The Warrior

Chapter 43: Chapter 43


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Indenuel took a tour of the home, marveling at its legacy. He couldn’t imagine being so wealthy to have a home you not only grew up in but have it big enough to fit every living generation comfortably. Martin’s married daughters were off living in their own homes, but even still, Martin, his children, his children’s children, and now his great-grandchild were all comfortably living in the home. It was a wealth he couldn’t even comprehend. Not just the large house but knowing who your family were and growing up with them.

“So, are you the only member of the High Elders with royalty in you?” Indenuel asked as they passed another portrait of Martin’s grandfather. It was important for Indenuel to keep his legs moving however slowly. He was so full he had almost forgotten how to walk. Tolomon was beside him.

“I didn’t have that much royal blood to begin with. It doesn’t count,” Martin said.

“Cristoval and Navir have more of a spiritual royalty in their line. Many members of their family end up working somewhere in the church, and there are quite a few High Elder’s in their family line,” Sara said.

Indenuel nodded, thinking of Dalius who would soon replace Cristoval. Maybe soon. Or he might last another year or two. Honestly, the old man was a wonder.

He looked again at the portraits of the lords and ladies of the past. It was so weird to be able to name your ancestors from centuries ago, but to also see what they looked like. It was simply baffling.

They passed a portrait of a younger Martin and his two parents. Martin looked to be a little older than twenty.

“Quite the handsome young man, wasn’t he,” Sara said.

Indenuel smiled as Martin shook his head, giving a tiny laugh.

“You have no brothers or sisters?” Indenuel asked.

“No, no. It was very lonely in this house growing up.” Martin smiled. “I was the perfect child for my parents and turned far more rebellious in my older years. I requested my titles taken away, and I had five children.”

Indenuel raised an eyebrow, confused. “I’d think any grandparent would want a lot of grandchildren.”

“It was more a matter of incredulousness at Sara being with child again, and then instantly falling in love with the baby once they were born,” Martin said, placing his arm around his wife.  

Indenuel stifled a yawn, trying not to look obvious, but Ana saw it. “Ah, you are tired?”

“No, no. I would never want to think Martin’s family is a bore,” Indenuel said.

“Come now, Indenuel. It is late, and you have an equally large day tomorrow,” Sara said.

“Yes, it’s important to get some sleep,” Ana said.

Indenuel tried to argue, but once he opened his mouth he gave a huge yawn, and that was it. Ana and Rosa said their goodnights as Martin, Sara, and Adosina walked them to the door. Adosina purposefully ignored Sara’s not so quiet promptings to walk them to their carriage, though she did smile and hold his elbows, wishing him a good night. Which started another conversation that lasted a brief moment before the topic of Adosina walking them out to the carriage was again touched on by Sara. Adosina again ignored her, smiling as she slowly shut the door.

Indenuel chucked as they walked down the path toward their carriage.  

“Excellent food,” Tolomon said.

“Adosina was right. I don’t have to eat for a week,” Indenuel said.

Tolomon glanced behind his shoulders. “We’re still too close to the house. Sara might hear and invite you over tomorrow.”

Indenuel laughed again. Their carriage was waiting for them at the end of the walkway. They made it past the bushes when Tolomon grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, taking out one of his swords and pointing it toward a shadow. “Identify yourself.”

A scream emanated from the shadow before Indenuel recognized Inessa. Tolomon seemed to recognize her at the same time. She backed into the bushes to stay away from the sword, causing her basket to fall off her arm and apples spilled everywhere.

“Nice, Tolomon,” Indenuel muttered.

He sheathed his sword. “You can never be too careful.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t see you,” Inessa said, dropping to her knees to gather the apples.

“There needs to be mutual forgiving. I did not mean to startle you,” Tolomon said, helping her with the apples.

Indenuel got on his knees to help as Inessa gave Tolomon’s sheathed sword another look. “Tolomon terrifies me all the time,” Indenuel said. Her face relaxed as she placed the basket down. Indenuel wasn’t exactly sure how many apples he needed to look for. “What do you intend to do with all these?”

“There’s this delightful apple pastry the staff make. I have become quite fond of it since my stay here,” Inessa said.

“You don’t just let the servants pick them?” Indenuel asked, grabbing an apple from under the bush.

She gathered a few apples before placing them into the basket. “Well, I could, but I enjoy my walk through Martin’s orchard at night. It’s very peaceful.”

“I can understand that.”

Tolomon gently placed the apples he gathered into the basket. Indenuel’s hand landed on something flat. Something definitely not an apple. He picked it up, a small bag with a draw string. He tried to hold it up to the moonlight to see what it was, but Inessa snatched it from his hands.

“I- I think that’s all of them, thank you,” Inessa said as she dropped the bag inside the bodice of her dress. Indenuel instantly looked away, too mortified to even ask.

He stood up, brushing himself off. Inessa stood as well, adjusting the basket.

“Well, it’s nice of Martin to let you do this,” Indenuel said. Tolomon, seeing that they were having a conversation, quietly backed away to give them privacy, though he shot Indenuel a warning look all the same.

“Yes, um…” In the moonlight, Indenuel saw her face twist. “He doesn’t know exactly how late I stay out. But… but I assume he doesn’t mind.”

Indenuel couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t ask him permission for everything, then?”

“I would hate to trouble him all the time. He is an incredibly busy man.” She arranged the apples in her basket, giving Tolomon another frightened look. “Thank you, good sirs, for your help tonight.” She gave a low curtsey.

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She wasn’t wearing one of her concubine dresses, the ones covering all the way up to her neck. When she curtseyed, Indenuel caught a glimpse of her cleavage. He immediately averted his eyes.

Martin’s concubine. This is Martin’s concubine. You should not look there.  

“You don’t need to… you shouldn’t curtsey to someone like me,” Indenuel said, trying not to reveal how embarrassed he was, and willing to say almost anything to get her to stand up again.

She rose, blissfully unaware of what happened. “Am I right to assume you are having a hard time getting used to this sudden status you’ve found yourself with?”

Indenuel stared at her face, trying not to, but getting lost in her emerald eyes all the same. “I just never thought it would happen to me.”

She nodded, a sympathetic smile on her face. Oh, she was gorgeous. His memories taunted him with the image of her cleavage, which he forcibly put aside and smiled back at her.

“God is quite gracious to give you to us in our time of need. I don’t think you should blame the people for wanting to thank you personally,” Inessa said.

“God may know what He’s doing, but you’d think He’d let me into a meeting or something to tell me what I should do every once in a while,” Indenuel said.

Inessa giggled, and he was undone. He needed to leave. He couldn’t get to know her. Admiring her beauty was one thing, but if he got to know her, if he thought, for one moment, they might actually get along, he would fall madly in love. He had to stop making her laugh, even though everything inside him wanted to make her do it again.

Tolomon cleared his throat, and Indenuel glanced at him. He gave his own smile, if forced. Indenuel had forgotten he was there. He realized even as a Graduate, Tolomon technically wasn’t allowed to join this conversation unless asked to. “Well, Inessa, I enjoyed this talk, but I should return home.”

“I hope we shall have another,” Inessa said as she started to make another curtsey. Without thinking he reached out and grabbed her elbow to stop her. Tolomon rubbed the bridge of his nose. She gave Indenuel a curious look, and he returned it with a chagrined smile. “You really don’t like people bowing to you?”

“I…” Indenuel struggled to think of something witty or clever. He had no intention of telling her the truth, that her body was gorgeous, and when she curtseyed his mind went other places. Though, maybe if he said that, he’d receive his slap in the face and she would stay away from him. That would benefit them both. But he didn’t want to say that. “I’d rather be friends, if it is allowed.” Indenuel glanced in the direction of Martin’s house, a physical reminder that the woman who’s elbow he held was Martin’s concubine. “And I don’t think we can be friends if you feel like you must curtsey before me.” He let go of her elbow and took a large step back.

Inessa smiled, and he again forgot Tolomon was standing next to him. She reached into her basket and picked up an apple, handing it to him. “To friendship, then.”

Indenuel gave her an awkward toast with his apple as she slipped away, heading toward the servants’ quarters. Indenuel watched, his smile disappearing, as she went inside.

“I heard they get the castration tools nice and hot before they use it on adulterers,” Tolomon said, a hint of humor in his voice. Indenuel finally tore his gaze away from the servants’ quarters to see Tolomon standing next to him.

“For the first offense, they take the testicles out. Second time it is cutting off the penis entirely,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel cleared his throat. “I would never… that’s Martin’s concubine. My hope of friendship is true. She seemed sad at dinner.”

Tolomon shrugged as he turned, climbing into the carriage. Indenuel was ready to follow when he glanced over his shoulder one more time to look at the servants’ quarters, lingering at the doorway as his fingers touched the smooth skin of the apple before he climbed in and sat across from Tolomon.

Tolomon sighed, his head touching against the back of the carriage. “I didn’t expect to have this conversation with you.” Indenuel watched him, frowning. “I know perfectly well you are in a social class higher than me. If it comes down to it, and I see you with Inessa, I have every right to tell Martin. But if you deny it, the King’s court will more likely believe you because of your status and I’ll get at most, ten lashings for speaking ill of your character.” Indenuel wasn’t sure where Tolomon was going with this. “I can handle ten lashes, but I refuse to divulge the secret affairs of my assignments.” Tolomon leaned toward Indenuel, and once again, he was reminded how Tolomon could rip him in half if he wanted to. He looked so much more terrifying in the moonlight. “What I do instead is bother you about it, constantly. We are together, all the time, and you will not be able to get rid of me. I will wear you down until you consider confession to Martin as a blessing.”

“Dammit, Tolomon, you act like I have no self-control. I know Inessa is Martin’s concubine. You don’t need to threaten me to keep me in line.”

“Good. Because my final point would be that it wouldn’t just be you that gets hurt. Inessa would to. All the titles she enjoys for her and her family would be revoked, and they would return to their destitute state. But she would still get the treatment of an adulteress. Women get three chances. For the first offense, they get one breast chopped off, then the other for the second offense. It isn’t until the third time where they mess with her-”

“Good God, Tolomon! I get it! Thank you!” Indenuel said loud enough for the driver to hear. Tolomon nodded, satisfied, before he leaned back against his seat. Indenuel looked down at the apple, then studied Tolomon’s all too relaxed face. “You seem to know a lot about the adultery punishments. Is that something you learned during your Graduate program? Or is it something else.”

Tolomon moved his head forward, his eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, you and Rosa seemed quite-”

“Rosa and I are friends, nothing more,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel gave him a careful look. “You were making her laugh. You walked with her all night.”

Tolomon’s face was no longer relaxed. Instead, it was impossible to read. “Don’t, Indenuel.”

“Does Nathaniel even know you harbor feelings for her?” Indenuel asked.

“Used to. I used to harbor feelings for her. We’re just friends now. And yes, obviously Nathaniel knew. More importantly, he knows my feelings have changed,” Tolomon said. 

“Like Inessa and I can just be friends too,” Indenuel said.

There was the smallest twitch of Tolomon’s eye, but it still made Indenuel aware of his own mortality. “The way you look at Adosina is different than the way you look at Inessa. Anyone can see that. I’m quite sure everyone at that dinner table saw that.”

Indenuel tried not to react. If that were true, Martin might start to suspect something. He pushed the conversation back toward Tolomon. “A good distraction from people noticing you and Rosa?”

Tolomon closed his eyes and pursed his lips. He moved his head ever so slightly, and a bone in his neck popped. “There is nothing more between me and Rosa.”

Indenuel was flirting with death digging into Tolomon like this, but he doubted he was the only one in this carriage coveting another man’s woman. “Are you certain?”

Tolomon opened his eyes, giving a tight smile. “I would never do anything to compromise my title as Graduate, and I would never attempt to do anything with my best friend’s wife to place her in danger. I assure you; Rosa and I are just friends.”

Indenuel said nothing, leaning back against the carriage. Tolomon clearly still had feelings for her, or else he wouldn’t have to assure Indenuel he wouldn’t do anything. The only thing he was certain of was Tolomon not wanting to hurt Rosa or get his titles taken away. The far too descriptive punishments for adulterers came back. The Tolomon he knew would never put Rosa in that kind of danger.

There were lanterns placed on the road to give off light, and Indenuel saw the mostly empty streets. It was a late night, but there was something he noticed. The streets were cleaned and well taken care of. There was no homeless, no destitute, all were in houses. The streets had flowers or bushes perfectly manicured. He thought he was still on Martin’s property, but no, they were almost to his home. The people took pride in this city, and crippling poverty did not exist in it. The concubine law, it seemed, was working.

As though to haunt him, memories came back of Inessa in the moonlight. Of her giggles. Of her body. He took a bite of the apple, his teeth breaking into the smooth skin.

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