The Thorian Sagas. 1. The Trader.

They left his dog in their room to guard their things as he buckled on his sword and led her down into the taproom, which immediately fell silent as they entered.

They did not often see a young woman in here, but she was with Stoker, so they knew who and what she had to be. Everyone seemed to know.

She was like a child seeing strange things for the first time, never having seen ‘men’ like these before… only women.

They talked as they ate, which did not usually happen with any tribute; but with only one of them…?

The protocol had to be changed.

“Those men are looking at me. If they are men.”

“They are men. And, yes, they are looking at you. There are usually at least two of you with me in any of these first stages, and I sit apart from you while you eat. They are staring because they see so few women like you.”

She did not understand.

“Their own women work as hard as they do, rivalling them in strength and temperament. They are unlike the women in the cities where the women are relatively delicate and are well known for their beauty.”

He thought her beautiful! And he was watching her eat, noticing everything about her, just as she noticed everything about him.

“But they do not speak. They are whispering. And their conversation is about me.” She knew that much.

“It is death for them to try to approach you or speak with you.”

“Why?”

Because you are under my protection.”

That again.

“And you would kill them?”

She had detected that thought rolling around in his head?

“If I am placed in that position, I will. I would be obliged to, and they know it, even though some of them are my friends.”

“Oh.” She digested that.

“I have not seen any persons like them before, other than our trader; or any like you.”

“I expect not. Some of them are Yunks. They trade with you, and there are a few Thorians.”

That startled her.

“Thorians? Are they like you, or are they different? I heard that you were a Thorian, but I was not sure I believed it. I was terrified of meeting you at first. All of the women in my city are terrified of them. But you are not like that. You are gentle and soft spoken, and I never heard that of them.”

“It would never do, if others found that out about us. It is better if we present a front of being cruel and warlike, unmoved by kindness. We observe, rather than speak. It makes others cautious how they deal with us.”

She accepted that explanation, though she knew that much of what she’d heard about them had to be true.

“Which ones are Thorians? Please point them out.”

He laughed.

“There is one, over there. They all have short hair.”

“Like yours?”

“Just like mine.”

“He is handsome too, I suppose, like you, but they do not seem to be as gentle and as kind as you are, and when they look at me, they seem to be glaring at me. Not, like you. Your eyes are kind when you look at me.”

He had never blushed before, but he did now.

She noticed too much.

“That is because they feel as responsible for you as I am, and are assessing my ability to protect you, and they are deeply envious. If I seem too weak....”

He drank some of the beer that was brought to him.

“If I were not here, they also would give their lives to protect you from harm. We are all, your protectors.”

She did not understand that.

“Why? They do not know me?”

“They know 'of' you. You are a tribute. There is little that is more valuable in this life to them. You are their hope, their future.”

She did not understand that either, reaching over to take a drink of his beer as she thought about it.

“We make a beer like this, but it is not so strong a flavor. This must have more hops in it than we use.”

He had said many things to pique her curiosity.

“May I know your name?”

“I am called, Stoker.”

“Is that all?”

“Stoker will do.”

She continued to chew at the meat on her plate as she drank more of his beer.

“You appear as I was led to believe you would look, for a Thorian, but your manners and gentleness are not what I expected.

“You were also kind to me. You have never been anything else with me. You made sure that I was warm, and you tried to calm my fears, and you helped calm my mother. I sense her calmness even now, but I don’t understand how I can feel that.”

He tried to explain without going into too much detail.

“She was upset to see you leave, and she needed comforting. She knows about you, even now, as you say. I gave her a claw, just like that one that I gave you. It will help you both; bring you together. I hope you may believe that you have no need ever to be afraid again.”

“I think I am beginning to believe that. It is nice to feel, and to be protected.”

He told her more. “In Thorian society, it is the women who are the powerful ones. They rule us; the men, but not in the way you might think. We defer to gentleness, but we also know how to protect those we love.”

She moved closer to him. and took his hand, something else that was not usual, but he had started that, to lead her to that carriage.

She wanted to ask about love. It was a word with many meanings. She had read of it, and knew of that feeling for her mother, but he suggested that it also existed between the males and the females of his society.

“Thank you, Stoker, and my name is Erianne, as you know. And I do feel safe with you.”

“You are... safe with me. No tribute has ever been lost or harmed ever before, for any reason, and it must never happen.”

“Why do they… why do you have such short hair?”

“So that we can wear a helmet to protect our heads.”

“You, wear a helmet?”

“When needed. In combat.”

“How did you get those scars if you were wearing a helmet? I am sorry to be asking so many questions but there is so much I need to know.”

He was amused by it all.

“The scars are from various animals who intended to add me to their menu, rather than being added to mine.”

She laughed at that; a laugh like tinkling glass beads, or wind chimes in a gentle breeze.

“They are mostly from wild pigs, bison, wolves… and bears.”

“I have never seen any of those animals other than in books, though I have eaten wild pig when the trader brings it.”

She hesitated. “I am asking a lot of questions.”

“I do not mind.”

He liked to listen to her voice.

She continued eating.

“I have never tasted this kind of meat before. What is it?”

“It is the meat of a Mountain Bear, the meat of the animal of the hide you were wrapped in, and of my coat. Another fur like it, will make your bed this evening. You also wear a bear claw to protect you.”

She paused. Bears seemed to be everywhere in his society.

“And I also have you to protect me.” There was no arguing with the simplicity of that statement and all that was implied in it.

“It is a strange meat, nothing like beef, but stronger tasting, and very filling. I think I could get used to it.”

She should. She would be eating a lot of it.

She yawned. It was his cue.

“We should retire.”

He stood up with her, sensing many eyes upon them both again as they left that room with her arm upon his. He felt the waves of envy following them up the stairs.

They sat by the fire in their room, much as he had sat close to that Fennian fire each time he had been there, over the last year.

There was another drink waiting for him.

“What is that other that you are drinking?”

“Fennian wine.” He held it up, where it glowed red in the firelight.

“I was not sure they would have it here.”

“I have heard of it, but never had any. May I have some?”

He passed his cup over to her and watched her sip at it.

She considered. “I have definitely never had this before. It is very good.”

“It is the best. It will help you sleep.”

She yawned again.

“Where will I sleep?

“By the fire, there.” He pointed.

“And where will you be?”

“Somewhere very close, where you can see me.” And where he could see her.

She stared into the fire. “Stoker? What is to be my fate as a Tribute? No one could tell me, or would tell me.”

He thought for a few moments how to answer her.

“Your future will be for you to choose. I cannot tell you what awaits you, because I do not know that, myself.

“We none of us know our futures, especially not Thorians. There is a different path for all of us. However, I can promise you that your life will never be as it was. Despite what you may have been told, you need fear nothing from this moment forward, and I promise you that you will never be treated unkindly. You will be treated far better than you might ever have believed possible.”

He continued.

“I think you may be surprised over how much power you will have to make your own decisions.”

“I have never been allowed to make any of my own decisions.”

“But you can now.”

She chuckled. “In that case, may I have some more of that wine?”

He passed the cup to her once more. It would help her sleep.

“You say we will pick up others like me in the next city.

“In Weldon. Yes. And then even more, in Sinden.”

“I would still like to ride with you, beside you, not in the carriage with them. I will not know them. If that is permitted.”

“As you are alone and know no one, I will permit it.”

It was his turn now to ask a question.

“What do you do in Dorian? What do you most like to do? What makes you happy?”

She did not need to think long about that.

“To walk along the beach, barefoot, with my toes feeling the sand between them, and the water lapping at my feet. I shall miss that.”

“The inland sea is dangerous.”

“I know. I saw some of the gigantic fish brought ashore in the City, but it is very shallow in the bay where we live so we see only small fish. We paddle in that bay, and when we feel a flat fish moving under our feet, we spear it.”

“You will still be able to do that, walk on the beach and feel the sand on your toes, but in a different place. And you will be able to catch fish too.”

She accepted that.

“What is it that you do, Stoker, apart from guarding and protecting me, and other tributes, in this strange countryside?”

“I am entrusted to do many things. I am… whatever I am required to be.” He had rather not go into that.

“A strange answer, but you are a strange man. I was frightened at first when I saw you, looking so serious, and even angry; angry enough to make that chief councillor tremble with fear… something I have never seen before… but you do not look angry now, and I am not so frightened.”

She looked across at him.

“There is another thing I noticed about you. When I first saw you, both of your eyes were blue. Now, one of them is grey, unless that is a trick of the firelight.”

It was not a trick.

“And the Thorians trust you to protect me.”

He laughed. He had a pleasing laugh to her, just as her laughter and speech pleased him.

“Which it seems that they do... trust you... but then you are one of them. I will soon get used to that thought.”

After she had laid down to rest, she saw him place his weapons where he could get to them easily, and then watched him undress in the fire’s glow, and begin to bathe in the hot water that had been brought in for him.

She had never seen a proper man do anything like this before. Never one with so many battle scars, and one, strange in so many other ways too. Strangely interesting ways. She knew better than to ask.

It was a day of many ‘firsts’ for her.

He washed himself, re-dressed, and laid down only two feet from her, pulling the edge of that bearskin coat over her, and then he lay awake and listened to the wind and the storm outside. She went to sleep very quickly, but the beer and the wine had both been very strong.

From time to time he made up their fire with dried peat, rather than wood. It was slower-burning and did not spark.

His eyes were changing color!

She’d noticed that. Others saw a warning in that change. Maybe others in the taproom had noticed, and that had explained their caution. That time for him was here.

He could not sleep, but lay awake thinking about her, listening to her breathing; striving hard to keep out of her mind, not wanting to trespass, though he had seen that she was willing to let him in at any time. He wanted so much to get into there, but if he did that, then she would also have a pathway back into his mind too, and that must never happen; not the way his thoughts were, concerning her. He might never be able to leave her if he went into there.

When he awoke, going on toward morning, taking over from his dog as guard, he noticed that she was not where he had left her, but was in his arms, snuggled up close to him as though needing his warmth. She should not have done this. But she was here.

If she knew how she affected him…?

He must not move and wake her up.

He kissed her on her forehead and pulled her closer into his embrace.

He could face death for what he was thinking and feeling about her.