Fraul, 29

That night, though Raru had planned to go see Fraul, he found himself moving to find his father at the inn. He thought it might be hard to pick the man in a crowd: he was wrong. The purplish cloak hung on the back of a chair and his father was fully immersed in a card game with six other men. He slid a few coins into the center and showed his cards, and a roar rose up from the folks gathered around the table. Raru smiled. He had come by his gambling habit honestly.

Beckon took the pot, which was not much more than he had bet, and got up to go to the bar. His eyes crossed Raru’s and he grinned, already a little inebriated, and gestured for his son to follow him as he grabbed another pint of ale. Raru was grateful to get out of the bar, and stepped quickly through the crowd to meet his father on the side porch. The stars were clear out there.

“So,” Beckon said, clapping him on the shoulder, smelling of beer, “You doing well here?”

“Fine,” Raru said.

“Uh-oh,” his father drawled, leaning on the railing. “Is it a woman?”

“Close,” said Raru, smiling to himself. “I…” How much could he tell this man? He started with, “I don’t drink.”

“Good, good,” said Beckon, tipping up the flagon. “Your mother didn’t, either. Should have seen the woman drink.” He laughed, slapping the railing. “She would go from one pint to four in about twenty minutes.”

Raru’s brow creased. “Really?”

“Yes indeed. Yes indeed.” His father dragged a stray stool from beside the wall, his gaze going to a few other men smoking in the night air, and his voice lowered. Raru leaned on his elbows and glanced over to hear him. “One day,” Beckon said, “she told a man a little too much, and he followed her back to me. You remember what I do, don’t you?”

Raru nodded. He had some memory of it, of artifacts. Beckon nodded, taking a more measured sip of the ale. His eyes were clear. He sighed at the street. “I’ve missed this place, son.”

“It’s a good city,” Raru murmured. He jumped when his father clapped him on the shoulder.

“And that man, Fraul,” he said, grinning. “He’s a delight! I want to speak more to him.”

Raru smiled to himself. “Yes. He was a good captain.” Warm silence fell over them. When the captain looked over again, Beckon was gazing at something in his own palm. Their eyes met and Beckon pressed it into his hand.

“Take good care of it,” he slurred. “Always meant to give it to you. Some’n of yer mother’s, y’know.”

Raru did not show it as he looked. It was a charm, or a talisman, carved of the deepest green. He felt that it had more to it than it showed. He murmured as he looked, “What happened to her?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s out there in the world somewhere,” Beckon sighed, waving the flagon, the ale sloshing. “She and I parted ways.”

“Why?” Raru’s blue eyes flashed. “You left her?”

“No, no.” Beckon wheezed a laugh. “Well, not in a manner of speaking. She didn’t want to come to Oreia with me, but I knew that. I…well, son, I wanted to keep you safe from a lot of things. I hope you forgive me. Your mother sometimes…” He shook his head. “It was scary, for me. You don’t remember, I’m sure. But she was a good fighter, and if she wanted to take you away from me, she would. But…” He huffed, setting the drink down. His eyes were a close shade to his son’s, and just as wolflike. He asked, “Why did you stop? You’re young.”

Raru turned the talisman over in his palm and his throat grew hard. His voice was thick though he tried to hide it by clearing his throat. His father’s mouth creased.

“I hurt people I don’t mean to,” he said. Beckon nodded, bobbing his head.

“So did she,” he said. “That’s why I left. I’m glad I took you with me. I know you didn’t understand. I know you were angry with me. But believe me, son, I couldn’t have left you there in good conscience. She scared me. She was different when she drank. It was like a new person had lodged itself behind her face.”

Raru didn’t want to hear this. He wanted to throw the gem carving away, to pretend like he had never heard any of this. His voice was a little louder and some of the people on the porch glanced over.

“So why did she do it?” he demanded. His father shrugged.

“Pain,” he said. “She exchanged her pain for mine. She numbed it all away, like we all try to do. But you hurt people, when you do that. People y’love. And she loved you, Raru, she loved you fiercely.” His eyes cooled. He paused, drained the flagon.

Raru wiped his nose. Who was he to show emotion in front of this stranger? He regarded himself with disgust. He wanted Fraul. He felt the empty flask in his pocket.

His father creaked off the stool and stretched. “Think I’ll retire,” he said. “It’s good to see you again, boy, really. I have the money to stay a few more days. Find me again tomorrow, if you want.”

Raru nodded. He felt a hand on his shoulder and his father wandered back inside. Raru’s fist opened from around the talisman and he slipped it into his pocket. Then, one hand on the pommel of his sword, he hopped the fence of the porch and walked through the night air.

He knocked hard. There was light within the house. Someone thumped to the door and unlatched it. Fraul opened it and stood in the doorway, looking at him, hiding his relief. Then he stepped aside, just as Raru was thinking he wouldn’t, and went back to the couch.

Raru was silent, going to the kettle. Coffee already-made sloshed in it. Fraul watched him with cool eyes, finally asking, “How’s your father?”

“Well,” Raru grunted. He watched the grounds of coffee sinking to the bottom of his cup and heard Fraul’s soft breath as he eased back onto the couch. He turned slowly, putting the coffee on the table, thoughts of his mother ricocheting around his head.

His eyes flicked to the shutters. He went and closed them. Fraul tensed up, but Raru only knelt before him and put hands softly on his knees.

“I want you…to be able to trust me,” he said. His voice was sober. “I understand that I’ve made mistakes. I wouldn’t trust me, if I was you. If I’m being honest.” He sat back on the ground, looking toward the ceiling, one hand still on the couch. He tried to make his voice lighter. “Did you know my mother…drank like I do?”

Fraul was silent, brow creased. The pain had been coming in waves and he only heard every few words. He blinked hard, trying to follow, saying softly, “I do trust you.”

Raru looked at him. “Are you all right?” he asked, and Fraul blinked. “You’re tired,” he said, seeing. “Get to bed. I’ll…I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He rose and started to go. Fraul watched him, wanting him to stay. He didn’t have the energy to get up and lock the door behind Raru, so he got the blanket and snuggled up on the couch, staring into the dark.

*

The next morning, after drills, Raru came to find him again. Fraul was sitting up on the couch, looking at the door, and he jumped when the younger man knocked.

“Unlatched,” he called softly. Raru shouldered inside and sank down beside Fraul, smelling of sweat and mist. Fraul reached up and touched a matted strand of brown hair, placing it behind his ear. Raru’s skin prickled at the touch.

“You look well,” Fraul murmured. His brow creased, glancing away, trying to remember the night before. “You said…your mother…” he began, looking back and seeing Raru’s face all gentle and frightened.

“Are you all right?” he rasped, shifting closer. “You look like you hurt.”

Fraul wanted to wail to him, to say I do, I do, and collapse into him and beat at his chest. It must have shown in his face. Raru put an arm around him and Fraul’s forehead hit his shoulder. His back complained. His lips shook and he bundled the blanket around his face.

Raru rubbed his back, muttering, “I know.” Fraul shook. He lifted his head, wiping his face. Raru touched his cheeks.

“I have to get back soon,” he murmured. “Come along? Is your chair here?”

“At Heath’s,” Fraul sighed, their faces close. Raru nodded. He would go get it. “Wait,” said Fraul as he rose to leave. “I can’t make it. I want to rest.”

Raru’s brow creased. He nodded. “All right,” he said. Then he smiled. “You’ve never said that to me, sir. Not in all the years since you’ve been back.”

“Said what?”

“That you wanted to rest.” Raru sat back down and, eyes downcast, rubbed his thumbs in circles on Fraul’s knee. “I like it.”

He was right. Fraul huffed a laugh. “Good,” he breathed. “Rest is what I need. Go on without me.”

“Yes, sir.” Raru touched his own brow. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, Captain.” Fraul smiled. Raru bent and kissed him, the lips warm and feather-soft. He straightened and left with an effort, and Fraul watched him with a teary smile and then dropped his head back against the couch.

At lunch Raru went to see his father again. He was taking deep breaths and readying himself. He thumbed his mother’s talisman in his pocket. His father was on the porch with a mug, and saw his son coming. He lifted his hand and called, “Ho, Captain! How goes the day?”

“It goes,” said Raru, not smiling. His father’s eyebrow rose.

“Such solemn words,” he said gravely, nodding. “I wonder what the occasion may be.”

Raru rolled his eyes and went inside. His father met him and jerked his thumb toward the staircase, and the younger man followed the older to his room.

The cloak was across the bed. His common wares were set out on the table–it looked like he had been in the process of tallying them, for indeed there was a piece of paper and a stick of charcoal on the same table. In a little bag beneath the table, the rest of the wares sat.

“I always regretted not teaching you to read,” his father admitted, seeing the captain eye the paper. “My apologies, formally.”

Raru shrugged and answered, “It has never hindered me.”

Beckon smiled, opening his hand toward the chair. “I see you have something on your mind. Tell me.”

Raru took the chair and Beckon sat on the edge of the bed. Raru drew the jade out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands, his eyes on the floor. Then he frowned, rubbing his jaw.

“So,” he said finally. “When you married my mother, did you ask her father?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And what if her father had been dead?”

“Ask her mother.”

“What if her mother had been dead?”

Beckon frowned. “I would say she is an unlucky girl indeed.” Raru’s mouth twisted, thinking. He said finally, “Then…who would you ask?”

“Well, she herself, first. If there is no one to give the blessing…I suppose it wouldn’t matter.”

“But it feels wrong.” Raru leaned back, an ankle over his knee, slipping the talisman into his pocket. “I want to do it right.”

Beckon’s smile was warm and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands dangling. He said low, “I don’t have any good advice for you. But I would say that if she says yes, and you get a priest who’s qualified…well, that’s a marriage.” His eyes sparkled. “And get your old man to meet her first, of course.”

Raru looked away. His father frowned. “Why hide her away?” he pressed gently. “I’m overjoyed for you.”

“Da,” Raru said finally. “You might not be pleased.”

“Try me,” said Beckon, but Raru went to his next thought.

“I’ve heard that in Ilcoceum, they use rings,” he said.

“Why would Ilcoceum custom matter?” his father asked, and understanding dawned on him. Raru didn’t see it come over his face, since he hid it quickly. No wonder he had gotten along so well with Fraul.

“I just thought…it was a nice custom,” Raru said. Beckon nodded several times, gaining time to think, treading carefully.

“Well,” he said, “some Ezurans use rings, too. But here they exchange gifts. You might say these rings are your gifts, and take both customs at once. Since you are Ezuran, after all.”

Raru nodded. His hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes skyward.

“I don’t have time for all this,” he muttered, as if to himself. “I ought to be in camp.”

“No, no, boy,” said Beckon. “These are important things. More than duty and honor and all that. Your own duty exists, too, you know.” He smiled again. “I’m proud, although it doesn’t matter what I think. You’re a captain. You have all these plans. All done without me.” He shook his head and returned to the topic at hand. “Who will you get to officiate?”

“I know two captains who would.” Raru smiled. “I hope.”

“Well, then go about finding your rings. And ask—her.”

“There won’t be a party,” Raru warned.

“No, no, of course not. Captains have not the time for these things, after all.” Beckon smiled. Raru met his gaze, nodded, and then his father held the door for him as they both clomped down the stairs.

*

Raru went to Heath’s that night. He sat at the table and ate his dinner, while Heath scribbled patiently at his notes. Finally, he said low, “Heath.”

“Huh,” said the healer.

“I want to know if you’d do something for me.”

Heath raised an eyebrow at him, pausing in his notes. Raru shifted in discomfort and cleared his throat. He said, “Well, Leonard told me you could marry people.”

“Is that all?” Heath asked, rolling his eyes, returning to his work. “I thought you wanted me to do something serious.”

Raru grinned. “Then you’ll do it?” he asked. Heath nodded. “Thank you.”

He finished eating in silence, smiling to himself as he chewed. He got up and, clapping the other man on the shoulder—Heath lifted his pencil in disgust—Raru made his way to the Bazairi den. Clumsy like an Ezuran, he danced. He took Ashin’s hands and spun him in circles. Raia exchanged a glance with Ashin, and the two of them linked elbows in a clover with Raru. They smoked, and laughed, and at midnight he jogged back to camp.

He would give Fraul rest. He kept his eye out for rings, thinking of the Ilcoceum’le couples he had seen wearing those little gold bands. Some were jeweled. All were delicate, most of them slid onto the same fingers as fighting rings. He wondered if Fraul would have room on his hands for one more. Suddenly Raru’s stomach turned. Would he get one for himself? Would it give them away?

No, no, he thought. One more ring would hardly be noticed on Fraul’s hands. And no Ezuran looked at a ring and thought of marriage. Raru breathed out in relief. He would get to wear it. He wondered what size to make it.

He thought of Raile’s smithy. Jonah Raile, a lieutenant before his time, had worked a forge after his retirement. Raru would find Erica. He would ask.

It felt good to have a mission, he reflected the next day as he found Captain Raile. It kept his mind off the whiskey.

He caught her by the shoulder in the meal tent as she was leaving and he was entering. She paused with a pleasant smile, happy to see him.

“Cap’n,” she said, saluting. He smiled. He felt sober and clear as day. She saw it in his face and said, “Walk with me?”

Soldiers glanced over, seeing the way their heads bent together. Most assumed it was some strange new drill for their companies, or perhaps a bit of strategy for the next sparring match. Erica was always doing such things.

“Your father had a smithy, right?” Raru asked, and she nodded with pride.

“My mother runs it.” Her face cleared. “Hey, was that your father, who came to the camp? Heath said so.”

”Uh-huh,” grunted Raru, and Erica beamed as their paths took them towards the archery range. He went on, “But let’s say I wanted some jewelry made for someone else. Could a smithy do that?”

“Oh, sure, sir,” she said, a bit of her child self peeking through in her eagerness. He smiled as he remembered and bent his head to listen, hands clasped behind his back.

Erica’s hands made wide gestures as she explained how it would be done. “My father often made little ornaments out of gold,” she said. “They could be fixed to the pommel of a sword. You might put a bit of gold filament in the iron. Takes a lot of skill, the metals melt at different temperatures. It’s very expensive.”

Raru’s heart thumped. “How expensive would a ring be?” he asked.

“A ring?” she asked. “For you?”

“My father wants to sell them,” he said. Her face cleared.

“Oh, he’s a merchant?” she asked. To Raru’s relief she did not press, and went on, “A ring would be pretty cheap. The mold is simple. What kind of metal?”

“Oh, Lord, I’d have to ask him,” said Raru, glancing at his hands. “Uh–what do you think?”

“To sell, sir, I’d always say gold. But barring gold, you could go with something like Fraul’s rings. Those are silver, maybe a few bronze.”

Raru frowned. “Would it tarnish, if it was silver?”

“Definitely. If your father wants to sell good jewelry, I’d buy the gold.”

“How much should he sell it for?” Raru asked.

“Well, my mother might have some gold in the back. I bet…I bet there’s some extra. We could find it for you cheap.” Erica counted on her fingers. Then she said, “You might even melt down a few coins. If you had them, of course. But I would sell them for much more than that. Takes a lot of work, you know. And heating the forge.”

“Of course,” he said, smiling, taking heart. He had a few gold pieces stored away somewhere. Their feet turned a wide arc back for the center of camp.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said finally. “Truly. I’ll be commissioning your mother’s services soon. I’m sorry to keep you from your meal.”

She looked a little confused, but saluted. “Any time, sir. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Raru touched his brow and clapped her on the shoulder, seeing her to the meal tent and then wandering back to his lieutenant.

“What was that on, sir?” Wilde asked. Raru grinned and almost winked.

“Just strategizing,” he said dangerously.

Wilde rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I would think you captains didn’t like us.”

“Oh, go eat lunch.” Raru clapped him on the back. He saw Crowe watching and swung his steps around for the general, who was sitting beside the fire with a stick of tobacco.

“Looking cheerful today, Captain,” the general said dryly. Raru saluted and put his feet together.

“I feel well, sir,” he said. “Very well.”

“About time. Your moping was becoming a fixture.”

Raru pulled up a stool and bent with his elbows on his knees, hands dangling the way his father had the day before. He stared into the coals, and his smile faded. What if Fraul said no? What if he had really messed things up between them? What if the other man didn’t want to live with him?

Crowe saw the change in him and murmured, “Take heart, Captain. Whatever it is. I’m sure you make more of it than you need to.”

Raru’s eyes slid to him. “You know less than you say,” he said. Crowe folded his arms, cigarette between his lips, and smiled.

“I know more than I let on,” he murmured, passing the tobacco. “And you are my good friend.”

“Am I?”

“Quite. I hope my lieutenant-general picks someone as committed, when he comes up.”

Raru face warmed. This was a rare compliment, and it made him feel better. He drew on the cigarette and said with a cloud of smoke, “Thanks.”

“Your father still in town?”

“Yes, sir.” Raru knew Crowe would notice his absence, so he said as he passed it back, “I’m commissioning some jewelry for him from Captain Raile’s smithy. He intends to sell it.”

“Ah. Good.” Crowe stood and tossed the butt into the fire. “See to it, then.”

Raru nodded him goodbye, and sat there for more than a few moments longer. He sighed, basking in his own warmth, the summer coming on hot and bright.