Soar

Chapter 11

"There. There is good."

"Right."

The noise of logs settling and fire crackling brought me awake. I kept my eyes closed. Had there been voices? I could see the light of the fire through my eyelids.

"Hi, not so close!" a male voice exclaimed. "Try that again, you-"

"Gentleman, really," a softer voice interrupted. "Did you learn nothing about manners at that castle? I thought surely that would be the making of you."

Several people chuckled.

"Manners? Bah! Who needs 'em?" the first voice returned.

The others echoed his sentiments, renouncing manners and scoffing at titles like "gentleman".

"Will you louts quiet down?" a younger female voice hissed. "Do you want to wake her, hey?"

The man replied, "If she has slept through everything else, I doubt some dinner preparations can wake her. I said watch it, you undergrown-"

"'Undergrown'?" a new voice repeated.

"You heard me."

"I oughta-"

"Just try!"

Grunts and scuffling followed. In a moment, several voices were calling out with cheers and encouragement. I peeked open one eye. A fire blazed nearby with a pot hanging over it. Rocks and logs had been gathered for seating. A person sat on one rock, poking at the fire and looking over their shoulder at the commotion, which appeared to be some sort of wrestling match. Beyond the light of the fire, night had fallen.

The person at the fire turned toward me; it was a woman, her brow creased. When she saw me staring back, she jumped.

"Now, you lot!" she called over her shoulder. "Now you've gone and woken her."

The fight ended instantly. Both contenders hopped to their feet and the whole group crowded around my tree. I pulled my cloak tighter around myself and sized them up.

There were seven or eight of them, dressed in a riot of colors: a green scarf there, a yellow cap here, black boots with purple tassels on one, and on another a patchwork cloak in every shade of blue. The only females were the woman at the fire and a girl about my age, though it took me a moment to realize the latter was a girl. She had her hair tucked under her cap and wore trousers.

"Good evening," she said with a brisk nod of her head when my gaze reached her. Sticking out a hand, she said, "Sorry to wake you. The boys never have been keen on manners."

Her glove was ragged and fingerless, showing rough hands like mine. I took it and let her pull me out from under the tree branches. The men moved back.

She had called them "boys", but she was the youngest of the group. Most of the men were clean-shaven and several were bald. For the rest, the general hair color was darker than mine but not quite brown.

"Are you hungry, then?" one asked, revealing a gap in his front teeth. I recognized his voice as the one that had scoffed at manners.

Three or four others repeated the question, and before I had a chance to answer they had moved on to whose turn it was to see to the washing after supper. Several fists flew before the woman at the fire stood.

"Really, the way you carry on! It's embarrassing. Come here, girl, before one of them hits you by mistake."

With the younger girl prodding me from behind, I pushed through the crowd. When I raised my head to meet the woman's gaze, I caught my breath. Her face had been hidden in shadows before, but now I saw there was a mark on her cheek: a blue dragon.