chance for negotiations because Macala was on a fucking rampage of note. One thing the Raven's have kept mum about is the not so minor detail that they're in possession of thundereggs! It was apocalyptic out there, chief. We're damn lucky we made it out alive.”
“ Why would someone attack the Ravens and want to pin it on us?” I mutter, thinking out loud.
Only one suspect comes to mind. A suspect who's been quiet for so long we underestimated him.
Changing the subject for Adam to give him something else to worry about, I stand, “After lunch you're starting on Deliah's training. The mist said this would happen and I honestly didn't want to believe it. Macala won't come after us on his own. Deliah needs to get up to speed, quick!”
He looks like I just popped both his kneecaps.
His thoughts are louder than the prayers of those who forgot to use a condom last night, and I can't help but smile, “Relax. Gunn is not going to smash your head in. That's a privilege reserved for me.”
That gets him to smile.
Good lad.
“ Now off with you! We'll go grab breakfast and then I expect you to prepare for tutoring while I show our new eagle the lay of the land.”
Hauling himself out his chair, his youthful gangly stride which is all elbows and kneecaps wonks along next to me as we head to the mess hall, “Chief?”
“Yes Adam?”
“ How come you're giving Gunn this opportunity?” he asks, hope still displayed on his face as if I'll relent and give him a shot at her.
“ Because a chief has to take care of his clan before his own needs. It doesn't matter what I feel or think, what matters is what is best for her, and him.” Slapping him on the shoulder, I give him the 'forget about it' smile, “Your turn will come, son. Don't you fret.”
“ But Gunn doesn't want her,” he argues, still trying to debate suitability.
“ He will. Ultimately it's her choice Adam, not ours.”
“ So I can–”
“ No. You can't.” My tone is final.
This discussion is over.
So Wolf is up to his old tricks, and Raven will be coming for retribution. Shit just got real.
Chapter 10
Now is the flight of eagles
Over the field; the sailors
Of the sea-horses hie them
To the Hanged-God's gifts and feasting.
~ Skáldskaparmal
Deliah:
Ewan's already seated at the long table when I waltz in with Alweada.
Looking up from his plate piled high with onions, mushrooms, scrambled eggs, and bacon, he raises his mug, “Took the scenic route did you?”
He offers his eat shit wink as he toasts me, giving me a full frontal view of bunched muscles straining against shirtsleeves when he tilts his neck to down his coffee. He's all sinew and bulge. He could snap enemies with his neck tendons alone. How come he seems so harmless when he's clearly anything but?
He points to the waiting plate opposite his, “Breakfast is getting cold. Get a move on prima-donna.”
Alweada squeezes my shoulder, “See you later, I have to go see a man about some food.”
Adam grins like a buffoon as I sit down opposite Ewan, looking up at the high ceiling clad with wooden carvings of battles. Drawn to the depictions of bloodshed I get a little lightheaded with my neck cramped. The walls are the customary satanic black, but the world on the ceiling is mottled with age into various shades of tortoiseshell.
“ Deliah,” says Ewan, pulling my attention back to him. “I'll take you for the guided tour after you've eaten, then Adam here will introduce you to the art of attack.”
I look between Adam and Ewan. They are polar opposites as Ewan has hair darker than midnight while Adam's is pale as a dandelion seed, yet their eyes are paradoxical. Adam's being ink black and Ewan's such a light hazel they seem golden.
And the boys are both smiling at me like they're sitting on a secret.
Pursing my lips I look at my plate, my stomach already gurgling at the tempting aroma of sustenance. Copying Ewan I savor a big sip of coffee,
“ Why would someone attack the Ravens and want to pin it on us?” I mutter, thinking out loud.
Only one suspect comes to mind. A suspect who's been quiet for so long we underestimated him.
Changing the subject for Adam to give him something else to worry about, I stand, “After lunch you're starting on Deliah's training. The mist said this would happen and I honestly didn't want to believe it. Macala won't come after us on his own. Deliah needs to get up to speed, quick!”
He looks like I just popped both his kneecaps.
His thoughts are louder than the prayers of those who forgot to use a condom last night, and I can't help but smile, “Relax. Gunn is not going to smash your head in. That's a privilege reserved for me.”
That gets him to smile.
Good lad.
“ Now off with you! We'll go grab breakfast and then I expect you to prepare for tutoring while I show our new eagle the lay of the land.”
Hauling himself out his chair, his youthful gangly stride which is all elbows and kneecaps wonks along next to me as we head to the mess hall, “Chief?”
“Yes Adam?”
“ How come you're giving Gunn this opportunity?” he asks, hope still displayed on his face as if I'll relent and give him a shot at her.
“ Because a chief has to take care of his clan before his own needs. It doesn't matter what I feel or think, what matters is what is best for her, and him.” Slapping him on the shoulder, I give him the 'forget about it' smile, “Your turn will come, son. Don't you fret.”
“ But Gunn doesn't want her,” he argues, still trying to debate suitability.
“ He will. Ultimately it's her choice Adam, not ours.”
“ So I can–”
“ No. You can't.” My tone is final.
This discussion is over.
So Wolf is up to his old tricks, and Raven will be coming for retribution. Shit just got real.
Chapter 10
Now is the flight of eagles
Over the field; the sailors
Of the sea-horses hie them
To the Hanged-God's gifts and feasting.
~ Skáldskaparmal
Deliah:
Ewan's already seated at the long table when I waltz in with Alweada.
Looking up from his plate piled high with onions, mushrooms, scrambled eggs, and bacon, he raises his mug, “Took the scenic route did you?”
He offers his eat shit wink as he toasts me, giving me a full frontal view of bunched muscles straining against shirtsleeves when he tilts his neck to down his coffee. He's all sinew and bulge. He could snap enemies with his neck tendons alone. How come he seems so harmless when he's clearly anything but?
He points to the waiting plate opposite his, “Breakfast is getting cold. Get a move on prima-donna.”
Alweada squeezes my shoulder, “See you later, I have to go see a man about some food.”
Adam grins like a buffoon as I sit down opposite Ewan, looking up at the high ceiling clad with wooden carvings of battles. Drawn to the depictions of bloodshed I get a little lightheaded with my neck cramped. The walls are the customary satanic black, but the world on the ceiling is mottled with age into various shades of tortoiseshell.
“ Deliah,” says Ewan, pulling my attention back to him. “I'll take you for the guided tour after you've eaten, then Adam here will introduce you to the art of attack.”
I look between Adam and Ewan. They are polar opposites as Ewan has hair darker than midnight while Adam's is pale as a dandelion seed, yet their eyes are paradoxical. Adam's being ink black and Ewan's such a light hazel they seem golden.
And the boys are both smiling at me like they're sitting on a secret.
Pursing my lips I look at my plate, my stomach already gurgling at the tempting aroma of sustenance. Copying Ewan I savor a big sip of coffee,
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