Jost one side of him and me the other!
Riv eyed Vald with a frown; there was a big grin on her friend’s face. She was pleased for him, or more accurately, had been pleased for him. But seeing him now, hearing him talking of the White-Wings as if he was a veteran of a hundred missions, all puffed up with his own self-importance, she found herself grinding her teeth.
‘You’ll do,’ Vald said, seeing Riv watching him. ‘Some wine over here.’ He grinned straight at her. Riv curled a lip and looked purposely away.
‘Hey, Fledgling Riv,’ Vald called out, using her official and never-used title.
Riv felt her limbs tense.
Just ignore him. He’s in his cups, is enjoying the fulfilment of his dream, to become one of the White-Wings. Let him have this moment.
‘Do your job,’ Vald finished.
Riv spun on her heel and marched straight towards him. Vald was sloshing the dregs of his cup at her, the wide grin still stretched across his face, though with each step she took closer to him the smile seemed to wither a little.
Riv stood over him.
‘Your cup,’ she said, shaking her wine skin.
Vald’s smile returned and he held his cup out for her.
Riv unstoppered the skin and poured the wine over Vald’s head.
Laughter rippled along the bench, as well as a warning cry or two. Someone was calling her name. Riv heard it as if through fog.
‘I’ll not be mocked and treated like a slave by anyone, least of all you, you fat pig,’ she snarled. ‘Want some wine? Pour it yourself.’
He leaped up, spluttering, and pushed Riv in the chest. Vald was as wide as he was tall, and strong as a bull, but Riv was ready for it, had sparred with him many times. She stepped to the left, slapped his hands away and kicked out at him. She must have connected with his stones, because he turned purple and dropped to his knees, hands clutched over his groin, gurgled curses foaming from his mouth. He tried to rise, but didn’t quite have the strength for it, instead staggering into Riv, his bulk sending her stumbling back. Her heel hit something and she began to fall, with a moment of perfect clarity knew that they were both headed for the fire-pit where a deer’s carcass was turning above the flames, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Then she was being yanked by the collar, dragged upwards, a great blast of air beating about her. The flames in the pit hissed and crackled, leaping high.
Riv found herself suspended in the air, Kol’s fist bunched in her cloak, feet dangling. Vald hung suspended from Kol’s other hand.
Now that is an impressive feat of strength, knowing Vald’s bulk.
‘We’ve enemies enough to fight, without starting on one another,’ Kol said, throwing them both to the ground. He looked from Riv to Vald, then shook his head.
‘You should eat something,’ he said to Riv. ‘Aphra, you’ve kept the fledglings waiting on us too long – they’re starving on their feet. And hunger frays tempers, you know. And you,’ he said, looking to Vald, who was grunting under the weight of his bulk as he struggled to one knee. ‘Perhaps you should consider exercising the humility and honour that befits a White-Wing.’
Vald wobbled to his feet.
‘And maybe try eating a little less.’
Laughter rippled around the room, Kol joining in at his own joke.
Riv avoided looking at her sister, knowing the stern glare she’d receive, and made her way to the food bench.
‘My thanks,’ Riv said to Kol as she sat at the table with a bowl of hot venison stew, fried onions and mushrooms bobbing in the fat-glistening gravy.
Kol drank from his wine cup, only to find it empty and Riv leaned close to fill it for him. He reached out to take the wine skin from her. As he did so, his hand closed around Riv’s, big and warm, heat pulsing from it. Riv’s instinct was to jerk her hand away, but she resisted, instead looked at him. The ghost of a smile twitched his lips, his eyes sparkling with mirth, and he winked at her, a flicker in the firelight.
‘You’re welcome,’ he said.
Then his hand was gone and he was taking the wine skin and pouring his cup full. Riv went back to her venison stew, not sure what exactly had just happened.
Riv murmured a command and dug her heels into her mount, moving from canter to gallop in the space of a