Time

By the time they reached the Seat, and Commander Eshenesra had handed off his horse to be tended, Ianthe had managed to run a damp cloth over Vaeri’s face and ears, and pull a clean dress over her head. She was still clutching her wooden sword as she came out with her aunt to greet her father at the great door.

 

He hugged his sister and kissed her cheek, “Ianthe, you look well.”

 

“You look thinner, Eremur.” She touched his face and turned his head as if inspecting a child that had come in from playing too long in the dirt. “To the baths with you. Dinner will hold until you’re finished.” She stepped back and looked at Vaeri expectantly.

 

Vaeri sighed and stepped forward bending her knees sharply, bobbing gracelessly, and offering a perfunctory tilt of her head before grabbing her father’s hand and trying to drag him along behind.

 

He pulled her back, crouching to squeeze her tightly before he said, “Once more, properly, Vaeri.”

 

She sighed and straightened, the annoyed look on her face reminded him strongly of her uncle Tanric, and he gave her a disapproving look. Vaeri wilted slightly under his disapproval and gave her best most respectful obeisance, bending her knees carefully and inclining her head. The wooden sword spoiled the effect but she almost managed to seem like a little lady.

 

The Commander smiled warmly and hugged her close again, “Much better. That was fit for your grandfather’s court.” He stood and grinned down at her, “Would you be so kind, Lady Vaeri, as to show me to the baths? It’s been so long since I’ve been here I fear might get lost.”

 

Vaeri tilted her chin up, “I was trying, we’re having hirschbratn and I’m hungry!”

 

He laughed and shook his head letting her drag him along. At the baths he stood her outside the door and asked her what she’d been learning while he was away and listened happily as she chattered about dancing and etiquette, fighting and working in uncle Bulol’s shop. He could hear the excitement in her voice as she said she had a surprise for him, she was going to finish it tomorrow.

 

He waited to rise from the bath until after Ianthe brought him clothes to put on. As she brought them she also inspected his ears, chiding him for washing as poorly as his daughter. Vaeri giggled outside the door.

 

All through dinner Eremur kept her talking. Hearing his daughter say she wanted to become a soldier like him was as terrifying as it was warming. Her grandfather would never allow it, for which he was profoundly grateful, but her list of the boys in Redreath she could knock down was almost impressive. He looked to Bulol who grinned and shrugged.

 

“There’s more to soldiery than fighting, little Vaeri. Perhaps you should help me clean my armour before bed?” He teased gently. The way her face lit up made him laugh. “Only a child thinks that’s a reward.”

 

“You may stay up until all hours Eremur, but Vaeri goes to bed after her bath, otherwise she’s surly during her morning etiquette lessons.” Ianthe frowned.

 

“My first night home, she may stay up with me if she wishes to, sister heart. Her lessons can be cancelled for tomorrow if necessary. I want to spend time with my daughter.” The Commander tried to keep his tone pleasant but he lacked his wife’s skill. His anger at the attempt to override him again in front of his child showed.

 

Ianthe looked shocked and inclined her head silently, rising to help the staff clear away the dishes. Bulol’s jaw clenched and he rose to help his wife wordlessly, tenderly stroking her back as he passed behind her.

 

Vaeri looked uncertainly after her aunt and uncle, and back at her father questioningly. “Do you want to help me with my armour tonight, Vaeri?” He asked quietly.

 

She looked to her retreating aunt hesitantly before answering, “Yes, pappa. Are you sure?”

 

He smiled, “I am, if you want to spend the time with me.”

 

She sprang from her chair and ran over to his, hugging him tightly before trying to drag him out of it. “Before she comes back! C’mon!” Her conspiratorial whisper made her father laugh as he followed.

 

The Commander watched her nose wrinkle at the smell of the rag he handed her to start cleaning the maille shirt. He showed her how to clean the oil from it thoroughly with a rag of his own and watched with amusement as she set about the task with determination. Her blue eyes were focused and her mouth was set. He let her work until she began to yawn. It took a bit longer than he had expected but not much more.

 

He tried to take the shirt from her with a smile and sat back in surprised amusement as she pulled it back and plaintively said, “You said I could do it!”

 

“You’re not tired yet, Vaeri? I can finish this part. It still needs to be oiled.” He grinned as she stifled a yawn and shook her head emphatically.

 

“I’m not tired! I can do all of it!” She was insistent.

 

“May I help? Just a little?” He grinned at her surly skeptical expression. “Come here.” He pulled her into his lap with the shirt and began to tell her about all of the things a soldier has to take care of, his armour, his weapons, describing their care in a soft voice. He followed with walking and riding, the waiting, and being far from home and family. By the time he looked down she was asleep with the rag and shirt still gripped loosely in her hands. He gently pulled them away and put them aside choosing to sit holding her just awhile longer.

 

When Ianthe finally peeked in sometime later he was still there with Vaeri, holding her close and looking content. When he saw her he smiled apologetically.

 

“I’m sorry, Ianthe. I-” Eremur stopped as she waved her hand.

 

“No. She is,” she gestured, “your daughter.”

 

“You spoke to Bulol.” He smiled grimly. “I should thank you both for doing so well with my Vaeri.” He bent his head and kissed her flaxen hair, “She is all I have.”

 

Ianthe sighed. “Not all brother.”

 

She came in and stroked Eremur’s brown hair. “Should I have Bulol take her bed?”

 

“No. Not yet. She’s grown too much since the last time I did this.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

 

“You haven’t finished cleaning your armour.” She picked up the shirt and rag.

 

Eremur laughed softly. “She wouldn’t let me help. You should have seen her determined little face.”

 

Ianthe looked at him with a knowing smile. “I’ve seen it. It makes her look like you.” She sighed and looked at the maille shirt in her hands, “What needs to be done?”

 

“I’ll do it later, Ianthe. Go on to bed. Give Bulol my apologies for my crossness.” He smiled and shifted Vaeri slightly in his arms.

 

Bulol spoke from the doorway. “Gebst mi de maille, mak ees.” The Meazyr smiled and took the shirt from his wife, he started to finish cleaning it, preparing it to be oiled as they sat and talked quietly. It was the wee hours of the morning before Eremur was willing to put Vaeri into her bed. Ianthe and Bulol had stayed up until the shirt was finished and dried and then oiled with meaza tree oil.

 

He was sleeping deep and peaceful in his own bed when Vaeri came bounding in and bounced onto the bed with what seemed to be more elbows and knees than a single child could possibly possess.

 

Eremur laughed and groaned. “I thought you had lessons in the morning?”

 

“Aunt Ianthe says I’m all yours until after lunch. She said to tell you she gave me breakfast and there’s some for you if you come down.” Vaeri sat up and looked down at him expectantly. “Can we go riding?”

 

He yawned. “Come here, little Vaeri.” He hugged her tight as she curled up next to him and he stroked the fan of her ear gently. “Why don’t I tell you a story instead.”

Author's Note

hirschbratn - venison roast
“Gebst mi de maille, mak ees.” - Give me the maille, I'll do it.