She looked out down at the Lunar camp and saw it stirring. She shook her head. Almost time for the daily entertainment she thought. Sure enough, down there by the Lunar middens she could see the Esvulari tents. And there was Sir Estes coming out of his tent as dependable as the dawn itself, well when he was well enough to fight that was, his loyal squire trailing him with his weapons. Soon he would ride up to the great staircase and bellow out his daily challenge to Broyan. Who would they send this time? Broyan couldn't go, he was the king, he'd send a champion again. Last time Leika the Vingan had gone, bounding down the hillside, her red hair like a beacon against the grey stone. All she had carried was a pair of javelins and a shield. It had been embarrassing. It wasn't that Sir Estes was a pathetic fighter, his fame as a jouster was far flung. But he had been no match for the laughing Vingan. She had danced and leapt around him, pricking him and his horse with her javelin over and over enraging him until he lost his temper and she had ended the fight. Arianrhod shook her head again. She hadn't seen the blow. Both sides had stood there laughing and jeering at him and this had just made it worse. But suddenly Leika had taken pity and ended it. She did something and Estes hit the ground and she had saluted him and bound back up the hillside. The worst had been the trickster though. He had beaten Estes with a bladder and a pointed stick. No one faulted Estes for that one! Well, actually she was sure that they did blame him for accepting the challenge in the first place as the trickster had used magic to win.
Arianrhod sighed again and her hands flexed unconsciously. At least Leika can do something! She wished that she could do something! Maybe she should take up the offer from the Vingans to take up weapon training? Broyan had forbidden it but she'd toss his "No one can force you to do anything" back in his face if she choose. The Vingans offered her pity but it beat Broyan's absentminded affection. She remembered her dreams as well. In them the Moon had loomed ever larger and she felt like some kind of offer was being made. That some sort of path awaited her if she choose to take it. There was acceptance there. And what about the sea? She had always loved the sea and she could hear something calling to her from deep within the tor like the sea had called her when she was a child. That was another offer. But which path should she take? Which was the right choice?
Oliver
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