Dinner was taking place in Iyrnahct's bedroom. Theirs was a family pulled together by improvisation and constant industry. When the grimaces and muttered protests of pain had grown too numerous to justify moving their father to the dinner table, it had seemed only logical for his younger sons to bring the round oak dining table to him. So Danisil had provided fresh cod and shrimp, which Merlannaka had prepared into his famous (and only slightly burnt chowder), and the entire collected family had crammed themselves around the oak table next to Iyrnahct's bedside. The meal proceeded as it had every night for nearly ten years, irregardless of the fact that Iyrnahct was eating little, Klynzahr was eating less, and Old James had eaten nothing at all.
        Old James had actually dozed off long before dinner began, and Klynzahr gingerly sliding his elbow out of the butter dish, while trying to determine how they would extract the old man from his position without waking him or irreparably damaging the furniture. Nothing lasted long in a house full of half-grown Roegadyn boys, which she considered a likely hypothesis for why they had an ancient, drunk carpenter living permanently with them.
    Merlannka was talking. He had been talking without pause since the meal began, as had been his custom for the last twelve years. Merlannka had learned to talk late and Klynzahr had stated more than once that they never ought to have taught him at all.
"So ye'll come then Klynzahr?" Her head jerked up towards the circle of expectant faces.
"Come where Merl?" She queried, instantly suspicious of her younger brother's motives.
"Group o'the lads gettin' tergether fer some friendly ax competition." Merlannka restated, without apparent need for breath. He had already consumed three bowls of soup and half a loaf of soda bread, without any reduction in the flow of words. "They got a ring made up fer sparrin' an' a set o'boulders been hauled down fer a good ol' race."
"No"
Klynzahr fished a lone finger shrimp from her soup, to avoid meeting the boys' eyes.
"C'mon, Ye could show 'em how a real Gladiator fights."
"I'll bet ye'd take home all th'gil."
"Freyhawb's gonna be there."
"Ye know he still talks 'bout ye"
Danisil's childish voice overlapped with Merlannka's cracking warble, interrupting each other in their eagerness. For once Iyrnahct remained silent, sending a knot of worry deep into Klynzahr's stomach. By her elbow, Old James continued to snore. Fortunately Klynzahr's scowl carried enough force to pause the onslaught of queries.
"I said. No." She stated, sliding her soup bowl away. "I've no intention o'smashin' boulders with Freyhawb an' his ilk.... challenge him ter a swimmin' race an' mayhap."
"Klynzahr!" Danisil's round face was flushed. "I know ye could beat 'em."
"I couldna beat Freyhawb in me prime!" Klynzahr sent the poor boy a withering scowl, which cowed him into silence, but Merlannka turned away and muttered something about thirty years worth of excuses.
Another night Klynzahr may have let it slide without comment. However tonight she turned slowly towards Merlannka and stared the awkward youth straight in the eye.
"I've no' lifted an' ax in two years. Me back's no' good fer shite anymore an' me right shoulder be goin' fast. Now I have folk countin' on me an' Da's health ter consider, an' I am not goin' ter go an' injure meself over yer fool race."
"Ginshaw would o'done it."
"Ginshaw would o'lost."
Klynzahr disentangled herself carefully from her chair and lifted James bodily off of the table. The old man muttered in his sleep before relapsing into even louder snores. The boys followed her lead, leaving Klynzahr with the uncomfortable realization that she was looking up at her younger brother. "Merlannka" She said quietly "Yer sixteen years old.... ifin ye want someone ter challenge Freyhawb at his own game, mayhap it oughter be you."
        Old James had actually dozed off long before dinner began, and Klynzahr gingerly sliding his elbow out of the butter dish, while trying to determine how they would extract the old man from his position without waking him or irreparably damaging the furniture. Nothing lasted long in a house full of half-grown Roegadyn boys, which she considered a likely hypothesis for why they had an ancient, drunk carpenter living permanently with them.
    Merlannka was talking. He had been talking without pause since the meal began, as had been his custom for the last twelve years. Merlannka had learned to talk late and Klynzahr had stated more than once that they never ought to have taught him at all.
"So ye'll come then Klynzahr?" Her head jerked up towards the circle of expectant faces.
"Come where Merl?" She queried, instantly suspicious of her younger brother's motives.
"Group o'the lads gettin' tergether fer some friendly ax competition." Merlannka restated, without apparent need for breath. He had already consumed three bowls of soup and half a loaf of soda bread, without any reduction in the flow of words. "They got a ring made up fer sparrin' an' a set o'boulders been hauled down fer a good ol' race."
"No"
Klynzahr fished a lone finger shrimp from her soup, to avoid meeting the boys' eyes.
"C'mon, Ye could show 'em how a real Gladiator fights."
"I'll bet ye'd take home all th'gil."
"Freyhawb's gonna be there."
"Ye know he still talks 'bout ye"
Danisil's childish voice overlapped with Merlannka's cracking warble, interrupting each other in their eagerness. For once Iyrnahct remained silent, sending a knot of worry deep into Klynzahr's stomach. By her elbow, Old James continued to snore. Fortunately Klynzahr's scowl carried enough force to pause the onslaught of queries.
"I said. No." She stated, sliding her soup bowl away. "I've no intention o'smashin' boulders with Freyhawb an' his ilk.... challenge him ter a swimmin' race an' mayhap."
"Klynzahr!" Danisil's round face was flushed. "I know ye could beat 'em."
"I couldna beat Freyhawb in me prime!" Klynzahr sent the poor boy a withering scowl, which cowed him into silence, but Merlannka turned away and muttered something about thirty years worth of excuses.
Another night Klynzahr may have let it slide without comment. However tonight she turned slowly towards Merlannka and stared the awkward youth straight in the eye.
"I've no' lifted an' ax in two years. Me back's no' good fer shite anymore an' me right shoulder be goin' fast. Now I have folk countin' on me an' Da's health ter consider, an' I am not goin' ter go an' injure meself over yer fool race."
"Ginshaw would o'done it."
"Ginshaw would o'lost."
Klynzahr disentangled herself carefully from her chair and lifted James bodily off of the table. The old man muttered in his sleep before relapsing into even louder snores. The boys followed her lead, leaving Klynzahr with the uncomfortable realization that she was looking up at her younger brother. "Merlannka" She said quietly "Yer sixteen years old.... ifin ye want someone ter challenge Freyhawb at his own game, mayhap it oughter be you."
