Fawnlum did not hear her.  She was staring, but seeing nothing.  Looking helplessly on, with her strength and skill useless, her thoughts drifted.  Her mind went back, desperately and futilely thinking of the night before, when she could have prevented this.

<*>                                                          <*>                                                      <*>

She called in greeting to Baneck, as she walked up to Morgenferrin’s forge.

He shed his soot-covered apron, and barely wiped his hands on a rag, before they embraced each other in a powerful hug.  With a prolonged kiss, they gradually let go.

He beamed up at her, all sweaty-faced and grimy, with his height of three inches under six feet, and muscular smith’s build, holding her in his strong embrace.

“Hello, darling.”

His eyes immediately went to the soft, scarring wound on her left shoulder.  “You got cut there?”

“Mother gave me that.  Just practice swords, you know.  Nepta fixed it for me.”

“Can’t you even come home without getting into a fight with her?”

“I didn’t start it!” she said in her defense.  “I parted with the girls when we got back to town, and reported our mission to Commander Solross.  He met me in the training circle, just to gauge my progress.

“I told Mother how he hailed me as the victor, two out of two, in front of the other field commanders.  With my prowess, my upcoming graduation would be just a formality, so she should give me my independence now.”

“And what did she say?”

“She was stubborn.  The training circle behind their house saw use again.  My father officiated until it became too dark.”

“Who won?”

“It was a draw.”

“Then Mikhail owes me twelve silver.”

“Aw.”  She stroked his cheek and arm.  “I wish everyone supported me like you, luv.  I could have strangled Sienna.  She drummed up the odds against me.”

She looked at him hesitantly.

“Is there something else?” he asked.

“When I joined the girls at the tavern, Mikhail approached us with an offer.  A foreign diviner claimed to have knowledge about Felldrake.  He would give it for half-price, if Mikhail could beat his bodyguard.”

“So, did you fight him?”

“Of course not.  Sienna did, after getting some extra gold wagered on the fight itself.  She beat him in slightly less than two minutes.”

“But,” she continued, becoming more serious, “he did tell us, Felldrake is coming to the Festival tomorrow. “

“Every mystic and hood-winker has been trying to sell us a yarn, for the whole year he’s threatened us,” Baneck said, with disgust.

“I can’t believe you’d take his words seriously.  If they were from the other land, odds are they were run out of there, just in time to join the crowd coming to our festival.”

“I have a feeling,” she told him somberly, “that there is something to what he said.  There was sorrow about him.”

“So what?  Did he say he and his fellows would not show up?”

“No.  He said they’d be there.

“But I’m uncomfortable with the thought of turning my back on his prediction.”

She put her hands on his shoulders.  “Meet me at the rocks under the trees tomorrow morning, will you?”

Baneck looked at her, and his eyes came alive with a subtle burning.  “You think there’s going to be trouble, so you want me safe by your side?”

She rolled her eyes.  “It’s not like that.  I just have an uneasy feeling.”

“I don’t need a protector.”

Before she could respond, he quickly added, “But, if it will make you feel better, I’ll see you there.”

He was looking right at her.  He kept looking her in the eye, waiting, and she saw no upset.  Fawnlum was quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say.  She had expected more of an argument.  Ever since Saraty had refused to approve their engagement, Baneck had nursed a growing need, despite his patient nature, to prove something.

Of course, he knew basic combat.  All Coastals did.  But, as Saraty was judging him for his non-warrior profession, he had taken even little comments about his lack of fighting ability with a bad air.

He had been particularly calm.  But she did not question his behavior.  She was glad to have one meeting that did not lead to a quarrel that evening.

<*>                                                          <*>                                                      <*>

She saw the scene in her mind’s eye.  He had not been looking at her in agreement; but studying her to see how she reacted.  He had been making sure she believed him, and she had fallen for it!

Her weak flash of anger was quickly muted, as Saraty’s shout jolted her out of her memory.

“Fawnlum!  Do you agree?”

She locked eyes with Saraty again, then glanced at Sienna.

“Yes!” she shouted.

They kept their eyes on each other for a second longer.  Fawnlum blinked and discovered tears.  But more importantly, she saw something in her mother’s eyes, even at this distance.  An extra glare under her brow, or an extra cue – – Saraty made one subtle but distinct little motion, as if she was not done speaking, even though she looked away.

“Then,” Saraty shouted to Baneck and Felldrake, “Let you begin.”

To Baneck she called, “And may Diergon give you victory!”

The crowd gave a loud cheer of support, as Baneck again marched toward his foe.

Felldrake crouched.  His massive tail swished.