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DargonZine Volume 22 Issue 02
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 22
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 2
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DargonZine Distributed: 6/6/09
Volume 22 Number 2 Circulation: 646
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Contents
Editorial Jim Owens
Shore Leave Jim Owens Naia 16, 1018
Growing Pains Amy Peveto Melrin 5, 1014
========================================================================
DargonZine is the publication vehicle of The Dargon Project, Inc.,
a collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet.
We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project.
Please address all correspondence to <dargon@dargonzine.org> or visit
us on the World Wide Web at http://www.dargonzine.org/, or our FTP site
at ftp://ftp.dargonzine.org/. Issues and public discussions are posted
to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
DargonZine 22-2, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright 6 June, 2009 by
The Dargon Project, Inc. Editor: Jon Evans <thegodling@verizon.net>,
Assistant Editor: John White <john.white@DREXEL.EDU>.
DargonZine is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs-
NonCommercial License. This license allows you to make and distribute
unaltered copies of DargonZine, complete with the original attributions
of authorship, so long as it is not used for commercial purposes.
Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden.
To view a detailed copy of this license, please visit
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/1.0 or send a letter to
Creative Commons, 559 Nathan Abbott Way, Stanford CA, 94305 USA.
========================================================================
Editorial
by Jim Owens
gymfuzz@yahoo.com
What a difference ten years can make -- or not make. Ten years ago no
one had heard of "Twitter", or "YouTube", or even "Wikipedia". Ten years
ago the Dow Jones closed above 10,000 for the first time. Ten years ago
the eleventh of September was just the Ethopian New Years day. The
passage of time has brought many changes. Of course, ten years ago the
news was filled with stories of war in a place many people knew little
and cared even less about. Ten years ago SpongeBob SquarePants was the
popular with the under-10 crowd. And ten years ago Bill Clinton was a
hot topic in Washington, DC. The world has changed -- and yet also
stayed the same.
Ten years ago the Dargon Project was a hyper-text-based web-published
electronic magazine publishing volunteer-written fantasy fiction based
solely in the created world of Dargon. We were about a year into a
series of changes that we hoped would bring good changes to the Project.
Ten years later we can see the results. One of the more important
changes was the introduction of a mentoring process to help new writers
quickly adapt their writing to the growing and complex world of Dargon.
Ten years on and we are again about a year into a series of changes that
we hope will bring positive change to the project, and we are still
bringing in new writers. This issue will combine both the new and the
old. Ten tears ago my story "Withstand the Flood" was the lead story,
and this issue will carry my latest work, "Shore Leave", another episode
in the life of Danae, a sailor with a secret that drove her from her
home and now threatens to tear her away from her new home. Also included
is "Growing Pains", the first story for our newest published writer, Amy
Peveto, who benefited greatly from one of our changes, a writers forum.
"Growing Pains" is itself an exploration of change and growth, and the
pleasant surprises that process can bring.
The world we live in has many challenges, and the Dargon Project will
need to change and adapt. We strive to continue to meet our goals of
growing new writers and continuing to produce the quality fiction that
you love and deserve. Stay with us for the next ten years, and see how
we change!
========================================================================
Shore Leave
By Jim Owens
gymfuzz@yahoo.com
Naia 16, 1018
Danae trudged down the path, a fruit-filled bucket at each end of
the yoke she carried on her shoulders. Below on the beach, one of her
shipmates, Kitley by name, was seated on the trunk of a fallen tree
chopping some of the fruit she had already carried down from the forest.
She watched as he worked, his hand a blur as he wielded the massive
knife. Other than the hand, his body was motionless. He looked cool and
comfortable, unlike Danae who was hot inside her heavy coat. She wished
she could take it off, but its canvas was protecting her shoulders from
the chafing of the yoke. Danae envied Kitley's assignment for a moment,
then she pushed back her feelings of resentment. She wasnít the only one
on the bucket detail; another shipmate, named Kodo, also was carrying
the heavy pods down the hill. Kitley was an older man, not frail but
thinner than any of the other crew. Still, Danae chafed a bit at the
menial detail. She had done more complex work in Sharkís Cove before she
had been invited to become a sailor. She looked out across the water,
seeing the distant hills of north Rubel. Not for the first time she
wondered if she was suited to the seafaring life.
Their ship, the Friendly Lion, had left port on Rubel a day before
loaded with bolts of cloth. Calling the harbor they had visited a port
was generous; it was a simple pier in the mouth of a river. Captain
Tennent had explained that Beinison claimed exclusive rights to trade
with Rubel. This forced the Friendly Lion to sneak in and out, taking a
slower, northern route. They had stopped at the island to take on water
and gather food. Captain Tennent had particularly wanted to pickle some
of the local staples. Danae and Kodo had been picking them since
sunrise. Although the island was not uninhabited, they had not seen any
locals. Danae wondered if their skin would be as dusky as hers. The
weather was warm, and the plants that grew in the forest reminded her of
where she grew up in the south of Rubel. She suspected that there was a
warm current that flowed here. It was strange to be so close to her old
home and yet not have any plans to actually go there. She felt a wash of
nostalgia, but pushed it from her mind. It made no sense to go back,
though -- she had left that place and those people to seek her own way
in the world.
She reached the beach, her stride slowing to deal with the softer
surface. There a line of barrels awaited. All were full save one; it was
half-full of brine and fruit. Into this last she emptied her buckets.
After she did that, she noted that the barrel was three-quarters full.
This task was almost done. She looked back up the beach to where Kodo
was descending with his own burden. He seemed much lighter on his feet
than she had been. She wondered if he really had filled his buckets. If
he had, then his was the last trip up to the forest. She was glad -- her
back and shoulders ached. She shrugged and stretched for a bit, then
checked the seal on the first of the full barrels and tipped it over.
The seal held, and she began to roll the barrel towards the ship.
The Friendly Lion had been anchored in a river mouth, taking
advantage of the deep channel to reach the shore. She floated higher in
the water than usual, due to the light load of cargo, so the crew had
drawn it close enough to shore that Danae only had to wade waist deep to
reach the gangplank. She pushed the barrel to the gangplank, then rolled
it up on deck. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, then rolled
it over to the side of the cabin where it would be lashed in place. She
then headed back down to the shore for the next barrel. Kodo and Danae
spent a half a bell bringing the barrels up to the deck. Danae lashed
the barrels in place while Kodo returned to fetch the buckets.
"Danae."
She turned to see Blen Sailmaker coming out of the cabin. She
smiled. Of all the crewmembers, Blen was the one she got along with
best. It was he who had found her in Shark's Cove and invited her
onboard. He had vouched for her, putting his own pay at risk for her.
She hoped she had not disappointed him.
"Good work," he said, coming over to her. He tugged the barrels,
and they didn't move. "This should stay put until we make land again."
He looked up at the lowering sun. "The captain wants to leave just
before dusk, to avoid any patrols." He looked about. "You have a few
bells. Take a break, take a nap. Itíll be a long run tonight."
"Straight." Danae nodded. She climbed down into the hold, then
headed forward. Just aft of the prow was a single hammock. She rolled
herself into it and closed her eyes. Above her she could hear Blenís
footfalls. After a mene she heard splashing, then steps on the
gangplank. Blen spoke, and Kodo answered, but the words were indistinct.
She expected Blen was telling Kodo what he had told her. Sure enough,
after a moment Kodo clambered down into the hold. After clattering about
he came forward. He also slept forward. Danae didnít open her eyes or
move, hoping he would leave when he saw the hammock occupied. He did.
For menes she lay there willing herself to sleep, but could not.
The scents and sounds that reached her from outside were too familiar.
She could not relax. It was as if she was expecting a visit that would
not, could not come. That old panic, the urge to run away, to be set
loose, welled up again after being quiet for so long. Finally she got
out of the hammock. She climbed up the ladder and stood on the deck. Not
a soul was in sight. She considered going to the cabin to see if Blen
was there, then decided against it. Thatís where the captain slept, and
she didn't want to intrude on his rest. Instead she padded down the
gangplank. She waded to shore and stopped, looking up and down the
river. No one was in sight. She headed downriver, heading for the
seashore.
The crew had anchored the ship deep into the mouth of the river,
hoping to hide it from any passing ships. Danae had to walk for a dozen
menes or so to reach the spot where the river reached the ocean. The
beach was unmarked by human feet, and relatively clear for at least a
league in each direction. The inhabitants seemed to not frequent this
shore, which is why the captain had chosen it. Danae left her coat on a
fallen tree and waded into the river. The water was warm but silted. She
swam to the other shore and stood, wet and bare, as the sun caressed
her. The warm light glinted off her wet flank which was covered in a
fine tracery of stylized fish scales rendered in black ink. She breathed
deeply and stretched, flinging her brown-skinned arms back and shrugging
her wide shoulders. Exhaling, she took off running up the shore
Her mind was remarkably clear as she ran along the edge of the
water. Danae had expected to be more troubled by the sights and scents
of these semi-tropical islands, but she actually felt comforted by them.
The ocean here was calm and blue, like the waters she knew as a child.
Part of her expected unhappy memories of her lost home to press in on
her, as they had in the hold of the Friendly Lion, but that wasn't what
she was feeling. Instead, she felt freedom. Perhaps the fact that the
beach was so empty helped. Memories of her childhood came to her:
memories of running naked on the shore for bells and leagues, leaving
her own marks on the blank sands. She felt good.
Ahead a small finger of the ocean extended itself inland, forming a
small lagoon. She ran to it. A rocky outcropping at the far side
punctuated the otherwise pristine beach, which was surrounded by
unbroken forest. Almost without consideration Danae plunged into the
clear water of the lagoon. Time seemed to stop as she dove again and
again, exploring the colorful life that occupied the bottom. Finally the
bottom sloped upward as she reached the far side. She surfaced again,
and saw him.
He was sitting on the rocks just before her, and he was watching
her. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Like her, he was
naked, but that was hardly his most outstanding feature. His skin was
dark green, and his shoulders and chest were covered with scales. His
hair was dark and matted, and his fingers ended in black talons. She
could not see his eyes, but she knew their pupils were slitted. She had
seen his kind before. She stood and waded toward him. As she got closer
the tracings on her thigh began to itch. She rubbed them and the itch
faded.
"Hello," she said. Her eyes shared her gaze between his wide,
unblinking eyes and his sinuous body.
"Hello," he replied. His speech was halting, but she had no
problems understanding him. It was as if a second voice was speaking
inside her head.
"You ... are one of ... us ..." His lips barely moved while he
spoke. He looked down at her thigh where she was still rubbing the itch
away. There were the lines on her thigh, drawn in dark ink in the shape
of scales.
"Perhaps ..." she said. She looked around. The lagoon still
appeared empty but for the two of them. Danae stood still and watched as
he slipped off the rocks into the water beside her. She was still in
shock at having met him. She didnít flinch as he ran his hand across her
shoulders. His hand was cold.
"You ... are beautiful ..." he said. He looked deep into her eyes.
"Come. Swim with me."
He slipped silently under the water. Danae followed, plunging into
the warm water. He immediately surfaced, and she followed.
"No." There was a spark in his eyes. "*Swim* with me."
Danae returned his fire for a long moment. Then she moved her hand
down and touched the lines of ink on her thigh. Her lips moved almost
silently, his thin lips moving in sympathy. She uttered a short phrase
in a tongue both proud and forgotten. As she did so he extended his arms
and took her by the hips, pulling her toward him. Together they fell
into the water.
She could smell that his name was Aleo. This knowledge was hers the
moment the water closed over her head. She also knew that they were not
alone. By the power of the spell the water brought her all this
information, as well as strength, grace, and joy. She broke away from
him and surged forward through the water, crossing the lagoon in
moments. On the far side she found others. They were both male: sons of
the sea. They regarded her with cold interest, sweeping over and around
her, tasting her essence in the water. They turned and swam away as Aleo
came up behind her. She in turn twisted around and fled across the
lagoon as fast as she could, crossing the expanse of water in a few
heartbeats. As she neared the stony outcrop she breached, sailing
completely clear of the water. She flipped and spun and laid herself
effortlessly across the warm stone. Aleo mirrored her movements exactly,
landing on the rocks behind her in a spray of seawater.
Danae held her hand out before her eyes. Her skin was as blue as
the deep sea, her fingers ending in black talons. Her gaze followed her
arm up to the shoulder, then swept down across her body. Like Aleo, she
was armored as a fish from her elbows to her belly. There were webs
between her fingers, and her feet were flatter and more articulated.
Save for the tangled green tresses that draped over her shoulders, her
hair was gone. She was now a daughter of the sea. She looked back over
her shoulder at Aleo. He moved closer, his slick chest slipping
frictionlessly over her flanks.
The memory of her grandmotherís voice came to her. Danae had been a
mere slender youth when her grandmother had first painted the scales on
her flanks. It was in her blood, her grandmother had explained. Only
certain people could work the enchantment and yet still walk the earth.
For as long as the spell held, Danae could breathe the ocean, brave the
depths with their cold and darkness, and had the strength of the sea.
There was a danger, too, that if she ever embraced the life of the sea
too dearly that she would never be able to return. This state held both
power and responsibility, both freedom and danger.
She remembered her fatherís voice also. Her father had been furious
when he found out what her grandmother had taught her. What man would
want a girl who was half fish? How would she find a place, even as a
third wife? She was already of the age and would soon join the rest of
the girls in the seclusion hut, before the choosing of wives. She must
never reveal the family curse to anyone, he had said, or she would die
an old, lonely woman. No, she must be silent and take her place in the
tribe.
Both voices were still strong in her head, even after many years
and many leagues. It had been a long time since she had last uttered
that fey incantation. She had almost forgotten the high brilliance that
filled her soul when she was a child of the sea. That ecstasy was only
heightened by the sight of this man, this male, this full-grown
ocean-seed. She had never felt a lust like this on land before. In an
instant she knew she was in danger of losing herself.
"I cannot swim with you, Aleo," Danae said, scrambling to her feet.
She reached for the spot on her thigh where the tracing still shown.
Aleo caught her hand.
"Do you not hear it?" He asked.
"I hear. I belong ... elsewhere." She gently pushed his hand away,
and touched the lines. Again she spoke in the ancient tongue. As she did
she exhaled the water from her lungs in a cough, then shivered. A glance
downward showed that her skin was again brown, not green like his, nor
white like Blen's. She shivered again, feeling suddenly alone.
"They cannot understand you, not like us," Aleo said, his hand on
her shoulder.
"No one can understand me," Danae replied, half to herself.
"Not even your grandmother?" Aleo asked. Danae started. How had he
known? She turned to stare at him.
"I must go," she said, jumping down off the rocks. How long had she
been gone? She had to get ... back. Back to the ship. Back to her other
life. Her own life.
"Donít go ..." Aleo said, but she was already running up the shore
toward the ocean. She had to swim across the mouth of the lagoon and she
could see dark shapes swimming beneath her. She splashed up out of the
water and onto dry land, feeling as if she was leaving part of herself
behind. As she ran up the beach, the sounds of screegulls drove her
onward.
When Danae reached the ship, Blen and Captain Tennent were standing
in the water at the bow. Both were stripped as if for swimming, so she
didnít feel as awkward carrying her coat. How pale they looked, she
thought. They talked quietly between themselves as they watched her
approach.
"Are we leaving soon?" she asked as she drew near. Tennent shook
his head.
"No. Kitley ate a few too many of the local fruit. Heís up there
chumming the tree roots." Tennent nodded at the forest in annoyance.
"Weíll have to wait until tomorrow to push off. Looks like we get to
relax for a day." With that he stepped away from the boat and dove into
the water, swimming away.
"He doesnít seem too upset," Danae said to Blen as she watched the
captain go.
"No, he has a soft spot in his head for old Kitley." He glanced
down at Danaeís legs. "Your inkís washing off."
Danae followed his gaze. As always, after using the spell the lines
of ink had been loosed and were washing away. "Yes, Iíll have to get
them painted back on when I get to port."
"Why not do it yourself?"
"I canít reach all the way around me," she said, turning for him.
Blen frowned and scratched his chin. "How much do they charge you?"
"Two Drin."
"Iíll do it for one."
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Straight."
The next day was occupied with fixing all the things aboard that no
one ever had time to fix on a normal sea run. Danae was fast with her
fingers and strong with her arms, so she was learning from Blen
Sailmaker how to fix the sails. He wore his last name well, for he was
skilled at working with the sheets. Danae watched him move. His sure and
graceful movements reminded her of Aleo. Blen had brought her freedom
and independence. She had never felt any desire to run away from Blen.
As for Aleo ...
Danae was no blushing virgin. Many years and leagues had passed
since she had fled the village that fateful day. She had dallied with
both love and lust, and had seen the sheen of that two-edged blade on
the men and women in her life. Never had that urge held her: after a
while it always began to smell like the fetid air of the seclusion hut,
crowded and confining. Then, as now, the need to make her own way drove
her onward. But Aleo was different. He did not smell confining. He
tasted like the sea, tasted like power. He could be hers, and she could
still be free. Together they could be so much more.
After the work was done she headed off toward the beach, a shawl
her only garb. Soon she was running up the beach far from the ship,
seeking the small lagoon. As soon as she could see the rocky outcrop her
heart started skipping. He was there. She forced herself to slow, to
take her time, walking the long way around the lagoon. She told herself
she was doing it to avoid wetting her shawl. Any other reasons remained
unformed in her mind. Still, her eyes were wide and her heart pounding
when she reached the stones.
"You return," he said simply.
"Yes." She sat down beside him and looked out across the lagoon.
"Stay with me," he said.
"I can stay a while, but then I must go." But did she really, she
asked herself.
"You know you are not truly one of them."
Danae considered. Blen had been so very nice and the others had
tolerated her, but there was still a distance, the same distance she
felt with all others. And why not? Who could understand what she lived
with? Who could understand the joy, the freedom, the longing the spell
left in her mind every time she used it? Who could possibly understand,
except someone who had felt it too?
"No," she agreed slowly. "I am not one of them." In her mind she
could hear her fatherís disapproval, feel her grandmotherís touch.
"You belong with me," he said, caressing her shoulders. His touch
was cold, but she did not draw back. The attraction was there, and it
grew stronger the longer he touched her. She wanted him, all of him, to
claim as her own. The part of her mind that was bonded to the sea wanted
this attraction. The rest of her mind was ill at ease, however. She
looked away.
"Where are the others?" she asked.
"They are here," he said. He opened his mouth and emitted a shrill
chirp. Danae looked out across the water of the lagoon. In a moment its
surface writhed and rippled as the sons and daughters of the sea swirled
underneath, the sunlight shattering on their dark skin and scales to
form a moving constellation. A swell of joy flooded Danaeís heart. It
seemed impossible that there could be so many like her, and Aleo ...
"Join us," whispered Aleo, his wide, green, slitted eyes staring
deep into hers. A thrill fluttered in Danaeís gut at these words. In an
instant her doubts evaporated, her mammal mind silenced. She nodded. His
cold hand slid off hers as he turned and silently slipped off the rocks
and into the water, his sea-green body instantly invisible. Danae
touched the scales drawn on her bare flank and whispered the phrase she
had so grown to fear. Leaning forward, she merged with the water.
As always the sea welcomed her. In an instant the dim waters of the
lagoon were alight with sensations the world of dry earth could never
feel. She darted effortlessly into the shoal of sea people, turning her
scaled body in time to theirs. For the first time in her adult life she
felt a family bond. Aleo glided alongside, his body caressing hers.
Instinctively she moved into him and they intertwined and entangled for
a moment, then he was gone.
The power of the spell took her and she broke away from the pod,
arcing upward until she broke the surface in a geyser of spray. At the
top of her leap she looked out across the island seeing the trees, shore
and mountain. As she began to fall back she looked across the lagoon
again. A flash of pink caught her eye. As she reentered the water she
turned toward it.
At first Danae thought it was a dolphin, but then she saw the long
swath of dark hair. Danae swam towards the strange sight. With a shock
she knew what she was seeing; it was a child. It had pink skin, long
black hair and large brown eyes with round pupils. The arms were a bit
short and somewhat flattened, ending in wide hands with long fingers. It
was a clearly a girl, but with a tail that ended in a broad horizontal
fluke. The girl was alone, swimming along the bottom. Danae followed her
and the girl slowed for Danae to catch up. Together they circled the
main group, heading back for shore. When almost there the girl headed
for the surface. Danae surged ahead, reaching the surface first. She
watched as the child breached, blowing out a huge breath and taking
another before diving again. Danae reached the shallows and stood up,
her dark skin catching the late afternoon sun. She flicked back her
tangled tresses and watched as the child circled her. The girl surfaced,
then lifted her torso out of the water, dancing on her tail for Danae.
She flashed Danae a perfect human smile. She was the most beautiful
thing Danae had ever seen. Then she opened her mouth and emitted a
piercing stream of squeals and chirps, alien and incomprehensible.
The water beside Danae erupted and Aleo was standing by her side.
"We leave now," he said simply.
"Who is she?" Danae asked, nodding at the child, who was still
dancing before her.
"A spawn from one of my mates," he answered.
"One?" Danae asked.
"I am the leader," he said simply. "All the females are mine." With
a shrug he dropped away, leaving only a vortex. His daughter leaped
clear of the water and dove again, following him. In a shimmering stream
the other children of the sea also followed, pouring out of the lagoon
and into the sea.
"All the females ... " Danae said to herself. She watched them go,
waiting until the last glint of sun off scale had faded. Danae touched
herself and murmured a simple incantation. She waded out of the warm
water and walked back to the rocks to get her shawl. She wrapped it
around her naked shoulders, which were once again their natural brown
hue. A light breeze touched her wet body, and she shivered. Leaving the
lagoon, she walked back towards the ship.
========================================================================
Growing Pains
by Amy M. Peveto
<ampeveto@tlu.edu>
Melrin 5, 1014
It was the night of the Melrin Ball, and as predicted it seemed the
entire kingdom had materialized at Dargon Keep. Beautiful carriages,
bearing equally beautiful people, had begun arriving just as the sun was
departing, and they had been entering in a steady stream for almost two
bells now; it was a wonder that the court marshal still had enough voice
left to announce the last few stragglers.
Hidden away in the darkest possible corner she could find, Aaliyah
sighed as couple by couple, the richest and most powerful citizens of
Dargon and the surrounding areas arrived. Food, richly appointed and
perfectly displayed, adorned the heavy wooden tables that ran down the
center of the room, and smartly dressed page-boys lugged around large
flagons of drink under the watchful eyes of more experienced servants.
The rustling of brocade dresses, the clanking of ceremonial weaponry,
and the clamor of voices all echoed around the hall, and the young
figure hidden away in the corner was beginning to think that no more
noise could fit.
Three sharp clangs abruptly drowned out the din, and from the upper
reaches of the hall came the court marshal's call.
"Announcing the Duke and Duchess of Dargon!"
The small creature that had heretofore been lurking in the shadows
tiptoed forward, taking care to remain mostly hidden behind the
voluminous skirts of several of the larger female guests. At the front
of the hall stood Clifton Dargon II, the duchess by his side. He wore
his family's coat of arms proudly on his chest, and his lady's dress had
been emblazoned with dozens of miniature copies over the sleeves and
bodice. The duke raised his arm in welcome.
"A fair Melrin to all! Let the ball begin!" A cry went up from the
crowd, and a large troupe of minstrels began to set up in one corner,
pulling instruments from bags and downing one last gulp of drink. In
short order the food and tables were moved to the sides of the room, and
the music began. Aaliyah sighed yet again and leaned against the nearest
pillar, looking wistfully at the musicians.
"Show your hands, villain!" These words, accompanied by a sharp
poke to the middle of her back, made her whirl around with a shriek.
Upon seeing her assailant, however, her look of fear was quickly
replaced by a withering glare.
"Kelrith Dunlevy, you louse. You're not to wave that thing at a
lady. Do you not have anything better to do than irritate me?"
The boy grinned mischievously as he sheathed his dagger.
"Nothing is more fun than bothering you, 'liyah."
The girl shoved him out of the way with a snort.
"You are to address me as Aaliyah or lady." She sashayed off down
the corridor that ran around the large center room. Kel matched her
steps easily, and she resisted the urge to shove him into the nearest
wall.
"And I am to be content with being called 'louse'?"
"Indeed, for that is what you are. Now leave me be. Mother
*promised* I could stay awake a few bells longer tonight, and I intend
to enjoy the ball."
"How can you enjoy it when no one will ask you to dance?"
Aaliyah stopped mid-step, and Kel turned to face her.
"I...I am not yet old enough to be asked." It was a source of
extreme annoyance to Aaliyah that children were not allowed to
participate in the dancing; it was an even larger annoyance that those
under thirteen were considered children by ... whomever it was that made
the rules. So many rules! The older Aaliyah got, the more rules she was
expected to follow: speak when spoken to, curtsy to any and everyone; it
seemed the list continued on forever. And the worst rules were the ones
that prevented her from doing fun things, like dancing for example. It
wasn't that she didn't know how -- she had learned to dance several
years before. But to not be able to use that knowledge! For another
entire year! It was torture, and Kel knew it.
"Such a pity," Kel said, poking out his lower lip and faking a look
of condolence. Aaliyah glowered at him. Then a smirk crossed her face.
"But *you* are old enough to do the asking. Why are you not
dancing, hmm?"
The young man looked away, suddenly embarrassed. Aaliyah just
couldn't help herself.
"I'd wager none of the ladies would have you." With a grin she
turned on her heel and headed back down the corridor the way she had
come, pleased with having last word.
Or not. With a quick gust of air Kel was by her side again.
"In truth ... none of them catch my eye."
"Straight, because all their eyes look right over your head,"
Aaliyah said with a laugh, patting Kel on the top of his head. He ducked
out of her reach and grumbled, straightening his mussed hair. Aaliyah
rolled her eyes.
The music and noise that had been bouncing around the hall suddenly
quieted, and both children turned to see the duke leading his wife to
the center of the room. The musicians began playing a soft, lilting
tune, and the two began to dance.
"Oh, look ..." Aaliyah whispered, wrapping her arms around the
nearest column and staring wistfully at the rulers of Dargon. "It's so
romantic." They danced together seamlessly, the duke's injury doing
nothing to detract them. Kel looked between Aaliyah's face and the duke
and duchess somewhat suspiciously.
"Have you taken a liking to the duke? He's more than twice your
age, 'liyah," he said, pulling the ends of Aaliyah's hair.
"Really Kel, go play with the page-boys. Your tricks don't amuse
me."
"They used to," grumbled Kel, leaning back against the next pillar.
"Before you turned strange." Aaliyah gave him a once-over, trying to
decide if she was being insulted. Knowing Kel, she very likely was.
"Strange? What does *that* mean?"
The boy shrugged, pretending to be interested in watching the duke
and duchess dance.
"I don't know. You just ... seem different."
Aaliyah smiled, which only served to perplex Kel further.
"Mother says I'm growing up," the girl said rather proudly, pleased
with herself. So much had changed within the last sennight, and she was
feeling all the joys and agonies that come with getting older. For his
part, Kel was going through his own changes, but found it impossible to
believe that a female could experience them as well. The opposite sex
was not something he knew much about, but he was unwilling to ask, so he
chose instead to react to Aaliyah the way he always had: with a sharp
tongue and nagging fingers.
"Certainly, if you think fluttering your eyelashes at royalty makes
you grown." The dance ended with applause, and the discussion was halted
as several people walked between the two children.
"I do not 'flutter my eyelashes' at anyone, Kel," Aaliyah said
angrily, as soon as she was able. "You always see what you wish to see."
She pushed away from her pillar and took off down the hall, hoping he
would get the hint.
"You do it all the time," Kel said as he caught up with her again.
"Honestly, it's the silliest sight in the world. Flouncing around,
pretending to be a lady --" He was cut off as Aaliyah blocked his path.
Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, and she was shaking.
"Make fun of me all you choose to, Kel. What could you know about
growing up? Frightening me like that with that ridiculous dagger? Your
father will not yet let you carry a real weapon, will he? There I was,
expecting to see a guard, or at the very least a common highwayman, and
all I saw was a child with his toy."
"I'm not a child, Aaliyah." His chest swelled with indignation.
"I'm nearly fourteen."
"And such childish behavior, sneaking around the Melrin Ball,
irritating me and frightening decent women out of their wits."
"I didn't scare any *woman*. You'd have to fill your corset
properly before I could do that."
With a shriek of rage and embarrassment that made several nearby
heads turn around, Aaliyah raised her hand and struck Kel smartly
against his left cheek. The skin began to redden instantly, and Aaliyah
was momentarily satisfied with the look of horror and shame that crossed
Kel's face.
"Aaliyah!"
The girl whirled around to see her father, Baron Everard, stepping
toward her. Just a few steps behind stood her mother, with Kel's
parents. Aaliyah stammered, nearly crying with embarrassment. She bobbed
a quick curtsy to her father.
"I'm sorry Father, but Kelrith is no gentleman." She turned and
dashed from the hall, her hand over her mouth. Her father turned on Kel,
but Baroness Everard pulled on his arm.
"I believe it was a misunderstanding, dear."
"That it was," stated Baron Dunlevy sternly, frowning at his son.
"Kelrith, what has happened here?" The boy was speechless with anger,
and after a moment his father began to take notice of the looks being
passed up and down the hall. "Come, my son," he said with a sigh. "I
believe it is time we had a talk." The graying man draped his arm across
Kel's shoulders and led him off into one of the empty side rooms.
"Father, I --" but the man held his hand up.
"Now is not the time for excuses. I have known Aaliyah since her
birth -- she has always been a patient little woman. It takes much to
upset her." He fixed his son with a hard stare. "So for whatever reason
she chose to strike you ... it must have been well deserved." Kel opened
his mouth to speak, and then shut it, nodding his head.
"Such an action on her part brings question to your honor,
Kelrith," the man continued, sitting on a windowsill.
"I didn't mean --"
"It does not matter what you intended, son. What matters is that,
were you a noble with full responsibilities, there would be people out
there questioning your ability to respect others. You are becoming much
too old to engage in physical disagreements."
"But a knight does, Father, and they are full grown men."
Kel's father smiled.
"Aye son, that may be true, but those disagreements are carried out
within a very specific set of rules, the main one being honor. And they
also generally do not end with a knight having one reddened cheek."
Kel's lip twisted into a slight grimace as he pressed his fingers gently
on his sore cheek. The elder man hid another smile.
"And just as a knight has honor, as a duke or baron or other
nobleman has honor, women have their own as well."
"They do?"
"Certainly. And while some of them protect that honor with a sword
and shield atop a horse, others are certainly encouraged to protect it
with modesty, their words ... and the occasional use of their hand to
remind an impertinent speaker of how valuable their honor is."
"So ... by insulting Aaliyah, I have not only impugned my own
honor, but ... hers as well?" Kel asked hesitantly, somewhat confused by
the lesson.
"I believe so, son. And of course you know the way to repair such
damage?"
Kel nodded with a sigh.
"I do. I must find Aaliyah and apologize to her."
"Straight," responded the baron kindly, ruffling Kel's hair.
"You're growing into a man before my very eyes, boy. I shall have to
place a brick on your head soon."
"That did not work with you, and it certainly shall not work with
your son," came a laughing voice from the entry. Both men looked up to
see Baroness Dunlevy. The baron smiled at her, and Kel looked back and
forth between his parents' faces. His eyebrows scrunched together for a
moment, and then he smiled.
"It would take a whole mountain of bricks to stunt my growth,
Mother -- I intend to be as tall as the duke tomorrow." He turned back
to his father. "Thank you, sir. I must return honor to its rightful
place." Baron Dunlevy nodded, and after kissing his mother's cheek Kel
took off in search of Aaliyah.
He found her out on one of the balconies that led off from the
great hall. The stars were out in all their glory, sparkling like
diamonds, their beauty made all the sharper by the sudden cold bite in
the air. The ball was still in full swing inside, and the warm glow from
the fires spilled out the windows and onto Aaliyah's dress, which Kel
had only just now noticed fit her figure well.
As Aaliyah turned to face him, Kel pulled his arm into his sleeve
and waved the excess like a flag.
"I come under peaceable terms. Cease fire," he said.
"I shan't hit you again, Kel," Aaliyah finally said, becoming
completely fascinated with the stones that created the balcony's rail.
"My sincerest apologies. It was uncalled for." Kel shoved his arm back
into his sleeve and rushed toward Aaliyah, grabbing onto her arm.
"No, don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault. I ... antagonized you,
and my punishment was deserved. I'm so sorry, 'liyah." Aaliyah pulled
her arm from his grasp and scooted further away. Kel leaned over the
railing, also contemplating the stones.
"It's just that ... you grew up overnight. Today you called me a
child and told me to go play with the pageboys, but yesterday you would
have been down in the kitchens with me. I don't like when you act a
lady," he said, suddenly sullen. "You act like an idiot, tossing your
hair and always checking your skirts for dirt. I liked you before."
Aaliyah inspected her fingernails, then sighed and looked up at
Kel.
"I liked me before too. And I wish that I could wake up tomorrow
and be how I was before, but I don't think I can. Mother said ... she
said that I'm ... becoming a woman now ..." She blushed, but continued
on, "and in truth I believe her. It's all so confusing!" she said with a
feminine growl, and Kel smiled at her.
"No more confusing than the talk my father just gave me."
"Oh no, he didn't --"
"No, he just gave me a ... lesson of sorts. An important one, I
think. Feel free to hit me whenever you think I am not being
respectful."
Aaliyah stepped forward, hugging him before she quite knew what she
was doing.
"Oh, but I didn't want to hit you! I was just so mad, and you were
bothering me, and I was trying to enjoy the ball! I didn't hurt you, did
I?" She grabbed his chin in her hand and tilted his face so that the
light from the windows landed on his cheek. Kel smirked, even though in
truth his cheek was a bit sore. It might even have a bruise by morning.
"'Liyah," he said indulgently, "You couldn't hurt me even if you
tried."
Her hand, which had been sliding across his cheek checking for a
bump, stilled. Their eyes locked for several moments.
"I ... um ... I'll remember that. For next time," she finally
stuttered out, moving her hand from Kel's face and scooting away.
"Please do," Kel muttered quietly, resisting the urge to press his
hand to his cheek.
There was suddenly a flurry of activity within the hall as the last
few songs of the evening were announced. After shuffling from foot to
foot for a moment, Kel cleared his throat.
"Would you do me the honor of this dance ... lady?" He held out his
hand to Aaliyah, who was momentarily dumbstruck.
"I ... I cannot, I am not ..."
Kel grabbed her hand and pulled until she stood in front of him.
"We are not in the great hall, therefore we are not actually a part
of the celebration. I say we dance, and never mind the rules." He held
out his hand. After a few moments of hesitation she slipped her hand
into his, and the dance began. Fortunately many of the halls' windows
were open, and the music filtered out clearly onto the balcony. The
final tunes were always lively ones, and the pair enjoyed it to the
fullest, performing the turns with grace and laughing at each other's
missed steps.
What they did not see, however, was the small group of four that
stood just inside, watching them dance.
"I just don't know, my friends," Baroness Everard said, biting her
thumbnail. "Perhaps they are too young."
"My darling, they are not even aware of the arrangement," smiled
her husband, taking her hand in his.
"She is not patient enough yet," continued the baroness.
"On the contrary," Baron Dunlevy said, "she has the patience of a
saint. It is our boy who still has some growing yet to do."
"In a few years' time it will be all we can do to keep them apart,"
laughed Baroness Dunlevy, hugging her friend's waist while
simultaneously making sure that neither of their dresses was wrinkled.
"Right now it is merely a challenge to keep them from knocking each
other senseless!" chuckled Aaliyah's father. A fanfare sounded from the
hall behind them.
"It would appear that dessert is served," said Kel's father, a
hungry look in his eye. His wife patted his somewhat generous stomach.
"To it, then, friends!" she cried, as the musicians once again
struck up.
"Let them be, love," Baron Everard whispered into his wife's ear.
"There is time aplenty for such things." Gently he led his wife back
into the celebration. Outside on the balcony the two young people
continued to dance.
========================================================================
