Spin Offs, Flint Part B

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Ash and Willow planned on staying at the odd homestead. He was not sure it was far enough from the troubles up in Cof to really be considered safe. Still, he trusted the smith’s daughter, she seemed to be of good character. At least two of the others also gave him the impression that they could handle a bit of trouble. Leaving the siblings at the rickety tower seemed to be a better option than taking them further north.

Before heading out he unpacked the Elquinian artifacts he had taken from the litch’s lair. He took out two of the bows and two long knives to give to the siblings, “These are weapons crafted by the half-elves of the Second Kingdom of Elquin. They should serve you better than the bows you have, and likely be something that you can pass on to your children when the time comes.”

Willow took up one of the knives, “They’re beautiful. Are they magical?”

“Crafted with magic but without active enchantments. Or so I was told.”

Ash was teary eyed as she inspected one of the bows, she wiped her face and asked, “Why are you so nice to us?”

“Well, given the other options this seems like the better way.”

“I wish more people were like you, Flint. Thank you for bringing us here.” She gave him a hug.

Her returned the hug, assuring her, “There are other folks like me, though maybe not enough.”

Willow was putting the knife on her belt and glanced at him shyly, “I’m not going to hug you, but thank you for the awesome knife.”

He laughed and ruffled her hair, “You’re welcome.”

Flint departed the rickety tower after saying goodbye to the smith’s daughter, she had been around the far side of the hill making beams from felled trees with the intent of building a smithy for herself. She wished him safe travels and asked that if he should find himself in Cof to mention to her father that she was doing well. He assured her that he would do so, making his way to the road.

He had learned that the forester’s camp had not been claimed by the Forest King, not so far at any rate. He rode Tingy, leading BigNose. They travelled through the day, keeping a steady pace. He did not encounter anyone else along the road and shortly before sunset he led the horses up to Othi’s homestead. He felt a sense of relief, finally having returned, it had been too long as far as he was concerned.

Alnavien was splitting wood, she glanced in his direction but kept to her task. Flint started removing the gear from the two horses. He wondered where the dogs were. When he had unloaded everything from the horses he removed his leather armour and looked around. Not a lot had changed, though it seemed the property had received some maintenance. Since no one else had appeared he went to Alnavien, bracing himself for her caustic nature.

“How are the tadpoles?”

The axe came down, nearly missing the pieces of wood that had been set on the chopping stump. A thin sliver of wood fell to one side and the larger piece was knocked off the block in his direction. Alnavien readied the axe and scowled at him, “What did you say?”

Flint picked up the chunk of wood, “I was asking how the baby was?” He set the wood on the chopping block and stepped back.

The axe came down, splitting the piece of wood in two, they fell to either side, “She’s fine. You took your time getting back.”

“Longer than I had hoped, but it is still the earlier part of the autumn, so, not so long that you should have been concerned.”

She set another piece of wood onto the block and readied the axe, “I wasn’t concerned.” It came up, descended and split the piece of wood in half.

“Need a hand?”

“Can’t imagine that I do. You certainly could use a bath again, perhaps you should clean up and leave me to my task. I believe you know where the spring-house is.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He paused a moment to see if she had any more witty things to say. She resumed her work without comment.

Flint went to the shed with the bath, stripped and sat in the small pool of water. He used the soft soap that was in a clay bowl and washed himself, then his clothing. Feeling refreshed he stepped out into the property’s yard, hanging his clothing along the small fence between the bath and the chicken coop. The bark of the dogs drew his attention, they came bounding over to him, tails wagging. Flint smiled as he pet the dogs and roughhoused with them for a while.

The sun had nearly set, uphill he saw Othi step out from the trees and enter her casting circle, she waved to him. He walked up to greet her. She smiled as she watched him approach and pulled her dress off, casting it aside, “Let us sing the sunset together.”

“Sure.” She took his hand and together they faced west, the sun was mostly behind the trees and hills. The sky above slowly darkened as they sang, it had been a while since Flint had honoured the day’s end. He had been raised in the oldways and had done this ritual daily for over half his life. The two of them did not exactly harmonize but he did think it was a good way to start his visit.

When they finished singing she gave him a gentle push, “Lay down.”

“Oh?”

“Please. I would like to share some intimacies with you.”

“Is there some urgency?”

“Just my own desires.”

“Fair enough. Pleasure before business then.”

“In case you run off again, chasing priestesses.” She sat astride, mounting him without further preamble. She leaned into his chest and moved slowly, eyes closed, with the occasional soft moan or sigh. Flint was somewhat taken aback and wondered about her apparent knowledge of Asta. He had always been a practical man so he embraced the moment, if not the woman, and let her have her way.

When the deed was done she rolled off of him and lay opposite, head down slope, holding her knees against her chest. He wondered about the strangeness of this encounter and had nearly dozed off before she stirred and suggested, “Let’s take a bath and then eat.”

They made their way to the spring-house to clean up. Flint fetched some clothes from his gear, Othi had dressed in a skirt and loose shirt then the two of them went to the sodi. They joined Alnavien, the baby and a girl soon to come to adulthood at the kitchen table. Othi’s friend gave them a knowing look, she said nothing. They ate in silence by the flickering candle light. When the meal was done the youth took the baby and went to the back room.

Alnavien asked, “So what’s the plan?”

Flint asked, “Plan?”

Othi said, “We’ll go to the hall shortly after dawn. I imagine it’ll take Flint a day or two to sort out his priorities. Once we know what we’re going to be doing, we’ll come help with the harvest for a few days.”

Alnavien looked from one to the other, shrugged and said, “Fine. I’ll be sleeping with Thern and the baby. Maybe you two should take the spare room.”

When she left Flint asked Othi, “You reached the Rover Hall by the sound of it. What did you find?”

“Everything you will need and more. Let’s get some rest, we can talk about this in the morning.”

Flint had many questions, he wanted to know what had happened and how she had managed to gain access to the warded grounds of the hall. Still, it was after dark and he was tired, he nodded, “In the morning, then.”

Despite having been road weary, Flint slept poorly. His dreams were very vivid, as often as not Othi was there, the two of them engaged in intense conversations or strange intimacies, sometimes he dreamed that he strangled her to death. Throughout the night he would startle awake and look over to Othi, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He stayed abed and drifted back to sleep many times. Sometimes he dreamed of Alnavien, they engaged in vigorous sex or he fought her and she would attack him with the wood axe. At least once he dreamed of Asta, she begged him to come to Swampdon, to help fight the Tannicans. Eventually he gave up on sleep and laid awake, waiting for the rest of the household to wake up.

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