Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 49

After a moment of consideration he looked to the meat on the slab and turned to the smokehouse. "This is gonna be too tough, here. . ." Several moments later he emerged with five sealed jars, each one branded with a date several weeks old. Sarah just about hurled them down in disgust but then she saw the lids were familiar; jars from the free states. Vacuum sealed jars.

"My appreciation of you grows by the second, Chase. My, my, my, where did you come across these?" She inspected one of the jars. The meat inside was tightly packed and certainly looked fresh and edible. . . "Yes. Indeed."

The young man blushed, glancing away. He mumbled something to the effect of 'let yourself in' as he thrust a key at her. Upon taking it, Sarah felt herself relax physically. She hadn't even felt herself getting wound up, but now facing the possibility of a warm meal and good company, she didn't need to fake her smile. It was quick and infectious. With a flourish she turned on her heel and set off to the house.

And what a house it was.

To Sarah, the idea of opulence was boring and trivial compared to the simple pleasures of well made furniture arranged sensibly and draped in trappings of warm and inviting colors. The long farmhouse had all of that and a touch more. The main room in particular was lavish in its simplicity and warmth, despite or maybe because of the layer of dust covering everything.

It was a treasure waiting to be unearthed.

Sarah got to work at once, dusting the modest dining table down and striking up the oil lamps which only warmed the room more. Unlike many houses in Sorash, Chase's took after a more western design with cupboards and a dignified kitchen that itself was stocked with spices and stoneware. Dominating the room was an open hearth that vented through the wall, serving as central heating and oven in one. It was close enough to the dining table and the couch and chairs on the opposite side of the room to warm and light the entire chamber. "Gods, I might be in love," She said offhandedly.

The hall down the center of the building laid out between a pair of bedrooms and a rather surprising indoor privy that had all the trademarks of a Pamor design; a mouse would have had a hard time turning around inside it, but it was both indoors and sensible, and by smell, quite functional. She closed that particular door and retreated to the kitchen and living area.

It took her a moment to gather up everything she needed, but eventually she managed to get a fire going and in the next half-hour, put together a fine stew with the preserved vegetables and meat she salvaged from the cupboards. Keiter and Tess eventually wandered in, lead by their noses, and Chase soon there after. He'd shed his camouflage in the smokehouse and wore heavy trousers and tunic packed into one another to retain as much body heat as possible and smelling very much of the woods. He'd made a vain effort to clean his face but it was painfully apparent to all involved that a bath was going to be in order.

Their host stalled at the image of Keiter and Tess at the table before looking to Sarah. A flicker of doubt crossed his eyes but hunger overrode his caution and he sat down in opposite his guests. While Sarah worked the fire and stirred the pot he glanced between the odd pair who themselves looked to one another.

Eventually it was Keiter who broke the silence. "If my friend has not yet thanked you for your hospitality, I would." He clasped his little hands together and bowed. "I have nothing to offer, but I can clean and if you wish, we could speak of things."

"Oh, yes. Thank you." Tess smiled brightly.

Chase blushed. Eventually he rallied himself, leaning forward. "As I was sayin t'miss Sarah, you'll have t'forgive my manners. I've been hunting all week." He tried for a smile. "So, uh. . . You're a priest? Are you an Engineer?"

Keiter gave him that strange reptilian look of all kobolds. "No, I serve Isira. She is the pleasure bringer, and brings all kinds of things- complex and simple!"

"That she does," Tess murmured. Then burst into giggles. At the entire room's look she blushed and shrank away. "Sorry, uh. Human gods are kind of strange- no offense, of course! But we see the spirits of the world, we grew up with them and magic. . . .the idea you have to ask for it from someone is, ahm, kind of odd."

"Think nothing of it." Sarah preempted. "Now, I'll not have such divisive issues at my table. Let's enjoy the moment, shall we?" She ladled out bowls for everyone, ensuring Chase and her own were maybe a bit heavier on the meat than the others- just a touch.

When they sat down to eat, Keiter placed his claws on the table. "Perhaps we should wait for Caldion. It's polite." His muzzle was pointed directly at Sarah in that way she'd come to understand his being accusatory.

"He knows how to get here and, with the permission of our wonderful host, I can make something for him if he needs it." Sarah didn't hide her contempt for the boy any more than she did her hunger as she scooped up a spoon full. The meal continued in relative silence despite Tessarie's attempts to strike up conversation- forgoing her dinner to Keiter in the process. They were all too tired to engage, but for all of it, Chase made the most valiant effort, listening to Tess recounting her time as a dancer in Sorash and meeting a certain half-elf who'd freed her.

Then Keiter's quiet tale about how his entire tribe had been butchered for the ore their mine had. Something Sarah had fed him when he was young; it was the truth for the most part. The village's merchant had explicitly told her so, but her spin on it had put them in maybe a more demonized light- something Isira had probably corrected in Her telling of it. . .

Sarah chalked it up to another betrayal by the goddess, even if it was for his own benefit.

Chase was quiet and calm throughout both of their stories, excusing himself to get another bowl- something Sarah quickly put to rest by preempting him and getting it for him. She could feel his eyes on her while she refilled the bowl, something he didn't hide terribly well from the others. When she set the bowl down she leaned nearer than strictly necessary, bending until she was sure the swell of her cleavage was visible through the gap in her blouse.

Her voice was a soft purr meant only for him. "Can I do anything else for you?"

He sat still for a moment trying so hard to hold her gaze- and almost succeeding. That brief glimpse down had him blushing furiously but through some small miracle, he managed to belt out a 'no thank you.' before he scooped up his bowl and polished off the second helping. He barely said anything after that, keeping his attentions keenly focused on the table and offering only murmured responses to any questions sent his way.

When it was clear the other two weren't going to let up on him, Sarah clasped her hands together and leaned forward. "Let's give the man the good grace not to inundate him, hm? He has been afield for quite some time and if you'd seen the animal he brought in, you'd understand just how tired he must be- soldiers and gods would barely be standing, I dare say."

"Oh," they said at once. "Sorry."

"It's nothing." Chase murmured.

Sarah balked. "Nonsense! You work hard for your peace of mind, you most certainly deserve to have it." Without a hint of movement above the table she touched his foot with her own, giving him a reassuring smile. He looked to her wary but curious. "If I may impose but a step further, would my companions be allowed to sleep upon your couch?"

"Uh. . ." His foot shifted away- Sarah extended a tiny bit further to touch it again. "Uh- y-" He cleared his throat. "Do you both sleep together?"

Keiter started quickly, "No-"

Tess threw them both under the carriage, "Sometimes-"

Sarah looked over with an arched brow. They both looked to one another, shook their head and swapped answers neatly. The voluptuous half-elf took her chin in her hand looking between them with a wry smile. "Do tell. . ."

Keiter clucked his tongue softly. "We would be honored if we could share a room. She does not sleep, but I think she feels safer with someone nearby, even if it is only to be near something living-" he looked right at Sarah. "Her magic is different and swells in the presence of other life, like a flower in the sun."

Sarah doubted that was the only thing that swelled in the presence of other life, but she didn't comment on it. Some part of her was warmed by the idea that the two had hit it off so well after their rocky start, but some deeper part became instantly wary and guarded of Keiter being hurt by the pretty young elf when she no longer fancied him. . .

She smiled all the same.

Chase waited a beat before speaking. "You can use the room on the left. Just don't take anything. Please."

"I would never." Keiter said softly. "You honor me more than I deserve, thank you."

"Yes, thank you." Tess chirped before shooting Keiter a questioning look. Sarah resolved to ask them what was going on later, but for the moment she recovered the empty dishes and went about cleaning them up. When she returned, she set her hands to Chase's shoulders. He tensed instantly.

"I think," Sarah said, starting to work her thumbs into his shoulders. "I would like to bathe. Pray tell, good man, do you have a tub?"

"Ah. . . uh- N- No. There's the river alongside the path. Past the smoke house. . ."

"Ah, very well!" She leaned down, murmuring in his ear. "Do I dare hope you'll join me? I suspect we have a lot to talk about."

His breath hitched and he looked to her tiredly, uncertain. She smiled.

Then she squeezed his shoulders, "I'd not want to see you sully your sheets with field grime, and I doubt you would either."

Again he paused, swallowed and turned his attention to the table before him. Keiter picked up on what Sarah was angling at- or at least thought he did- and nudged Tess, politely excusing both of them to the safety of the room their host had offered. The same host they abandoned to Sarah's machinations.

She grinned reassuringly. "Come now, I'm not going to hurt you. In truth, I'd like the chance to pick your brain about something of mutual interest." At his glance she cupped his cheek. "I assure you, you'll enjoy everything that passes my lips, .no matter which way that might be."

"A- uh-. . ." He swallowed. "All right."

#

The stream was right where he Chance had promised and while the water was a bit on the chilly side- owing largely to the evening air- under the gaze of the high hanging moon, it was a comfortable setting to shed the leagues she'd put between herself and Sorash. They weren't enough, of course. Gods, were they ever?

It was only through a monumental force of willpower that she didn't allow her mind to drift back to the memories of the city and what she had almost accomplished there. Twenty years of safety. Twenty. Years. . .

Her Cherub had once warned her about the future; sickeningly the best piece of advice Sarah had ever received was delivered by that insipid creature: "Don't think of the days to come or those past. Live in a perpetual state of 'now'." Sarah had her own twist on that particular sentiment. "Live in the now or be crushed by the weight of your position, day by day."

Not nearly as catchy or sublime, but certainly poignant.

Sarah shook it off as she massaged her bathing oils into the skin of her shoulders until she felt the friction warm her once more. Rocks splashed into the water nearby and Sarah froze, suddenly acutely aware of how far she was from shore, from her pistol. She'd never make it in time.

A beat passed in silence.

Another followed it.

Then Chance cursed softly.

Sarah eased up to the patch of reeds that acted as a screen between their bathing positions and peeked around the winding mess of vegetation to ensure he was alone. He was hunched slightly, covering himself even now as though she might see him through the screen of plants. For some reason that bothered Sarah; he was young, physically fit and from what little she could make out in the shadows, he had no shame to hide that warranted his being so cautious. . .

It was no doubt an affectation from the east; modesty at any cost. Hmph. Damnable conventions of the most closed minded. No wonder the eastern kingdoms were so far behind anything the Free States were doing.

Almost as if to spite the concept, Sarah lingered at the edge of the brush while Chance eased himself into the water, savoring every inch of his youthful form as he sunk up to his neck and immediately started washing his face, then his hair. She eased away eventually so as not to appear rude, but she found herself appreciating the growing curiosity this young man inspired in her.

It had been quite some time since she'd felt respect for someone barely in their twenties, as anything more than a passing distraction to amuse and be entertained by and then never to see again. So when he spoke she did so without her usual conventions and got straight to the point: "Does your father live here too?"

Chance was quiet for some moments and the water was still. Eventually he replied, "He does, yes. He's in Sorash though. . ."

"The mortgage?"

"Yes, miss Sarah-"

"Please, dear. Call me Sarah. You'll find I enjoy the simple pleasures and friendly conversation more than I do formalities." She almost chuckled at that as she scraped her oil clean. "Why in the name of the gods would you move out here of all places?"

"Mmmm. It-" The water stirred and trickled as the silence dragged out. Just before Sarah opened her mouth the young man sighed out long and low. The haggard sigh of defeat. "My father took me away from my home when I was young and my grandfather hid us from my mother. . . .he insisted the Free States were nothing but a place where talent and dreams died." He laughed derisively. "He had big plans about starting up a Repository here."

It was Sarah's turn to go quiet.

"Didn't turn out that way, though. It turns out nobility feel threatened when someone wants to set up a temple to a god- they mocked him, and imprisoned him for a time. . . .he's not a cleric, though. So. . ."

"So he was let go." Sarah said. "Oh, my but your father is brave. I shudder to think what would happen if a real Engineer had found out about it and wished to prosecute such a blasphemy." She kept her tone light despite the very real implication; there were fates worse than death, some of them involving setting up temples to faiths one was not explicitly in bonded service to.

They continued their cleaning rituals in relative silence for some time before Sarah broke the silence with a gently spoken appeasement. "I must say, Chance, the more I learn about you and your family, the more I find myself drawn- dare I say enraptured- with the idea of potential this place represents. I seldom meet such. . . .resourceful people in the cities and farms I visit."

"Maybe not as resourceful as you think, miss Sarah- ah, Sarah. Sorry."

"Come now, I find that hard to believe."

"Kinna hard t'be resourceful when there's no farm here to sell from and no matter how much hunting we get away with, it'd never be enough to pay t'loan sellin t'carts." He chuckled rather bitterly. "I've been tryin t'convince him to go back to Pamor but. . ."

But. . . Sarah mulled it over. She blinked, struck by the idea. "He won't abandon his invention."

Chance snorted.

Perfect.

Sarah felt her heart surge; an opportunity. A very potent, very dangerous one that could have gotten them all killed, but also held within it the possibility that she'd never have to look over her shoulder again. She clenched her hands tight. It was suicide, and yet the possibility. . .

Oh, by the gods, the possibility- she could do it right this time. She could figure it out. There'd be no more mistakes made by an unskilled hand, she'd had time to develop her abilities and she had the crushing weight of experience borne upon her shoulders now; she could make the ship work.

She chose her words with kind of care a jeweler would making a crown for a dictator. "These kinds of things are addictive in ways most people can't comprehend, my dear. Even without a divine servant chanting in your ear to finish it, seeing something so unusual brought to fruition? The truth of it is quite simple- he can't. He has a problem. . ."

Another derisive snort. "It's just a boat."

"That it is! But why the holes in it? Mayhap there's something amiss, hm?" Sarah moved to peek around the reeds once more, just to gauge his reaction, but his back was to her- a strong, proud form that shimmered in the moonlight. She couldn't help but linger a moment longer.

Maybe just one more.

"He says it can fly. . ." Chance shook his head before ducking under the water again. When he came up, he added: "Something he saw at the end of the world. M'grandfather helped him build it until he died- it's been sitt'n ever since."

Sarah made sure she was gone by the time he started to turn around. "Egods, man. Well, perhaps we might be able to help one another out. You've an interesting invention that could be better stored in a Repository itself, and I happen to be rather flush with coin that could be in the hands of someone more prone to using it than myself."

"With due respect, Sarah, I don't think anyone's gonna help him."

Is that what he thought? He might've been right under different circumstances, but tonight- this week- Sarah was willing to tempt fate with four little words: "You might be surprised." She let that hang in the air for a moment while sneaking up the riverbank and drying off with her dirty clothes. "Oh dear," she said with false modesty.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"I should say so!" She edged up to the reeds, found his clothes and waited until he was looking away before pinching his button up tunic. Light, comfortable fabric. Long enough for her to wear comfortably, too; she grinned and tugged it on, leaving the two top buttons undone. When she appeared around the foliage Chance was just about to get out of the water himself.

They stood there for a moment looking at one another, Sarah placed her hand on her hip and gave him a flippant smile. He hesitated. Blinked. Swallowed.

Perfect.

"A lesson from someone who's been doing this longer than you've been alive, my dear. . ." She turned lazily and prowled towards the house with a very deliberate sway. Glancing back, confident the scars on her back were covered by her hair on the shirt, she said: "Life is under no obligation to give us what we expect!"

Chance watched her go, all the way back to the house. She'd been hoping he'd follow close behind, but once again he'd usurped her preconceived notions by taking his bloody time. She busied herself with stoking the hearth and making some tea in the meantime, pouring a cup for him the moment he crossed the threshold.

He took the cup with a gracious nod, now wearing the old shirt he'd brought out with him. Sarah tisked playfully, easing into his space with such care that she may as well have been trying to make glass. To his credit he held his ground. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment and resting her chin against his chest.

"I suspect you hear this quite often, but I find intelligence a trait worthy of worship- and you, my good man. . . .have intrigued me." At his dubious expression she arched her back slightly, pressing her generous chest to his. Slowly the flicker of realization sparked in his eyes as the shirt she'd claimed crept over her butt, exposing one inch after another.

"Uh-"

"So, in this moment of. . . .intrinsic curiosity am I to be left wondering what could have been?" She tiptoed her fingers up his chest, up around his shoulders where she let her arm dangle about him. "Or do I dare suggest what should be is right before both of us. Hm?"