Barbarian

Chapter XII

“I’d love to.” I know I should feel a little more apprehensive but a smile can’t help but grace my face. This awkward Garrick pulls just a little too hard on my heart strings. 

He returns the grin and his whole demeanor changes. His shoulders relax and his stance deflates a little. Crinkles edge the sides of his eyes and the lines etched in his forehead smoothen out. He holds out his arm for me to take, which I do. My hand nestled into the crook of his elbow, we turn and head for the village centre. 

With the sun almost set, we don’t have much time. Although my sisters wouldn’t worry too much, it has been a nightly ritual for us to brush each other’s hair before bed. They know I never miss it. Dalla and Ailis have been kept occupied the past few days. 

Ailis with Brogan, following him around as he trains and while he patrols. The only time she is away from him, is when he is off to hunt and at night. But that is only because it is not allowed. Women cannot hunt and are forbidden from entering the barracks. Brogan is ever the gentleman with her even after suffering her chattering for days on end. Anyone would get at least a little annoyed with her constant prattling. 

Dalla has taken a liking to Callen and he to her. By the way he casts fatherly smiles on her each time they pass each other, I know that he’d be the happiest with her marrying Brogan. But Ailis won’t go down with a fight. Yesterday, she realized this and has been doubling her efforts to impress Brogan. Dalla, on the other hand, is completely oblivious. While not intentionally avoided Brogan, she doesn’t seek him out. I can tell its difficult for her. While she doesn’t want to stay here alone, it’s obvious that she admires him. But with Ailis always around, I wonder if Dalla realizes that Brogan has noticed her as well. Every time they are in the same vicinity, Brogan always watches her, like a dog watching for his master. I’d call it pathetic if it wasn’t so adorable. 

From the village centre, Garrick leads me down a small adjoining road that winds northwest, twisting and turning haphazardly through the homes. I stay close to him as the eyes of crowds follow me. I can’t read their expressions but their open gawking send uncomfortable shivers down my spine. I duck my flushed face but Garrick ignores them and rolls his eyes when I catch his gaze. I grin in spite of myself and decide not to let anything bring me down. Straightening up, I spring back into stride with Garrick. I smirk the next time I feel prying eyes on my back.

We soon turn onto another road, this one long, straight and wide. It is lined with workshops and shoppes, many of which are closed for the day or in the process of being closed. However, through the creaking quiet, a clear ringing sounds from the far end of the quiet street where the dirt road ends and the green fields begin. 

Garrick pulls me along until we reach the farthest building on the left where an older man stands, his hand gripping a hammer and pounding a sheet of metal. He looks up from his work when our shadows cast over his work, his face red from the large fire nearby.

“Garrick,” he says, “What brings you here?” He takes a good long look at my uncomfortable expression before looking back at his son accusingly, “Is she carrying your child?”

Garrick’s eyes shoot wide open and words seem to fail him as his mouth drops open and only stuttering comes forth.

“No, sir.” I protest, quickly curtsying to the older man, “I carry no child. I’m only a friend of your son’s.”