Tales of Calth: Isilorbor and Lendes #5

“Come on, get up!” The words, followed by a swift poke to Isilorbor’s all ready pained ribs awoke him sharply from a pleasant dream he was having of a sunset over hills of orange and skies. Another poke, this time it made Isilorbor groan and looked up at Forsion standing over him, his bushy grey eyebrows like that of a frowning owl. “Up, up, up, up, up, UP!” Another harder poke into Isilorbor’s shoulder, he was using a cane, not a walking stick but something that was used to train men in marching in formation. “Okay, okay…!” Isilorbor groaned and slowly pushed the covers from him and slowly sat him. He was almost totally necked, save for a loin cloth and a great many bandages around him. Almost a mouth had past since the attack, and Isilorbor was only just able to walk. Sighing in annoyance, he slowly swung his legs over the bed and a ghost of a smile on Isilorbor’s face at his uncle. “Hail, uncle…What brings you here?” Forsion chuckled lightly and sat next to Isilorbor, resting his cane on his lap. “Top of the morning, my good man! Sorry for the old poking back there.” Isilorbor shrugged slightly, but rubbed his left shoulder in pain, looking at Forsion and nodding at the cane. “Was that really needed?” “Ah, you remember Old Painless, right?” Oh did he remember Old Painless! While training, Forsion carried Old Painless around at his belt, every mistake was beaten out of him with that bloody cane. Isilorbor never asked Forsion where he got it from, but he knew that his father feared Old Painless as much as Isilorbor did. To this respect, Isilordil named a trebuchet after the cane. The silence was deafening to Forsion and he grinned broadly. “I’ve been invited to this dinner party, you know?” Isilorbor was snapped out of his thoughts at once. “Indeed?” He asked with interest. “Indeed! Your old mother and father want me over, even your friends Zelderan and Sabrial are invited too!” Isilorbor smiled widely, his heart light with hope. “That is great news! When will we be sitting down to eat?” “Erm…Tonight at Sunset.” Isilorbor eyes widened largely in panic, his head darting around the room and his voice one of worry. “Tonight?! Last time I woke up, I had days to wait!” Forsion placed a comforting hand on Isilorbor un-poked shoulder, smiling reassuringly. “Don’t worry, old sport! You fell into quite a deep little cat nap, and no one wanted to wake you until, well…Today!” Isilorbor pushed himself from the bed, swinging his legs over it and looked for some clothes, frowning as he could not see any. “Where are my clothes?” He asked Forsion. “Isil, you’re not wearing any tunics to this party!” Forsion declared “Am I going to have to go to this party necked then?” All Isilorbor had was tunics for off duty purposes. “Your mother has sent a suit to be made for you, the most you can do is have a shower or some kind of bath, you stink!” Forsion placed his hand over his mouth and nose to emphasize his last words. Isilorbor stood up, his joints clicking loudly and raised his arm. He sniffed his arm pits and winced slightly at the smell. “Well…I have been resting on my back for a…A month now?” He had lost most since of time while wounded. “Yup!” Forsion’s cheerful manner was never broken. Isilorbor walked slowly towards the bathing room, his going was slow and unsteady. He held onto things as he walked, his knees felt weak and would buckle at any moment. Forsion stepped towards Isilorbor and helped him along, he felt a deep pity for the man he trained. He knew that this wounded Isilorbor’s pride, but something nagged at the back of Forsion’s mind, he seemed to be able to live with it remarkably well. Forsion was invited to the dinner party, in fact, he had invited himself but he knew that Isilordil and Lavinia loved his company; he was to some degree part of the family. He was honoured to be part of the family, and he would not fail them. He helped Isilorbor into the bath room and left him; he took a chair and sat outside taking a beautiful oak pipe and slowly adding some weed to it. Forsion took two small stones and light it, taking slow puffs and took events into being. He would watch Isilorbor, until he healed, Forsion decided. Lendes combed her hair gently, a priceless butterfly comb with wings of silver, ruby, gold and emerald swirled and twisted around it. She loved the comb since she first saw it was a little girl, it was her mothers, and her mothers before that. The comb was a family heirloom, and Lendes prized it above all she owned. She wanted to look her best, her hair straighten almost at once as if by magic. She hummed gently to herself and felt her heart beat faster as she thought about Isilorbor. Lendes was the bath room, the windows at steamed up due to a very hot bath she just had. She was making herself perfect for Isilorbor; she left him a month ago wounded and weak on a bed without so much as a thank you or a kiss. She was wearing a towel wrapped around her chest, and swallowed at the burses Risthir had given her. Lendes would put as much make up on them to cover them up. She had her dress ready for her on the table in the bath room, it was a pure white long dress with golden bindings at the back and golden running along the ends of the dress. Lendes thought it was beautiful, she could hardly wait to put it on and waiting to see Isilorbor’s face when she saw him. Risthir was downstairs eating and drinking, as usual. Lendes did not care, but she was deeply worried about how he was going to act around a family that looked after her for two years. She was chewing her bottom lip with worry, and her thoughts darkened at what Isilorbor would make of her bruises. Maybe Isilorbor would think she deserved her beatings, maybe he would be disgusted at her and never want to see her again. She was shaking at there’s thoughts, until her heart cried out to her that Isilorbor was nothing like Risthir. Isilorbor was a man unlike any other; he would never raise a hand in anger at her, or would find her disgusting in the slightest. She smiled weakly and walked to her makeup, letting the towel drop to her ankles and slowly applying the makeup all over her body. She knew it would take many hours to hide all her bruises, never mind looking beautiful enough for Isilorbor. “Isilordil! Stop it…!” Lavinia giggled and ran her hand behind her husbands head as he kissed her neck from behind. She felt his large warm hands moving slowly over her body and giggled again as he chewed gently on her ear. The barn was empty, tables and chairs sat at both ends waiting to be put into place for the party, the day light was fading and much work was still left to be done. Isilordil and Lavinia had gone into the barn with the intension of putting the tables into place, when Lavinia bent over a table to lift, when her husband was behind her. Now they were wrapped around each other, Lavinia let out a small moan of happiness, her hands all over Isilordil’s. “Please…I’m only a mortal woman, Isilordil!” Isilordil growled deeply into her ear before gently biting it. “Is twenty minutes so much to ask for?” Lavinia let out a small gasp as she felt Isilordil’s hands move down her backside. “Twenty minutes with you and I’ll need two hours to recover…!” She giggled again and her moans were growing. Isilordil took this as a good sign and started to untie Lavinia’s dress. “Please…We have guests coming!” Lavinia moaned gently. “They will not be here for another six hours.” Isilordil answered quickly. “Isilorbor and Forsion are around…” “But they are not here…” “The doors are opened…” “I closed them.” “Someone could walk in…!” “I locked the door…!” “I give up, take me!” Isilordil almost threw Lavinia onto a nearby table and kissed her deeply, her legs wrapped tightly around him and pulled him toward her. She sat up and deepened her kiss, their tongues working in great passion as they slowly begun to take the others clothes off. Until someone behind them cleared their throat loudly. Both husband and wife shot up in an eye blink and saw the head chef, a skinny man with brown skin standing close by with his arms folded across his chest. “Osland…” Lavinia greeted with embracement clear on her voice and face. She pulled up her dress and placed a face of authority back on like a mask, trying to banish her crimson face. “Dinner will be ready in five hours, my lord and lady…” His voice was deep and unimpressed as he turned and walked towards the barn’s kitchen, only then did Isilordil and Lavinia notice the kitchen was flooded with servants and cooks, all of them looking their way. “I will eat you one day, my love…” Lavinia growled darkly, unable to keep a small smile on her face. “I cannot wait…” Isilordil growled back and started to push the tables out into the open barn. Lavinia giggled again and helped her husband; the two laughed and joked, even flirted all the time, their love true and whole for all to see. Night fell, and the party was getting started. The barn was alight with bright candles and fine white rugs were placed down on the floor all over the barn. The tables were set on three sides, two facing each other and one on the top looking over them with a space free for the food to be moved towards them and leave with great ease. The food was cooked to perfection, fit for a kind; some may be so bold to say. Great roasted meat, finely cut chips, potatoes, steamed and cooked vegetables, even a pig was being prepared to be spit roasted so the guests could eat from it at will. The tables were long and draped with emerald table runners that gently touched the floor, with small eagles at the ends and spaced out on the runners themselves. Silver goblets, knives and forks were set out along with the silver plates, wine bottles sat in buckets of ice close by the tables. The house servants were almost fanatical at arranging and dealing with the busy table, checking the food, making the desert, making small swans on the table out of napkins, and placing deep emerald runners on the table. Night fell; the food was quickly brought in and was slowly being placed ready to be served once the guests’ arrived. Great roasted meats, golden chips, cooked and steamed vegetables, bottles of fine wine placed in buckets full of ice to keep it cooled and refreshed. A pig was spit roasted and placed in the middle of the tables, oil being applied to all the foods to make it shine. The tables were set in a three quarter squad, two facing each other while one looked down over the other two, one line was left open so the servants could come to and from to serve more food and wine. They stood close and proud to their food they spent all day making and Osland clapped his hands three times, they broke into groups and grabbed musical internments, some carried flutes, some grabbed large harps and sat in the coroners of the room out of site. The servants waited for the Lord and Lady Ventris to walk down from their master bedroom, and smiled warmly at them as they descended. Isilordil and Lavinia walked arm in arm down the stairs of the barn, Lavinia was wearing a tight, bright red, dress that ended at the knees with golden bindings wrapping gently around her stomach, while two large bands covered her breast and ended at her back in a small gold bow. Isilordil wore a white and gold robe that sat tight and noble on him, gold bands holding the robe to his body and bowed his head at the servants as they did to him and his wife. The barn was made to look massive with all the tables placed in neat rows with one master table right at the top, each table could seat ten people. Ten tables of fine greens, whites and gold’s decorated them. Silver tableware from knives and forks to goblets and candle stands. The servants playing the music kept out of the way to the ends of the barn, keeping their heads bowed until they were called to lift them. Isilordil smiled widely. “Please, my friends, lift you’re heads, there is much still to be done!” He said cheerfully. Him and Lavinia were not meeting Osland’s eye since he had caught them red handed, but his face remained as ever a mask, showing no emotion towards his Lord and Lady. The servants raised their heads and quickly shuffled off to their tasks yet to be finished. Isilordil and Lavinia walked out of the barn arm in arm and slowly down the path towards the Yards gate. The night was cloudless and full of bright winking stars, a full moon and shown itself and cast its white light over the lands of Calth. Shadows were long on the ground, everything that shined danced and sparked in the night, making everything so much more alive. The waited at the gate to greet the guests, as now would be the time they would arrive; they did not have to wait long as two finely dressed people walked towards them. It was a man and a woman, both looked very rich from a distance and Isilordil and Lavinia knew who they were at once. Zelderan wore a suit of navy blue, he almost blended into the night sky like water, saved for his broad smile. At each cuff was two silver anvils as links, the suit lining was white along the blue, making Zelderan look almost king like. If Zelderan was a king, then Sabrial was his queen. She wore a long dark green dress that gracefully sweep the ground, their dress was lined with gold and her earrings were small silver hearts. She wore long matching green gloves that finished at her elbows, a gold rose gently twisted around each glove. Sabrial wore a matching green scarf around her shoulders and neck, keeping the chill from her body and walked with her arm around Zelderan’s. They walked towards Isilordil and Lavinia slowly and bowed deeply before them; Sabrial wore her hair in a tight bun behind her head and smiled gently up at their hosts with big red lips. “Thank you for inviting us, Lord and Lady Ventris.” Her voice ran like milk over silk. “We couldn’t leave you two out, Isilorbor would have killed us.” Lavinia said with a big smile, walking towards Sabrial and kissed her on the cheek. The kiss was returned and both women looked to their left as they heard a foot stamp on the floor. Zelderan stood at perfect attention, his fist balled and on his heart, his barrelled chest out. “Legate Ventris, sir!” His voice was loud, almost breaking the magic of the night until Isilordil placed both his arms on Zelderan’s wide shoulders and grinned. “Not tonight, Zelderan! Its Isil tonight or Isilordil.” He winked at him and slapped his hands on his shoulders; the two men laughed and clasped forearms tightly. Sabrial and Lavinia shared a look, both with smiles on their lips. “Men, eh?” Sabrial giggled and Lavinia joined then, they walked to their husbands and linked their arms around them, when more guests started to arrive. “Please go up to the barn, we will be there shortly.” Lavinia said the Shadowbane’s bowed their heads together and turned to walk up towards the barn where servants took their cloaks. The party was invite only, so Isilordil and Lavinia knew who was coming. They invited land owners, homesteads mayors, army commanders, Lords of Calth, and their families to join them. Each guest Isilordil and Lavinia personally greeted and each had a gift to give them, but they had told the Shadowbane’s never to give them gifts, they were too close friends. The stream of people was steady; they bowed and exchanged kisses. They had greeted almost half of all the guests, when their other guests of honour arrived. Lendes wore her hair long with their families comb made into a hair pin, keeping her fringe out of her eyes. Her dress was pure white, showing a respect amount of cleavage and wore a small ruby eagle necklace, given to her by Lavinia as a parting gift. Her arm was linked by her new husband, and even Isilordil, who had seen war for most of his lift felt threatened. Risthir wore a long leather black robe; the lining was made out of bear fur that almost made himself look like a massive black bear, the same kind that almost killed Isilorbor. He wore his new lordship riches very well, bright golden rings and bracelets, on each bracelet was a simple of a great bear, the symbol of his house. They slowly walked towards Isilordil and Lavinia; Lendes looked like a mouse in a bears paw with Risthir towering over her. They stopped, at Risthir’s command it seemed, and bowed, almost forcefully. “Lord and Lady Ventris…” Risthir’s voice was like the rumble of a great storm, a very slight snarl as he addressed superiors. Lendes risked a small weak smile at Isilordil and Lavinia, they both hide their annoyance and insult well, but she had not spent three years with them not to know they did not like Risthir. “Welcome, Lord and Lady Faerveren.” Isilordil said in a calm voice, pretending not to hear the snarl in Risthir’s face and bowed. Lendes smiled slightly and cleared their throat politely. “I’m still Lady Belegorn, Lord Ventris.” Something that can be related to fear was in Lendes’s voice, which was conformed when Risthir bristled under his robe, as if the name sent a shiver down his spine. “Forgive me, Lady Belegorn. I hope your marriage goes well.” Isilordil smiled warmly at Lendes, but frowned ever so slightly when he saw hesitation in Lendes’ speech and stance. “Yes, yes…It goes well…” She quickly stepped up to Lavinia and kissed her cheek, while Risthir and Isilordil shook hands. Isilordil bite down the urge to place his full strength to break Risthir’s hand when he felt his hand being crushed. Both men locked eyes, an air of tension and a power struggle formed as neither of them backed down. Until Risthir released his grab reluctantly, like a child giving up with a puzzle and walking onwards to the barn without looking back, almost dragging Lendes with him. Lavinia watched the two leave, looking back at her husband with gorse insult and confusion, but said nothing. She took the hand that Risthir had held and kissed it, nodding his thanks, Isilordil looked down to welcome more guests, already a firm dislike for the new husband of Lendes. After they had greeted the last of the guests, the Lord and Lady walked towards the barn, all ready the inside was a small buzz of noise of people talking. Servants walked past the people with paters on their hands, offering goblets of wine to everyone with a smile. Isilordil and Lavinia took a glass and joined the buzz. They laughed and talked to their guests, sipping their wine and holding hands and laughed warmly at jokes being pasted around, of old family stories, all the time hoping the servants would not tell them of their little moment of lust. Zelderan and Sabrial joined Isilordil and Lavinia and talked of their new married life. Zelderan had been promoted to Captain himself, but since Isilorbor had been attacked by the bear, the new captain found himself leading two companies. Not that Zelderan would ever complain, it helped forge a brotherhood between Forth and Fifth Company that would at its own time pay off greatly. As the guests and hosts slowly drained their drinks, two men entered the barn; one was limping on his right leg, while another was walking with a cane that made Isilordil shiver. It was Forsion and Isilorbor. Forsion was wearing a very smart uniform to the 13th Legion, a white suit with gold lining with an eagle stamped onto the back on and chest. Isilorbor also wearing a white and gold suit, but lacking the eagle. They joined the crowd and Isilorbor surprised to see many people looking and smiling at him. Had his battle with the bear gone further then he first thought? He joined his mother and father, they both smiled at their son before Zelderan and Sabrial hugged and kissed him. The chatter was focused now on Isilorbor and he’s fight with the bear in the woods, Lendes had managed to sneak away from Risthir as he was speaking to an army commander, try as he might, he could do nothing to stop the man talking about Isilorbor, much to his anger. Silence feel as Osland walked forward, clearing his throat and bowed low to the guests. “Dinner is ready, my lords and ladies.” The people nodded and slowly took their seats; Osland disappeared and barked out orders for the servants to bring the food in. The guests took seats on their tables while the hosts and their guests of honour sat at the head table. On this table were Isilordil, Lavinia, Isilorbor, Forsion, Zelderan, Sabrial, Lendes and Risthir. As luck would have it, Isilorbor and Lendes were seating together, with Risthir next to Forsion. Zelderan sat on the other side of Isilorbor with Sabrial at the end of the table like Forsion, with Isilordil and Lavinia in the centre. Lendes smiled warmly at Isilorbor and fought the urge to take his hand, seeing him in front of her now made her want to sing. The servants refilled every goblet with wine and rushed to their interments ready to play music when told to be Osland. The chatter died at once as Isilordil slowly stood up, smiling widely at the people before him. “Thank you all for coming.” His voice caught the ears of everyone easily; such was Isilordil’s training as an army commander himself. “This dinner party, for it is a party, and you are ordered to enjoy yourselves.” He paused as a mutter of chuckles and amusements rumbled across the barn. “Myself and my wife wanted to bring this party for our son, Isilorbor, who as you all know, fought to protect Lady Belegorn from a bear in the Darkfell woods.” Isilorbor felt eyes upon him, looking down at the table as to not sure his embarrassment hiding in his eyes due to the stares of people. He felt Lendes’s hand hold his under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze and a smile that Isilorbor had missed so very much. “Son, you’re actions were above and beyond your call of duty. A toast!” People rose to their feet as Isilordil raised his wine glass, the last one to rise slowly was Risthir, seemingly to hate the attention of Isilorbor. “To Isilorbor!” Isilordil said proudly. “To my son!” Lavinia joined their toast. “To a friend unlike any other!” Sabrial’s voice joined. “To a captain and a great battle-brother!” Zelderan nudged Isilorbor with his elbow and grinned widely. “To Isilorbor, long live the Ventris line!” Forsion declared. Lendes said nothing, her eyes linked with Isilorbor’s and simply nodded. Nor did Risthir, keeping his gaze of steel away from the crowd and drained his wine with a flick of his wrist without pause, putting the empty goblet on the table and snapping his fingers to a savant to refill it. The guests took a very long sip of their drinks, then cheered at Isilorbor and sat down, when Osland slowly walked into the middle of the tables and bowed deeply. “Dinner is served.” He spoke loudly, the doors burst open behind the head table and food was brought gracefully out. The food itself was fit for a royal feast. Great emerald green bowls filled with olives, chips, water for washing hands. Jugs of wine were also brought out, placed on the tables with a bow of the head and a smile; the savants exchanged a few words with the guests about what they would like to eat before rushing off to for fill their wishes. Meats were brought out next, a pig had been hunted and now was spit roasted to perfection, its skin a bright orange, the meat tender and warm with an apple lodged in its mouth. Platters of roasted ducks were brought out as well, many women of the party requested duck, and their wishes were the servant’s orders. Steaks followed swiftly behind the ducks, large juicy steaks according to the men’s preamble teats. The spit roasted pig was placed in the middle of the barn, two servants stayed with it at all times, adding oil and keeping a small flame under it to keep it warm. Some asked for part of it, and the servant took knifes and cut large parts out of the pig and served them. Isilordil bowed his head deeply as a large steak was brought before him, rubbing his hands together with an almost child like glee in his eyes. He took his knife and fork and started to cut it into fine pieces, adding small salt rocks to it before eating. Music gently flowed out from the coroners of the room, harp players gracefully stocked their harp strings and send beautiful music into the heart and souls of the party, small flute players joined in the melody adding their own tone with a gentle wind blowing with the harps as rolling hills in a far away land. All was happy and peacefully, truly the planning of this party was paying off. Conversation was low between mouthfuls of food were manners were the order of the day, lords and ladies made new business plans and talked about new ways for the people of Calth. Homestead mayors spoke with army commanders about how better to keep orcs away, while traders exchanged secret routs to avoid orc raiding areas. But all of that paled to what the head table was talking about. Sabrial placed her hand gently on a glass of wine, she had never taken a sip of it and shook her head gently as a servant offered to refill it. “No, thank you. Do you have any juice? Maybe apple?” Her voice was slightly begging, she was clearly thirsty. The servant thought for a moment and smiled. “We do have some fresh apple juice ready, my lady.” “I’ll take a glass of apple juice instead, if I may?” Sabrial beamed a bright smile and the servant bowed his head and left. Zelderan turned his head slightly to his wife, swallowing a piece of pork and smiled lovingly at her. “Are you all right? You’ve not been drinking wine lately.” A note of worry was hard not to miss on Zelderan’s voice; even Isilorbor had turned his head at his old friends tone. She bite her cherry red lip and could not help but to smile. “Remember what little Ravenal said? About where babies came from?” Isilorbor almost chocked on his wine, he splattered slightly and grinned at the two. “Were the two of you putting on a show again?” Zelderan and Sabrial laughed nervously not looking him in the eye, remembering when Isilorbor had walked in on them having sex. “No, no…Not that...” She giggled; her embarrassment somehow enhanced her beauty. Zelderan placed his knife and fork down and took his wife’s hand, looking deep into her eyes with a trace of worry. “Sabrial, what is it?” She looked away from Zelderan, her smile growing. “I didn’t want to tell you until later on…” She whispered lovingly to him, taking both his hands and looking her husband with love and happiness burning deep into her blue eyes. Zelderan’s mouth was open; he was breathing deeply waiting for Sabrial to tell him what ever made her so happy. Isilorbor and Lendes were also deeply interested and leaned forward. “I’m pregnant!” She almost squeaked the words from her mouth, throwing her arms around Zelderan, holding him tightly and kissing his cheek over and over again. Zelderan laughed happily and held his wife, closing his eyes. Isilorbor and Lendes let the two have their moment, raising their glasses in toast and took their sip to celebrate the new heir to the Shadowbane’s. Lendes leaned forward and held Isilorbor’s hand, her duck on the table half finished. “I’ve missed you.” She spoke in a low voice, hoping that Risthir would not hear her. “I missed you too, Lendes.” Isilorbor had half a steak and pork on his plate yet to be eaten, his wounds were throbbing with pain from time to time, but now that Lendes was there, the pain was forgotten. “I’m so sorry about leaving you while you were still asleep…Believe me when I say I stayed with you until the very last moment, Isil…” Her voice was sad and begging, she must have his forgiveness, or this whole party would be for nothing. Isilorbor smiled gently, holding her hand tightly and nodded. “There is nothing to forgive, nothing!” His voice was low; matching Lendes’s and flashed a look to his father, Forsion and Risthir. They were locked in a heated argument that made Isilorbor tense. He looked back at Lendes and smiled warmly again, but Lendes shook her head. “I know what your going to say, Isil…Please, I have-“ Her words were cut off when Risthir banged a flat hand on the table, standing up quickly in a changeling manner. Isilordil and Forsion stood to meet him, all three men’s eyes hard and unforgiving, blood was on their minds, “How dare you, Ventris! I’m a lord now and I demand some respect and the title!” Risthir was drunk, he swayed slightly on his feet, but the anger was sobering up him. Lendes placed both her hands over her face and lowered herself to keep the eyes of the guests off her. Everything had gone silent, the music, the eating and the conversation. Isilordil held his fists tightly into balls at his side, rage of a great insult and to Isilorbor’s horror he saw that Lavinia had tears in her eyes. “How dare you insult my wife…!” His voice was like a volcano about to erupt; even Forsion was on the brink of attacking Risthir, Old Painless held in his hands ready to strike. “That…Was uncalled for…And disgusting!” He spoke thought his clinched teeth and hissed Risthir sized Forsion; it was like a bear standing to fight an old stag. But Forsion would not be cowed by Risthir, and with Isilordil behind him, if a fight broke out Risthir would lose. “I demand the right to command!” He growled again, his voice was raising and soon he would shout. “You are not a Calthrian; therefore you cannot take command since you are a minor lord! I do not care if you have married a Marshal of Gondor’s daughter! I am supreme commander of the army, and you will never take Captain in my life time!” Isilordil his twitched, as if he wanted them around Risthir’s thick neck. “That can be arranged…!” The words from Risthir’s throat were enough to stun the barn into silence. Isilorbor looked down at Lendes, she was terrified. She was shaking in her chair as if his wrath might be taken out of her; he looked at his mother and saw her makeup was running from her tears. Resolve hardened Isilorbor and he stood up, Risthir, Isilordil and Forsion staring at him. “He can join Forth with a Sergeants posting.” He declared, Isilordil and Forsion looked sharply at him, bewildered at the sudden vote. “Isilorbor…” Isilordil his was a still a growl, almost a warning to his son. Isilorbor met his fathers gaze with his own, locking eyes and a battle of wills begun. “If he wants to join the army, let him join Forth Company, since our defeat, we are short on men and need everyone we can get our hands on to refill our ranks. Plus this will also give Lord Risthir the chance to prove his worth to us before moving on, if he so chooses.” The argument was sound and the logic could not be denied. Risthir flashed a look of hate at Isilorbor, and from the moment, Isilorbor knew he did not like the man. He saw that his robe was filled with a black bear fur, and Isilorbor wondered briefly if Risthir was trying to remake the image of the black bear he had fought in the woods and trying to send a message, but dismissed it from his mind. “I don’t want to be a useless Sergeant!” He yelled, this time the guests in the room jumped slightly in their chairs, looking at the fight at the head table in silence. “Take it or leave it, my lord.” Isilorbor folded his arms across his chest and remain impassive as a wall. Risthir breathed deeply in and out, he had no other choose, and nodded once, looking at Lendes with darkness in his eyes. “I’m going home….” Before he could continue, Isilorbor raised a hand. “You will report to me tomorrow morning, Risthir…Do not be late…” Isilorbor missed the title of lord in his name on purpose, placing him above Risthir and smiled very slightly. Risthir neck clicked loudly at Isilorbor’s small insult, keeping his eyes locked on Lendes. “Have dinner on the table tomorrow evening…” Risthir left his words in the air and stormed out of the barn, Zelderan moved close to Sabrial to protect her and the unborn child and watching him leave. With Risthir gone, Lavinia stood with tears still in her eyes, she tried her best to smile as she addressed the people, her voice breaking and weak. “Thank you all for coming…But I fear it’s rather too late for me and I will retire to bed…Thank you all so much for coming…” She raised her wine glass and drained it in front of the guests in their honour and left, Isilordil quickly behind her to comfort his wife. The party broke apart after that, Isilorbor took the lead of host and waited at the barn entrance and thanked everyone for coming and spoke to each of them quickly, offering them an apology and a smile. After the gusts had gone, Osland and a few other savants looked exhausted, looking at the work before them and sighed deeply. Isilorbor walked to Osland and nodded to him. “This can wait until tomorrow, Osland. You and your people did great tonight and you should all rest.” Osland and the savants beamed at the praise, the only one they had all of the night and bowed low before leaving the barn, leaving Isilorbor alone in the fading darkness with bits of eaten food and silence all around him. He walked to the head table and drained the last of his wine, he rubbing his face slowly and thought deeply about the coming days with Risthir now under his command. It would be tough, he knew that. Risthir might seek to take over the Company from the inside; loyalties would be tested, factions drawn, and maybe even blood spilled. He hoped that he was wrong and leaned on the head table and heard soft footsteps behind him, he knew at once who it was. “Lendes…” She had metalled to the shadows when everyone was leaving, as she walked out, Isilorbor noticed that she was smiling at him with a loving look in her eyes. “We have to talk…” The words formed a small cold rock in Isilorbor’s stomach as Lendes sat on the table in front of him, looking down at their feet with a shamed look on her face. “About Risthir…?” Lendes nodded a few times, a single tear dropped from her face. Isilorbor took Lendes’s chin gently and raised her to look at him. He saw tears and a pain deep behind them. She gulped and started to remove the side of her dress, she paused before removing it. “Forgive me, Isilorbor.” She whispered as she showed him a dark bruise on her side. Isilorbor’s eyes widened and he reeled back like something at punched him; he almost fell on his back as he felt his legs weaken. “No…!” Those were the only whispered words Isilorbor could form to Lendes, tears streamed down her face as she poured her heart and soul to Isilorbor. “He is so rough with me, Isil…We have made love five times since we married…And…Its so painful..!” She stood up slowly, covering her bruises again and looked up at Isilorbor with fear in her watery eyes. “He treats me like a whore…Having his way with me, then…If I displease him…He beats me…Or he just, beats me when a drunken wreck…” Isilorbor felt a burning anger deep in his heart. It was bad enough that it was Lendes, his friend and the woman he loved, but to beat a woman? His thoughts were arrested when Lendes took Isilorbor’s hand and shook her head. “What ever you’re planning, don’t!” She whispered desperately, holding both his hands and holding them to her face, kissing them once and locked eyes with him, showing a dark fear. “He said if I tell anyone, he’ll kill me, my family and that person….Its not me I’m worried about…Its my mother and father…And you!” Isilorbor dropped to his knees and Lendes, holding her hands tightly. “Lendes…I…What would you have me do…?” Isilorbor had no idea how to react to this, nor what he should do; he simply looked at Lendes, tears forming in his eyes. Lendes returned his look, holding Isilorbor’s hands and came to a decision. “Make love to me.” They kissed deeply, moaning gently as their lips touched and found themselves going into Lendes’s old room in the barn and closed the door behind them, taking each others clothes off and leaving them on the floor. Once they were in bed, every action and reaction was made with pleasure and care. Gentle and slow, Isilorbor and Lendes showed each other what they thought of the other. They kept was quite as they could, their love was to be a secret, no one must know. This moment of love would cause them their first child, to which Lendes would later say was Risthir’s. After their love making, they laid in bed necked together, wrapping in each others body warmth and drifted into sleep. Both of them were happy, but hard times were coming to both of them. But in this moment in time, Isilorbor Ventris and Lendes Belegorn loved each other more then anything in Middle Earth.