Wild Order by SJ Clements

Author:SJ Clements [Clements, SJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SJC
Published: 2023-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight – Committed

Lyron

For three days, Milana had eluded me. Thor hadn’t noticed her much, either. Ivy spotted her only during meals. She appeared fine when I left the hall with her, radiating high spirits. The festival kept me from asking if she was doing well. Oak and Sunny, too, remained scarce. Curiosity tempted me to visit her room only to not have an answer. However, by the next day, she was seen eating.

This woman threatened to unravel my sanity. The thought of her being in danger made my heart clench with fear. If I told her that, I’m sure she’d push me away. Somehow, she was more obstinate than me.

The morning of the festival arrived, and I was ready to receive some challenges. These events were more for public release of tension. Few from outside Orders came to partake, but sometimes a few Northern Order men would galivant in here. This year was no different as I saw them coming down the hall. Thor made sure everyone who entered was vouched for and known to us. If not, we took extra precautions for the safety of our people.

The first one was a man I knew well.

“Tank,” I said, reaching out my hand. He took it and squeezed firmly. “Welcome back to our Order. I presume we get to spar again? Longer this time.”

“Ha! You know you just caught me off guard last year. That ale your Order makes is good, made me slow.” Tank was a good man who wanted adventure. The formality of the Orders bothered him, but the Northerners were more relaxed in terms of traditional rules. Their hierarchy changed frequently, but if a leader angered enough of them, they killed him off. Their leader was the mass majority vote, and I envied that sometimes.

Tank was a large, barrel-chested man with a squinty eyed grin. If anyone was mad at him, it wouldn't take them long to come around. He loved himself a good time and a good woman to warm his bed, that was what most knew about him. But beyond that he was a loyal man who would kill to protect those close to him.

“Then perhaps save the drinks for after the fight,” I offered with a smirk as he put a hand on my shoulder and laughed.

“What fun would that be? Get drunk with me and we can have a really fun fight.”

While greeting the other guests, I found Tank’s offer more appealing. Year after year, these festivals drained my energy. Not to mention the festival after this where many would gather around the fire, dance, and then go find a room to be more private in. Finding myself in my room and avoiding the crowd became my tradition. The appeal of public fights didn’t bother me. It was the political nature of these meetings with rumors of Order changing leadership that made me want to go drink a barrel of ale. However, I settled for one tankard just to loosen up enough to be friendly through the event.

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