friendly but poised expression. “Promise not to step on my feet?” As agile as he was, the chance of that happening was almost non-existent, but she couldn’t resist teasing him.
He gave a mock sigh of frustration. “You ask much of me, Lady Uhlfrida.”