Shindig

[Eurydice]

“Mistress?” Davin asked, brow quirked slightly as he squinted at Maura in the fading light. “Why aren’t you using Crescent?”

It was early evening in the courtyard behind the Sakis household; cloudy day was quickly dissolving into cloudy night, with the promise of rain by the morning. The two of them usually practiced in the late morning and early afternoon, but Maura had requested a later practice today, wanting to work in different lighting conditions and hoping to experiment with the partially shadowy cover of dusk. In the breezy cool, Davin stood at the ready in a solid stance, Hyperion in both hands, and looked quizzically at Maura, who faced him, holding her father’s sword.

She smiled. “We’re going to try something a little different tonight. You’ll see.” The young swordswoman closed her eyes and whispered a spell. Watching, Davin wasn’t sure at first what she’d done, but when she raised the sword, the movement of her arms was enough to show him the slight lag and blur in her movements. It wasn’t a huge effect, but in the evening shadows, even the slight distortion that Maura had provided would be a challenge.

“Now… come at me.”

Without hesitation, the apprentice moved forward, entering one of the classic moon-sun patterns that he and Maura had been drilling for months now. He knew he was slipping up due to the haze around her movements, but he listened for her footfall on the ground and learned quickly how to judge her distance. “I recall facing these tactics long ago…”

“Oh, really?” said Maura, her voice somewhat disjointed from her figure. The effect was disconcerting.

“Indeed; during my time with the… church…” Davin noticed too that the sword was getting harder to keep track of as well. It looked closer to a rapier now than a sword of the north, and now a short sword, and now a weapon he wasn’t sure he recognized. It couldn’t have just been a trick of the light, but he’d never seen Maura enchant something as thoroughly as that. He broke out of musing over the sword when he realized that he’d lost track of the hazy form of his mistress.

An almost-missed scrape of leather boots against stone were the only warning he had before he turned to parry Maura’s powerful swing. There was no mistaking it; her weapon was a broadsword now, and the blow pushed him back slightly, barely parrying in time. He grinned appreciatively. “A cunning tactic, Mistress…”

Maura pressed on, waiting for him to get out from the pressure of the attack on his own. “Not the kind of weapon you’ll face off with a lot, but it helps to be ready for surprises.”

Something in the weapon itself, then, thought Davin. Not something she cast on it. That’s why she isn’t using Crescent. “Indeed,” he said with a mild smile as he adjusted his weight slightly, “one must always be wary of surprises.” When he was sure his footing was right, Davin took half a step and spun out of her attack. She stumbled slightly, and Davin advanced, on the offensive. “Master Lagoon’s been offering me a few pointers.”

“Very smoothly done,” she laughed, delighted and approving as she gracefully danced back a few feet. “I like it.”

They continued to spar as the night fell around them. “Mistress, I’d hoped to end our session early tonight…” said Davin, feinting back as Jaded Heart, now a scimitar, flashed out at him again, bright silver against the shadowy gray.

“Should be fine.” The two of them moved as one and struck an attack which locked them in a high swing, arms pushing and trembling as they strained against each other. “What’s the occasion?”

Davin cleared his throat, looking a bit uncomfortable; then again, “uncomfortable” was one of the most usual expressions on his face. “…Nothing important…” He mumbled slightly when he spoke. “My birthday… I usually take the opportunity to reflect on the past year and update my journal; I hope I have some time before turning in for the night…”

“Your birthday?!”

Maura started back in astonishment, and her intended lesson in the element of surprise promptly turned against her as the force of Davin’s advance threw her to the ground. He hurried over to help her to her feet, looking concerned. “Mistress, are you alright?”

She kept a hold on his hand as she pulled herself up and promptly proceeded to forcibly drag him back into the house.

“Your birthday, honestly… Cloche! Cloche?...”

“I… um… Mistress?”

They found her standing in the middle of the study, clad in a pretty red practice outfit and white leggings; Elsa’s volume, the chronicle of the Six Swords, was floating in front of her, and her sword, Hellfire, was in her hand. She was moving carefully through several unorthodox-looking stances, and she tilted her head slightly at the two approaching. “Mmm?”

Maura skidded to a halt, Davin behind her. “Cloche, a certain swordsman failed to inform us that today is his birthday.”

In a heartbeat, Cloche’s face brightened and was inches from Davin’s, clasping his free hand eagerly; behind her, Elsa’s volume had fallen to the floor, entirely forgotten in favor of much more important matters. “Oh, Davin! Truly?” She gave a little squeak of excitement and sheathed Hellfire with a flourish. “We must celebrate!”

Davin blushed and looked away slightly, evidently not thrilled at being sandwiched between the two girls. “R-r-really, Lady Cloche, it’s not necessary… I’m not really one for celebrations, you see. (No, really? Maura thought with a snigger. I never would have guessed that.) A nice, quiet birthday is good enough for me.” His hallmark uncomfortable look was firmly in place again, brow furrowed slightly as he gave a nervous laugh. Neither girl budged from her arm-hold on him, and he looked back and forth between them a bit anxiously. “Perhaps I’ll cook something special and the four of us can have a nice quiet dinner here…”

He was trying to win them over by matching their enthusiasm, but it wasn’t getting him anywhere. Maura wrapped her arm around his and led him towards the door. “Oh, not very likely. Come on; we’ve only got a few hours left in the day to do something. Where’s that brother of yours gone off to, Cloche?”

A door banged open a few rooms over, and they heard Lagoon calling hello before he stuck his head in the study to find Davin, looking very frightened, pinioned by the girls. “Davin, what are they doing to you?” His eyes narrowed, looking back and forth between the pretty girls with innocent smiles. “What are you doing to Davin?”

“Well—” Davin began.

“It’s his birthday!” Maura burst. “And he didn’t say anything about it until just now!”

Just as abruptly as his sister’s had done, Lagoon’s face brightened. “Birthday? That’s great! Let’s go party.” He waved off Davin’s half-hearted protestations that he wasn’t really a party person. “Come on, Davin; lighten up! Don’t be so stodgy. You’re only what… twenty-five now? This is the springtime of youth! Cherish it!” He pounded Davin on the back, somewhat carried away by his enthusiasm.

Smiling more gently, Maura took his hand that she still held and squeezed it lightly. “Please?”

It was obvious that the three were not going to let him out of this. “Well… I suppose… just for a quick dinner. But then we can come back, right?” He looked from Cloche to Lagoon to Maura. “Right?”

“Of course we can…” said Cloche, winking at Lagoon.

Maura dropped his hand with a smile. “And you’ll go willingly, apprentice?”

Half reluctant, half teasing, and with a wan smile, Davin replied, “Yes, Mistress.”

[Eurydice]

The Mask and the Mirror was, of the taverns in town, best known for its regular crowd of patrons, quick and friendly service, and enthusiastic musicians who made up in spirit for all that they lacked in subtlety and finesse. A bright if somewhat beaten-up wooden sign hung over the door, depicting a colorful half-mask in front of a silver shield, and threads of well-worn, well-loved folk tunes leaked out from the windows and door, spilling into the street with boundless zeal.

Cloche was well-acquainted with the place, and she pronounced it acceptable as she held the door open for Davin, who entered with trepidation. “I’m not sure that this is the best place for a quiet meal…”

“Don’t worry, Davin,” Cloche interrupted, surveying the room proudly. “These folk will help you celebrate your birthday in style.” She waved. “Hello, boys!”

A table of drunks turned towards the four in the doorway and erupted into cheers for their favorite girl.

“Boys, you all know Davin, right?” More cheers, although Cloche wasn’t actually sure if any of them were acquainted with Davin or merely aware that she was saying something. “It’s Davin’s birthday today!”

There was a brief moment of silence, and the table erupted into cheering, pounding on the table, muddled wishes for many happy returns of the day, and incomprehensible yells that, they assumed, meant something along the same lines. A few came over to heartily thump him on the back as the four headed over to a relatively clean table near the musicians part of the room.

Davin laughed nervously and gave a little wave. “Um. Thank you? It’s, um… good to, uh… thank you…”

One of the enthusiastic patrons shoved a mug of ale at him with a handshake and well wishes. Davin looked up in surprise. “I usually don’t indulge…”

“Oh, for the love of the goddess.” Maura wore the exasperated look of a parent with a finicky child, refusing to eat his vegetables. “Have a drink! It’ll do you good.”

Miraculously, Cloche had already obtained a mug as well (The tentative “Cloche… um, don’t drink too much…” from her brother was ignored) and was freely gesturing with it for emphasis. “Don’t be shy, Davin; your birthday only comes once a year!” She threw back her head and took a long swig from her mug.

“I really don’t think that…”

Maura grinned evilly. “Apprentice.”

This is a terrible idea, Davin didn’t say. I do not think that this is going to be conducive to a quiet meal, he didn’t add. He took the ale and chugged it as Cloche cheered, and the little blond girl leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek as he set the mug back down, blushing brightly again.

Davin looked slightly stunned. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

A new song started up, something celebratory and upbeat, and Cloche leapt up happily. “Oh, wonderful! Come along, Davin!”

Lagoon, who had just finished ordering food for the table, watched his sister drag Davin off with a smile. “There she goes.” He shook his head, bemused, and perched on the corner of the table, watching them.

“So,” said Maura. “Which one of them d’you think’s going to be in worse shape by tomorrow?”

***

By the time the food came out, Lagoon and Maura had joined Cloche and Davin in dancing. The song was building to a frenzied climax; Cloche and Davin had taken center of the circling crowd and, arms linked, were whirling about the floor. Cloche was the nimbler of the two and was going through bits of intricate footwork that Maura could barely follow, but Davin took it in stride with remarkable aplomb, his feet almost as sure as hers as they hit the floor.

The crowd whooped with approval as the song ended. “Hey, Cloche!” Lagoon started for the table. “Food’s here! Let’s eat, I’m starving…”

“Oh, food.” Davin looked vaguely relieved. “Good…”

Maura clapped Davin on the back as he sat. “That wasn’t so terrible, was it?”

“Of course not, no…”

Lagoon was holding Cloche’s chair for her and muttering something about watching how much she drank tonight, which she waved away with a pout. “Davin, you are an excellent dancer!” She leaned over to him, and for once, he didn’t shy away from her with a look of terror. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

Looking only minimally flustered by the compliment, Davin thought on the question, as if not quite sure himself where he’d learned. “Just… traveling around, you watch people in towns and taverns…” He shrugged and set into his food.

Maura had opted to sip her ale rather than throw it back like Cloche and Davin were doing. Between bites, Davin was tentatively starting into an anecdote about one of his less-successful ventures as a traveling mercenary and the consequences thereof, and Cloche listened, raptly attentive as she carelessly poked at her vegetables. “Lagoon?” Maura raised her mug, noting that he was the only one at the table currently without a drink in front of him. “Want something?”

“Oh.” Lagoon looked up from his steak and then back down again with an odd look on his face. “Um… no, I don’t drink alcohol.”

Cloche poured Davin another drink, and the evening wore on.

“So Davin.” Lagoon spoke up again as the meal was winding down. “You never did tell us where you learned to use a sword. You’re pretty good.”

“Guess I didn’t.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not really important… just Church work... defending the wealthy and powerful, hunting down dangerous heretics…”

Lagoon leaned forward slightly under the pretense of interest in Davin’s story and used the opportunity to deftly reach over and switch out Cloche’s ale for something less offensive. Cloche pouted and ate her vegetables. “Heretics, huh?”

“Yes,” said Davin, “heretics.” He took a sizable gulp from the mug in front of him. “Y’know. Anyone who didn’t precisely conform in body, spirit, and mind to the exact letter of the Solar Church’s law was obviously a criminally insane terrorist and an enemy of the people who should be dealt with accordingly…” He trailed off looking a little embarrassed. “Um. I didn’t mean to say that… like that.”

Maura watched him curiously. She’d heard fragments of the circumstances that had led to Davin’s turning mercenary, but she never had heard the whole story. She wasn’t sure that she ever would, but she’d be ready to listen if the time did come.

“Sounds like you don’t really agree with that,” Lagoon said neutrally, which was, of course, a long-winded way of saying “go on.”

Poking at his food, Davin looked surprisingly placid, which was curious considering the fact that he usually shied away from talk of his days with the Church. “It didn’t really occur to me to question it, for a while. You just...” You realize that this isn’t where you want to be. You come to understand the difference between the literal and the commonly understood. You figure out that the institution can be a completely separate entity from the belief system that it’s supposed to represent. You see the faces of innocent wives and children and you’re expected to slaughter them. And it dawns on you that these people who profess to hold the same beliefs that you do are nothing like you, but there’s nowhere left for you to turn… He took a long swallow of his drink again, looking down into it as if hoping to find an answer there. “You just see things that change your mind.”

Lagoon pointed his fork at Davin, a piece of broccoli speared on the end. “Are you happy you changed your mind?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately, a crescent of a genuine smile gracing his face.

Cloche reached over and snagged the broccoli from Lagoon. “Mine!”

They broke into easy laughter. “This is no kind of talk for a birthday party,” Maura said, covering her curiosity about the topic with a gesture of disdain. She twisted around in her chair to the musicians, who were trying in vain to tune their shabby instruments. “Oi! Music!” One of them jumped at her shout; the others scrambled to reassemble and start another number, one of their own devising, upbeat, catchy, and loud.

“Come on, Davin! It’s your birthday; enjoy it!” Cloche was on her feet again, dragging Davin out of his seat. “The Queen demands a dance from the birthday boy, and the Queen shall not be denied!”

“Oh, very well…”

Maura watched them stumble off, smiling faintly. She thought of something of which she’d made a mental note earlier and turned to Lagoon. “Mind if I ask why you don’t drink?”

“Oh…” Lagoon cleared his throat, suddenly deeply interested in the plate in front of him. He said nothing for a moment. “You remember when I told you about my mom?” He poked at a lone piece of steak, slightly overcooked. Maura nodded, sipping her drink.

(“Gather ‘round, ladies!” Cloche was shouting, somewhere in the background. “The birthday boy is returning to the floor!”)

Lagoon chuckled, blushing slightly. “This is kind of dumb, actually—”

“Not if it bothers you.”

He looked up, smiling, grateful. “When I drink alcohol, it feels like my throat is burning. Reminds me of the day they came to take Cloche; there was a lot of fire and smoke.” He shrugged. “I can’t drink it.”

“Doesn’t sound stupid at all,” Maura said lightly. “I just wanted to know.”

(“Cloche, slower! I don’t know this one!” Davin was being mercilessly whirled about between several pretty girls; Cloche had just now caught him again.)

They sat watching the two apprentices. “Sometimes, I think Cloche drinks my share anyway,” he said with a laugh. He turned his eyes to Davin, stumbling to keep up with the interlocking arms and stamping feet around him. “What do you think of him, Maura? Will he make a good sunsword?”

“Oh, definitely.” Maura laughed softly, looking thoughtful. “It’s funny… my father taught me sword work in a very strict, orderly way. That’s all I know, really, and I’m teaching him as best I can like that… but he’s really adaptable, too. He’s comfortable with experimenting, trying out new moves.” She looked at Lagoon, blushing slightly but proud. “I like teaching.” Even though I’m bad at it. “I like being able to make a difference for some sort of good.”

(“Hey!” Davin yelled, all made of helpless laughter. “I can’t make my feet do that!”)

“That’s what we’re all about, Maura,” Lagoon smiled.

(With a shriek from one of the girls, tall and slender with carelessly wavy hair, Davin went sprawling into a row of chairs.)

Maura asked, “What’s it like teaching Cloche?”

Lagoon grinned slyly. “This is the one thing I’m much better at than her, and she knows it.”

“How terrible for her.”

“She’s like a little kid, sometimes,” he said, watching her standing with the circle of girls, laughing and clapping along with the music. “She gets excited; she nearly cut my head off a few times!” He shook his head, bemused. “But I think Hellfire is a good fit for her—lots of flourish and pretty stuff. She likes it, and she’s good at it. I wouldn’t want to fight her when she gets serious.”

“We should have our apprentices face off against each other some time,” Maura said with a smile. “See how well we teachers are doing our job.”

“Davin would lose.” Lagoon laughed. “Cloche would flash him a million-gold-piece smile, and he’d be done. Train him to fight blind.”

He did have a point.

“Besides,” Lagoon went on, “she’s got the blood of Brond, Miscelle, and, if you think about it, Vahler, too.”

“So?” Maura raised her eyebrows.

Lagoon winked. “Just sayin’.”

Maura looked over at her apprentice, her tone half joking, half wishful. “We hardly know anything about him, though.” She shared a half-smile with Lagoon. “Maybe his great-grandfather was a master swordsman, too.”

Cloche was back with Davin in tow, although this time, he seemed to be a much more willing subject of her whim. “My goodness, that was fun!” the girl exclaimed, landing herself in her seat with a royal flourish.

Obviously and giddily out of breath from the ladies’ assault, Davin set himself down beside her. “I think I need another one of those…” he started, pointing to his now-empty mug, but Maura was already signaling the bartender for another. He smiled gratefully. “You two should’ve joined us; make me look like less of a fool.”

“Don’t look at me,” laughed Maura. “I’m no good at dancing either.” She passed him his drink.

“I would have,” Lagoon smiled, “but I’m beat.”

“Well, Davin?” asked Cloche, beaming. “What do you say? Surely this is one of your better birthdays?”

He sipped his ale, smiling in spite of himself. “Well, it’s certainly… different.”

Playfully, Cloche rolled her head, blonde hair tangled from the constant movement, over to rest on his shoulder and rolled her eyes up to look at him with mischievous eyes set in a mock serious expression. “You’re having fun…”

He pulled away, but good-naturedly rather than nervously. “I have fun!” he insisted fussily. “…in my own way…” he added. Cloche twisted her head up to look at him properly; Davin stared back at her pretty face and its silly furrowed brow, and the two of them broke into a fit of helpless giggles.

Lagoon sighed and yawned. “Well, she’s drunk. And so’s he.”

Maura smirked. “I’ve never seen him laugh this much, so I’d concur.”

***

Several songs and a couple drinks later (Maura had, over Lagoon’s mild protests, let Davin continue drinking as long as he was coherent enough to keep ordering), Lagoon was resting on folded arms on the table, looking sleepy. Davin, for his part, was seated with a table of new friends, regaling them with heroic tales of derring-do from the wandering sword-for-hire. Cloche still looked hazily intoxicated; Maura, still wakeful, watched the other three like a good shepherd seeing over her flock. She glanced over at Lagoon. “If you want to head back, I can probably steer the two of them back to the house.”

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“He misses Amiel,” Cloche whispered knowledgably, like a schoolgirl whispering a forbidden secret with which she was well familiar. Amiel had left almost a week ago for some court function which she assured them would be needlessly tedious.

“Shut up, Cloche,” Lagoon said sweetly.

“I’m right!” She beamed proudly. “I’m right.”

Maura smiled slightly at the twins, nursing her second drink in silence.

Lagoon yawned again and stood, giving Cloche a sleepy glare. “Actually, I think I will head home.” He stood, stretched like a lazy cat basking in the sun, and called over to Davin at the other table. “Hey, Davin! Happy birthday! I’m heading home; don’t drink too much!”

Davin waved cheerfully and turned back to his new friends. “Where was I? Ohh, yeah. There were fif-teen of them! And they were allll around me…” His claque ooohed approvingly.

Cloche shouted to her brother as he stumbled out the front door. “You should tell her you love her!”

“You’re terrible, my dear queen,” Maura said wryly.

“He should!” Cloche sniffed indignantly. “He should tell her. It’s not nice to keep a girl waiting; am I right, Maura?”

(“Yeah, really!” Davin said proudly. “An’ there’s jus’ me an’ my sword an’ they’d shot my horse down and so I couldn’ go…”)

The crowd in the tavern had thinned out considerably; few customers were still drinking, aside from the birthday party, and the patrons who were still in the room were mostly in the process of paying the bill and heading home for the night. There were a couple serving girls who had switched to clean-up duty, and one of the musicians was playing a wistful solo on the recorder. Maura watched the dreamy expression on Cloche’s face as the girl mentally played out romantic fantasies. “Well. Do you think she’s told him?”

Cloche pouted slightly, looking mildly put out. “Well, not outright, no.”

“Well, there you are,” said Maura, eyes twinkling.

Sighing dramatically, Cloche folded her arms on the table and, like her brother, lay her head down on them. She looked sideways at Davin, squinting a bit. “It’s just… real love is hard to find, isn’t it? Once you find it, you should grab hold of it tightly.” She gestured vaguely.

Maura said nothing, staring down into her drink.

“Teasing boys like him is fun,” Cloche said, pointing a lazy finger at Davin and smiling. “But I hope that I find someone the way my brother found Amiel.” She let out another melodramatic sigh, and Maura thought, for some reason, how lonely she looked sitting there, pretty little seventeen-year-old girl falling asleep on a table, wondering when this magical, ephemeral love would grace her with its presence.

(“And,” Davin added, “one of them was so tall… like, up to here tall…” He gestured towards the ceiling.)

“Give it time,” Maura said, smiling and ruffling the other girl’s hair teasingly. “You never know what’s gonna come your way and when.”

Cloche giggled at Davin’s tall tale and tilted her head up to look at Maura in mock solemnity. “Then again, perhaps he could be the one!...” They both laughed.

(“…and WHAM!” He gave a wide, sweeping gesture that almost knocked several drinks off the table and into his companions’ laps and almost sent him spinning out of his chair. “…he was out like that.” He nodded cannily, and the others at the table imitated the attack and pounded the table in approval.)

Maura subtly lifted her mug in a silent toast before draining the last of its contents. “If you want to drag him onto the floor for one more dance, I’d say do it now. We should head home before someone does himself permanent damage.” She smiled thinly, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The Queen didn’t budge. “I do believe I’m finished with dancing for the night, Lovely-Maura…”

Smiling slightly at Cloche’s signature I’m-very-sleepy-or-very-drunk-or-possibly-both nickname for her, Maura stood and gently patted her on the back before coming up behind Davin and clapping him on the shoulder. “Oi, Davin. I hear there’s someone back at the house who’s going to challenge you to an honor duel. He’s waiting for you in your room. You’d better see what he wants.”

Blinking up at her, Davin looked very muddled indeed. Oh yeah, thought Maura. Tomorrow’s going to be interesting. “But,” said Davin. “I was talking to my friends.” He seemed to think on the matter, considering it thoughtfully, propped up on his elbow. “But I guess I should do that.” The young sunsword pushed himself to his feet; Maura, well prepared, caught his arm as he swayed and stumbled. He waved at the table behind him. “I’ll see you guys!”

Cloche was back on her feet by the time they reached their table. Stumbling only slightly, she took Davin’s face in both hands. “Well, Davin,” she said, eyes glinting with candlelight and mischief, “I hope you had a nice birthday.” She leaned in and kissed him, a long, eager kiss, and Davin’s fan club at the other table broke into cheers, whistles, and cat calls.

Maura rolled her eyes, holding back a smile.

Releasing Davin, who was blushing pleasantly, Cloche tapped him on the nose. “Happy birthday.” She turned her sleepy head towards the exit. “Come along, Lovely-Maura! The night is done, and the Queen needs her rest.”

With a smile and a sigh, Maura shepherded her companions towards the door, nodding to the table of friendly drunks with a grin. “G’night, gents; thanks for the party.”

“G’night, Maura!” they called after her, or at least, she was pretty sure that was what they were saying; it sounded more like something along the lines of Geraayt maaaaahr, but it was the thought that counted, as with most things in this life.

Cloche and Davin, arms linked, managed to stay remarkably on their feet. Cloche skipped along the road, singing an old lullaby, and Davin accompanied her badly, although he was not, at the moment, quite coordinated enough to do anything so complicated as skipping. Maura lifted her face up to enjoy the cool breeze washing over them, and gentle thunder sounded somewhere in the distance. Mercifully, the walk back to the Sakis household was a quick one and, with some clattering and much clutching of the rail in the stairwell, they both made it to their rooms without passing out.

Making sure that the two were reasonably in control of themselves, Maura sleepily headed to her own room and let herself fall into bed. The last thing she heard before abandoning herself to Morabrenin was Davin’s voice from the next room, challenging his pillow to an honor duel before his body hit the mattress.