“Please. I’m a military man. The specially designed weapons emerging from your forge. The archery and target fields. The training arena. You have facilities capable of producing an army.”
“An army? Of blind men? Of those missing a limb, sometimes two? Of those that are unable to cease trembling when they hear a loud noise? Oh, I know, an army of women, they do make up a significant number of our inhabitants. Are you shivering in those expensive boots of yours Captain at the thought of facing my minions?”
“If not an army, they why the training?”
“For a military man you’re surprisingly sheltered. We train them for life… nothing more. When others take one look at you and deem you less because you are missing a limb, or an eye, maybe you’re deaf, or merely a woman… then they see you as prey. Everyone who lives at the Lair; man, woman or child, is expected to learn to defend themselves. We’re surrounded by woods full of deadly creatures. And beyond those woods the world is full of predators who roam on two legs and wear clothes. I can’t be everywhere at once, but I can damn well give each and every one of my people the chance to survive until aid arrives to help drive their enemy away.”
Talac’s gaze was fixed upon the crowd, perhaps noting the number missing a limb, or wearing an eye patch. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. “I would see this training.”
“Please.” She noted his nonplussed look… men, they could be so rude and entitled. “It’s common courtesy to say please when requesting something. Unfortunately, I must decline your request. Once you return to the Keep, we do not admit casual visitors into the Lair.” Her stomach took an unexpected dip as Talac suddenly smiled, his grin broad, engaging even… her female kin were seriously blind, because heavens, this man was handsome in a rugged harsh manner that Alia found all too appealing.
“Then it’s a good thing I won’t be returning to the Keep, isn’t it? I would be remiss in my duties if I strayed too far from Brandth’s bedside in his time of need. I can sleep in the stables if there’s no spare bed, it wouldn’t be the first time. Which means there will be plenty of opportunities for you to give me that tour I requested…” The twinkle in his eyes glittered more brightly for a moment. Talac was clearly up to no good. “… please.”
Damnation, the way the man said please, in a growly husky tone, as if he’d never said the word before, suddenly making Alia uncomfortably aware she was a woman. Places low in her body sparking with decided interest. Her imagination flaring, wondering what it would be like to hear a man such as this ask for more from her than just a guided tour.
By the nine circles of hell, she was being beyond fanciful and idiotic. A man of the sword like Talac would have no personal interest in a tall sturdy woman such as herself. One more comfortable in breeches and boots than fine silk dresses. Capable of neither cooing, nor flattering his manly ego with insipid chit chat about the weather and long dead poets.
The attention he was paying to her? Talac was nothing but curious about the legend of the Beast… that twinkle in his eyes, that wasn’t personal. If anything, the man was probably secretly laughing at her, thinking her playacting.
Shoulders snapping back, spine stiffening, Alia lifted her nose in the air, still a little disconcerted that she had to look up to meet Talac’s gaze. “I fear you’ll be nothing but bored trailing after me, Captain Talac. Wasting your precious time when you could be doing an array of other, more important things.”
“Just Talac.. please. And I doubt very much that you could bore me, fair Beast. I find myself very much looking forward to learning all about you, so that I may separate the truth from the fiction. Be prepared to have all your secrets revealed.” Anticipation building in Talac’s gut, the game, the hunt, had begun.
Those deep blue eyes of Alia’s seemed to all but freeze over. Her expression likewise suddenly nothing but cold and pointed. “Some secrets are meant to stay buried. I would advise you caution where you tread.”
“Beware of monsters?” Talac inquired, thinking about the narrow windows, the guards on the battlements and the spiked posts.
“No… beware of the Beast.” Alia followed her words up with a sharp snap of her teeth, leaping up and diving into the crowd of dancers, instantly disappearing into the merry chaos of the dancing throng.
Leaving Talac behind to consider the riveting woman who claimed to be a Beast and hinted at fangs and claws. His interest he told himself was only because of the novelty factor… and all those secrets that appeared to swirl around the Lair and the woman who ruled it. Once he was satisfied he had uncovered everything of note, no doubt this avid anticipation that clenched his gut would be quelled.
And all these thoughts about Alia, how quick witted she was, confident, and admirably lightning fast with a blade to the jugular… they would no doubt fade, wouldn’t they?
Chapter Eight
The bed had been soft, and the sheets softer still. The guest room Talac had been assigned whilst not lavish was in no way lacking. It was light despite the narrow windows, as there was an abundance of them. And it was warm, but not so warm that Talac couldn’t sleep. Waking not long after the sun left the horizon as the sounds of the Lair around him impinged. People laughing, chatting, going about their business sounding… happy on the whole.
It was a far cry from the shadowy - chill you to your bones - atmosphere that clung pervasively to the Keep.
Even the great hall here at the Lair was a direct contrast Talac discovered, as he entered the sun filled room in search of breakfast. Joining a wide variety of others doing the same. He recognised several hunters, plus a stable hand, though there were people dressed for work at the blacksmiths and the distillery as well.
Two tables were set up at one end of the hall, laden with food. Talac observing several others approaching the tables, picking up a plate and serving themselves, before finding a seemingly random place at one of the long oak dining tables that took up space in the centre of the room, where others already sat eating.
Conversations were hurried but seemed friendly enough. No one was malingering. When their meal was finished the individual would carry their dirty plates to a table located near the doors leading to the kitchen. Where, Talac observed, several flushed faced individuals scooped up used plates, utensils and glasses and spirited them away to be cleaned.
Joining the queue for food. When it was Talac’s turn he chose two cheese and vegetable filled pastries, a piece of fruit and a goblet of water. There seemed to be no rules as to where to sit so he chose an empty space next to two women and a man that smelt faintly of the tannery. They nodded in welcome but remained focused upon their own meals.
Given the numbers present and the hum of congenial activity, he shouldn’t have been able to sense the moment Alia entered the hall, yet he did. Talac’s gaze clashing with hers as Alia halted just inside the hall, her attention likewise immediately settling upon him. Her golden mane of hair plaited back from her face, the thick rope dangling down her back. Already wisps of hair had escaped. Whilst her dark green high necked tunic had a slightly rumpled look about it, signifying she’d already been hard at work this morning before deciding to break her fast.
Alia’s height made her stand out, but she seemed unperturbed that she towered over everyone present, including the majority of men, as she strode over to join the queue for food, just like everyone else. Casually greeting several people along the way, before speaking briefly with three others that raced over to discuss some matter of business.
Talac deliberately slowed his eating pace, taking smaller, slower bites of food so his plate was still half full by the time Alia had filled hers and was looking for a place to sit. He boldly waved her over to a seat now vacant across the table from his own. He’d made such a production of the invite, Alia had little choice but to take Talac up on the invitation.
“You seem… hungry. And you look tired.” He couldn’t refrain from commenting as Alia made fast work of a wedge of potato pie, faint dark circles evident beneath her eyes.
“A difficult foaling, but we got there in the end.”
“They are magnificent bea… animals. Do you sell or trade them?”
