Chapter 3

Reman sat up quickly and reached for his sword as he was awakened, only to be reminded that he was no longer wearing it. Before he could remember where he was, Vrenis pressed her first two fingers to his lips to silence him, her face still as unreadable as stone. Disoriented, he wanted to question her, but reminded himself that she wouldn't be able to understand his words regardless. Then, for the first time he managed to decipher the look of worry that had crossed the face of his host.

All of Rem's senses sharpened immediately as adrenaline rushed the sluggishness of sleep from his veins. A familiar sound had reached his ears from outside the shelter; the slow, dull impact of hooves on gravel, and the rhythm of steady, thick breathing.

He could see a large shape moving beyond the cracks at the front of the shelter as he looked towards the door where his weapons and armor lay, steeped in shadow from the morning sun. He was given no time to move towards them, however, as Vrenis quickly pulled him to his feet and ushered him behind the curtain to the other room.

Once on the other side of the curtain, Vrenis left him alone. The chief feature of the room consisted of a simple iron frame, across which a net of leather cord was stretched taught. Thick furs sat over that. There was also series of wooden shelves, across which was set the leather armor he had seen the Minotaur wearing the night before, overtop her simple wool garments.

Rem startled as the other entered the room once more, regarding him shortly before throwing his bedroll underneath the cot in her room and leaving once more. After a moment Rem heard the wooden creak of the shelter's door as it opened and closed.

Havare's careful inspection of the venison that hung outside the shelter was cut short, as Vrenis greeted him.

"Niervest ver losare cear mir vermas, Havare. I hope your travels have been kind."

"Vrenis," Havare said. "I apologize for waking you; I see that you hunted last night. You must be tired."

Vrenis let out a short snort of humor. "It seems that you always find me after a hunt, Havare. I should almost suspect you were planning it."

The other shrugged and held out his palms. "Can you fault that I find your stew most delicious on the morning after the hunt?"

"You would eat my stew if I kept a pot for a month, just for you."

Havare let out a warm chuckle at her. "Indeed, for when your stew has aged to a month's time, it's far beyond what I myself could hope to brew."

Vrenis offered him a weak smile, despite the obviousness of her guest's flattery. "Well then," she said, "there will be no prodding you to business before your stomach has been dealt with?"

"I fear not, ma'am." He grinned slyly, the warm brown eyes of his face all but disappearing into slits.

"It's a shame," he told her, once he had been seated within the shelter, "that such fine craftsmanship should go to waste." He indicated the forge.

"As you continue to remind me," Vrenis said. "It will remain as it has. It is no more mine to work than yours."

"It would seem the finest of objects in the household see the least use. The house speaks of a void needing to be filled."

"What have you brought for me?" Vrenis interrupted his thoughts by placing a bowl in his lap. "I am sure you didn't come all this way to discuss my forge."

"Your forge no, though less is the excuse I'd ask for an opportunity to visit."

Vrenis regarded him impatiently where she stood over him, arms crossed.

Havare cleared his throat and continued. "Yes, as I was saying." From the many pouches the Minotaur wore, he produced a small wooden box and a larger bundle. The box Vrenis sat beside her burlap bag of spices, before kneeling down to unfold the bundle at her hooves. A collection of dull, iron rivets revealed itself before her.

"Ninety eight, as per your request," Havare told her.

"And what," she asked, "of my special order?"

Reluctantly he dropped the last bundle before her. "Might I ask of your intentions?"

Vrenis opened the second bundle, revealing a collection of perfect, brilliant steel studs. "A chieftain's daughter is in need of new armor," she told him. "As you know, my work is unmatched."

Havare snorted once. "Your princess should leave war to the warriors."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And what do you know of war, smithy?"

"I know that in war, one does not waste what one has. One gives the best armor to those who will use it, and one leaves no forge unfired."

Vrenis crossed her arms once more and narrowed her eyes. "Indeed. The meats on the left rack are yours. I have left the new binders beneath it, along with the leggings Niersan requested. I believe that concludes our business."

Havare downed the last of the stew in his bowl, rising to his hooves and adjusting the pouches that hung from the bets on his shoulders. "Then until we meet again, my lady. May your hunts prosper."

"Ver losarest iervast," she echoed.

Havare nodded as he turned towards the door. For a moment he looked back at the three empty bowls on the floor. "You've been shorter with me than usual, Vrenis. Is there something wrong?"

Vrenis looked away from her guest, swallowing hard. "Everything is fine," she told him.

Havare regarded her carefully, and for a moment opened his mouth to speak once more. Then he shook his head, and went on his way.

Vrenis remained standing where she was, motionless as she listened to the hoof-falls fade away. When at last they were no more, she closed her eyes and allowed the air to escape her lungs once more. Until that moment she hadn't realized how shaky her stance was, nor how tightly her fists were clenched.

Every surface felt numb, even as she trembled with an imagined chill brought on by the final release of the fear that had been paralyzing her. The many mistakes she had made began to surface, from the extra bowl that was still set to the weapons and armor that still lay just besides the door. More so, she began to wonder if there was a worse mistake in the fact that she hadn't simply told Havare of the human's presence. It may well have ended violently, but nothing compared to what would have taken place had her deception been noticed. There was no precedent for such actions, protecting one of the very monsters who sought to destroy their way of life. And consequently, there was no telling what would have become of her if she was discovered.

Perhaps the only solution was to give up her guest, and claim she had protected him against her will. It would be a difficult argument to make. The humans' strength was in numbers, and this human was very much alone. "You have your sword, and you know to use it," they would say, "and you are far stronger than the human. How could he possibly have trapped you?" But surely, the human would not be able to tell Havare otherwise, or convince him of it even if he could. He would be the monster, and she the victim.

But she hadn't betrayed him, even though it should have been the easiest, most obvious solution, just as she had been unable to kill him in the forest. Grimly she reflected on the fear that stayed her hand. Fear of humans was not what bothered her, but the fear at the thought of harming a creature who could not fight back.

She knew that there was no secret that could be kept forever, and so neither could Vrenis withstand protecting her guest forever. If she could not bring herself to betray the human, someone else would eventually betray him for her. And when that happened, they would both be killed.

"Nasvines aeden," she whispered. God help me.

Minutes of silence passed after the second Minotaur arrived, during which Rem could do nothing but wait, anxiously listening to the voices filtering to him. The meaning of their conversation was beyond him, and so he had no way of knowing if he was being mentioned or not. He half feared that his host was explaining her situation to the other, and he would soon be captured. But then the shelter door opened and closed once more, and silence enveloped the room where Rem waited, motionless to the point of barely breathing.

When the voice drifted through the curtain once more, it was different somehow. Still soft and careful as ever, to be sure, but to Rem it seemed to have changed. His host sounded tired, hurt, or frightened; he could not tell which.

"Rem," she called. "Havare ves losares." Cautiously he drew back the curtain, half expecting to be greeted by the edge of a Minotaur battle ax.

His host sat on one knee near the front of the shelter, both hands folded over her right kneecap with her chin resting over that, facing away. Rem waited a moment before speaking, expecting her to acknowledge him in some way. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Only then did she move from her position, glancing over her shoulder in Rem's direction. Then she rose, running the sleeve of her shirt over her eyes, and turned towards him. Her eyes remained focused on the floor as she spoke. "Ver ner niervest aun mir vermas," she said. "Ver nasvines losares."

Her voice sounded sad, enough that Rem almost felt sorry for her. Mostly he was puzzled by her sudden change of moods; though she was no longer guarded towards him, he could not consider her mood to be an improvement either. And unlike the previous night, she spoke openly to him despite the fact that communication was irrelevant.

Vrenis brushed passed him en route to her room. She stopped for a moment, pointing him towards his gear and the door, and then left him alone as she went behind the curtain again.