Movement I: A
Song of Reunification
“Haleth?” She spun around at her father’s voice, her
bared sword still in
hand.
“Father,” she said as coolly as he could have if he had
been faced with a transgression. “It is a
surprise to see you here. After all,
you’ve been spending most of your time with Haldar.”
He hid a wince, and was shamed; it was true that he
had been almost
ignoring her with a single-minded intensity, trying to ignore her
unmannered
behavior and hoping it would go away on its own. That was, of course, a
silly
hope, but he had not wanted to reprimand his daughter whom he treasured
above
all else.
“Malron tells me that he teaches you the sword,” he
said without any
inflection.
“Aye,” she replied in the same tone of voice. “If
you’ve come to forbid
me to do so or give me a lecture, please come to the point or leave.
I’ve
already run through all of your responses.”
Blue eyes challenged blue,
and abruptly, he roared with laughter. “What a son
you would have made!”
“But I am not your son, father.
Haldar is your firstborn son and heir,
while I am your unwanted daughter.”
He sobered as swiftly as he had
laughed, and the mirth in blue eyes
disappeared. “Ah, Haleth, do you truly believe that?” He knelt before
her and
took the hand that did not hold the sword. “If so, then I am sorry
indeed for
bringing this upon you.”
“When ever did you give me proof that
you loved me? You have ignored me in
favor of Haldar. You forbid me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I gave you
anything a lady could ever ask for—”
“But I am not a lady. I wish to be a
warrior.” She gestured at her abandoned
needlework and at the dried herbs. “I have no desire for such as this.”
“Then what do you
want?”
“Training in swordscraft and a place
within your warriors’ ranks.”
“The first I can grant you—but not
the second. Nay, my daughter, indulge me
in this, not because I believe you a coward or because you are a woman,
but
because I could not bear it if you fell in battle. In this at least,
Haleth, do
my will.”
“You mean it is because your warriors
will taunt you should I take my place
beside them,” she said, turning her head aside to hide her tears.
Haldad’s scarred hand reached up to
guide her head to face him, and dabbed
at her eyes with his shirt’s sleeve. “If you would be a warrior,
Haleth, face
me.” He released her chin and she gazed down at him, waiting for
whatever else
he would say.
“As long as there is even a chance
that some of our people may survive, you
will be among that number. You are under my
command, Haleth, and you will do as I order. I give you leave to be
among the
archers but you will not go with the sorties I lead. You are not yet
skilled
enough.”
“I can
fight. I have been practicing—”
He shook his head. “No, Haleth. You
do not know what fierce enemies the
orcs are. I will not risk having you freeze in battle, thus endangering
the
others. And I will not have you die.
You will live to see better days.”
“And if the messages you sent are not
answered and aid does not come?”
He rose and looked down on her this
time, and blue eyes grew bleak. “Should
that ill day come, then I swear to you that I will allow you to take up
your
sword for a last defense.”
“Thank you, father,” Haleth said,
elated that her father would at least let
her be among the archers. And then Haldad left, thinking only one thing
that
Haleth could not hear.
War is not a game. Have I
done ill to let
Haleth fight?
And though his mind screamed YES!
at him, his heart lay silent until it whispered, No.
It was moons later when Haleth
remembered his other words and warnings.
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