Wanderlust - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

"I hate everything that's happening right now."
"Have you always been so dramatic?" Tandar swung his sword without warning, and Tanden barely managed to move out of the way. Tandar cocked an eyebrow. "You can do better than that, little brother. You're fighting like a brand-new recruit."
"I'll concede that I'm out of practice, but I'm not exactly doing that badly," Tanden argued. "I've been training Soren, or I was, before—"
"You've been training Soren?"
Tanden scowled. "Who else was going to do it?" He was forced to step backwards again to avoid his brother's sword. Tanden immediately tried an attack, which Tandar knocked aside effortlessly.
"Oh, I don't know." Tandar shrugged. He wasn't even winded. "I'm just surprised. The man is your first mate, your—"
"No need to say it out loud."
Tandar chuckled. "And now your bodyguard? Does he have time to eat and sleep, or does he just tend to your every whim?"
Tanden was uncomfortably aware of the crowd that had grown to watch the duel. Usually he loved being the centre of attention, he couldn't deny that. But insisting they duel in one the barrack's courtyards had been nothing but Tandar wanting to show off. He was one of the finest swordsmen in the kingdom. While growing up, Tanden had watched him train for hours on end during the hottest days of the year. Tanden himself wasn't a bad fighter, he was actually quite good. The problem was no one looked good against Tandar. Talking about Soren wasn't helping him focus, either.
"Maybe this discussion is better saved for later," Tanden suggested, using his free hand to gesture at the various guards and knights who had settled in little clumps around the courtyard. "Unless you want to bring shame to the Tandran name."
"No one's ashamed of you."
"Ah." Tanden grinned. "That's because no one knows. That's because I separated myself. Who cares what I do if I'm not in the kingdom, aye?"
"You're an idiot." Tandar attacked, and Tanden deflected the blow smoothly. Pride flashed across Tandar's face. "Maybe you haven't lost all of your skills. Although I have a hard time imagining you teaching anybody anything useful."
Tanden twirled his sword. He knew it wasn't a particularly hard trick, but it looked impressive. "Maybe you should give Soren some pointers, then. After all, if he's my bodyguard, he'd better be good."
"I don't believe you want him to put himself in harm's way. You've never liked being guarded. You've liked your guards, but—"
Tanden cut him off with an attack. Tandar blocked, and suddenly Tanden found himself on the cobbled floor, his sword clattering just out of reach. He tried to get up, but the tip of Tandar's sword was pointed at his chest. With a sigh he leaned back onto his hands.
Tandar chuckled. "You're not supposed to get angry during a fight."
Tanden stared at his brother a moment longer, then knocked the sword aside and grabbed the hand Tandar offered him. He let himself be hoisted to his feet, then dusted off his clothing. "I didn't know the noble and great Sir Tandar sank so low as to try to upset his opponents."
"You're an easy mark, little brother." Tandar clapped him on the shoulder.
Tanden winced and rubbed his shoulder. "Yes, well..."
"Does the tattoo still bother you?"
Tanden froze. Nobody knew about the tattoo, aside for a few members of the crew. Tandar couldn't possibly be that good at guessing. "Who told you?"
Tandar walked over to pick up Tanden's sword. "Do you really have to ask? Why hide it, anyway? Getting a tattoo is the least surprising thing you've ever done."
"I was just trying to figure out how to tell you. I didn't think stripping off my tunic at dinner was the most appropriate approach. Although Soren would have appreciated it, I'm sure."
Tandar shook his head. "You have him wrapped around your finger, don't you?"
Tanden grinned. "What can I say? I make it worth every second of his time."
Tandar offered him the sword. "I'm sure you do."
Soren strolled along the pier. It was a nice afternoon, warm, with a gentle breeze coming off of the water. It was the perfect day, he just didn't know what to do with it.
He had gotten used to spending every moment with Tanden, but that morning he'd felt the need to get out of the fortress. Talking with Lord Tandrael and Sir Tandar had been overwhelming, and he wasn't sure he was up to seeing them again so soon. A walk along the docks seemed like a good way to relax. Back down among common people, sailors and fishermen. His people. Flitting between worlds may have been easy for Tanden, but Soren found it exhausting.
He wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, so it came as a bit of a surprise when he noticed a pretty little schooner in front of him. She was being cleaned, men hung over the sides on ropes and scrubbed the hull. One older man was carefully touching up the paint on the ship's name. The WDN Queen of Crele. Soren walked a little closer. None of the men paid him any attention, so after a brief period of deliberation he walked up the gangway. At the top he paused before stepping onto the deck.
A gruff looking Teltan was flipping through a list and looking over a neat pile of crates. He glanced over. "And who are you?"
"Sorry, mate," Soren contemplated moving back onto the gangway, but he'd already stepped onto the ship without permission. He couldn't exactly take that back. "Hopin' to talk to Cap'n Roland, is all."
"Oh." The sailor jerked his head towards the quarter deck. "He's up there."
"Thanks, mate." Soren took that as permission to walk past the sailor and climb the stairs. Sure enough, Captain Roland was there, talking to a handful of men about repairs they had to make to the rigging. Soren waited patiently until the captain was done, trying to think of what exactly to say.
He didn't have to think for long. Soon, Roland dismissed the men and smiled at him. "Ahoy Soren, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
Soren felt like his mind had frozen for a second. Then it thawed. "I thought, maybe, you'd have some advice."
"Happy to help, mate. Advice with what? Your Wanderlust is a bit bigger than my little lady, mind you."
Soren shook his head. "No. I mean, advice on the... well, the Tandrans, aye? How do you..." he trailed off and shrugged helplessly.
Roland laughed. "How do I hold my own? Practice. It was a lucky thing that I met Rael before he became Lord West Draulin. I had a chance to get to know him. He was always a lord, of course, but without the title he didn't seem so intimidating. We were friends by the time his father died, and I was comfortable with him. Tandar was friendly enough, and Tanden... well, he would have followed me around like a puppy if I'd let him."
Young Tanden being fascinated by Roland made sense. Soren smiled at the images that came to mind. "Did he ever ask about your tattoos?"
Roland's eyes widened. "Did he ever ask? It's more like did he ever stop asking," he corrected. "Listen, lad... There are things I know about Tanden."
Soren crossed his arms uncomfortably. "It's not—"
"Relax, mate. All I'm trying to say is this. If you mean as much to him as I think you do, his brothers will welcome you. They're good men, the three of them."
"I know," Soren agreed after a moment. "Reckon I'm not so concerned about them. Aye, they're a little scary, bein' who they are and all, but... it's more everyone else. The guards and servants, the lords' wives and children. When you walked me up to the fortress, you spoke to the guards with such confidence. As if you'd been doin' it your whole life. Havin' a hard time wrappin' my head around that."
Roland shrugged. "I suppose I started copying Rael. As long as you act like you're allowed to be walking around the fortress, the guards will let you pass. Once they get to recognize who you are it gets easier, of course. It will take some time, and practice, but you'll get there, mate. Now, how about that drink I promised you? My lads can handle working without my supervision for a few hours."
"Aye, sounds good," Soren agreed.
"Well, he's not terrible." Tandar nudged aside one of the chairs that faced Tandrael's desk and sat down. At the same time, Tanden collapsed into the second chair and propped his feet on the desk.
"I think you mean to say that I'm actually quite good."
"Not compared to me, little brother."
"Nobody in Zianna is good compared to you."
Tandrael cleared his throat. For the first time Tanden noticed that he was holding a quill. A piece of parchment, half covered by Tandrael's neat writing, sat in front of him. A few books lay open on the desk. "You two do know that I have work to do, correct? And get your feet off my desk."
Tanden didn't move. His feet weren't really in his brother's way, and besides, he was comfortable. "Tandar is a cheat."
"It was a strategy. One that worked very well," Tandar replied.
"I held my own."
Tandar chuckled. "Is that what you did?"
Tandrael sighed and continued writing. "West Draulin may be a vacation for you two, however—"
"Aye, we know," Tanden interrupted. "Lord West Draulin has work to do. What are you doing, anyway?"
"About ten different things at once."
"Oh, multitasking is something I happen to excel at. So, what specifically?"
Tandrael cast him a quick glance, probably trying to gauge if Tanden was actually interested. "Well, I have to go over the taxes collected this month, and the pay for everyone who works for us. Lord Odrac's son was born, so I need to write him a letter. I need to reply to a letter from Queen Navire, and another from King Deorun—"
Tanden sat up abruptly. "I'll do those."
"You're asking to do work?" Tandrael cast Tandar an incredulous glance. "Well, where's that coming from?"
Tanden rolled his eyes. "You act like I manage to run a ship without doing any work. Look, you're going to write those letters and then you'll have to have them translated, right? Just dictate them to me, I'll get them done. Tandar can write the letter to Lord Odrac, they were always closer friends than you were. Then, once your tasks are done, the three of us can go out to a tavern. How does that sound?"
"Risky," Tandar said.
"Reckless," Tandrael answered at the same time.
"Right, right," Tanden shook his head. "I forgot that you're boring old men now. You're both nearly forty, after all! It's better to sit here and do work. Surrounded by knights and guards." He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up again, and sighed dramatically. "Such a shame, really. I would have loved to meet the Rael who evaded his guards in Co and met his greatest friend."
"You were ten when that happened," Tandrael pointed out.
"Exactly! I was a child, not a peer. And now that I'm young and carefree, my brothers have become ancient old men with no rebellious nature to speak of. It's such a shame. And whatever happened to the charming Tandar who used to woo every woman in the city?"
Tandar nudged Tanden's chair with his foot. "He's happily married."
"Oh, of course." Tanden sat up again. "And I'd never suggest you do anything to betray Brilana. May the Goddess strike me if I ever even thought such a thing. No, I'm just talking about going out and getting a drink. Maybe joining a game of Stampede or Sailor's Dice."
"You're incorrigible," Tandrael said.
Tanden grinned. "Does that mean yes?"
His brothers exchanged a glance. After a moment Tandrael sighed. "Yes, very well. But first, get ready to write those letters."
Tanden's grin widened and he scooted closer to the desk.
Roland led Soren to a tiny tavern down a winding street. It was busy, but surprisingly roomy on the inside. They found a table near the back and within moments a barmaid had placed two tankards of ale in front of them. Soren eyed his while Roland got comfortable, taking off his jacket and slinging it over the back of his chair.
"Right, not a fan of ale, are you?" Roland asked.
Soren shrugged. "Reckon one tankard won't hurt, aye?"
Roland chuckled. "Good lad." He picked up his tankard and gently knocked it against Soren's. "Cheers, mate. To our unusual friendships."
Soren smiled. What a perfect way to describe it. He lifted the tankard and drank. Without really meaning to, his gaze landed on Roland's tattooed arms. He put the tankard down. "So," he said, feeling like this was something he could easily talk about. "Were your arms done on Crele?"
Roland nodded. "Got them done before I met Rael. I'm not ashamed of them, you understand. I know there are rumours, given that I usually hide them."
"A lot of people usually hide them," Soren pointed out.
"Aye, but most Crelans don't get as much attention as I do," Roland said. "If I only had myself to worry about I wouldn't bother. Rael doesn't care, so I know my job would be secure. But my sister moved to West Draulin with me, and she has sons. I made the decision early on, hiding them meant more Teltans took me seriously, and she wasn't harmed by associating with me." He paused and smiled. "My nephews might join the army. They're sailors at heart, but they are really good archers, too."
Soren swirled his tankard absentmindedly. "Not many Crelans in the army."
"No, but they're half Teltish. They don't look it, but they are. Have you had any trouble with your tattoos? I see you've added some blue. Interesting choice."
"Well, the Captain thought it would look good, so—" Soren cut himself off abruptly. "I didn't do it just for him. I like it," he said, hoping he sounded firm.
Roland smiled. "They do look good."
"So..." Soren paused to have another gulp of ale. "This tavern. I grew up in West Draulin and I've never heard of it."
"It's a well-kept secret," Roland agreed. "One of my personal favourites, though. I introduced... well, it's like they heard me." He gestured across the tavern.
Soren glanced up to see all three of the Tandrans walk through the door. They were dressed as casually as they could probably manage, in faded tunics and dark pants. They weren't even wearing their rings. They looked enough like average Teltans that people who hadn't met them in person probably wouldn't recognize them.
Soren, for some reason he didn't even understand, turned away from the door. "Did you invite them?"
"I've been with you this entire time," Roland pointed out. "No, as I was saying, I introduced Rael and Tanden to this tavern. I don't think Tandar's ever been here..." he trailed off thoughtfully, while waving a hand at the lords.
They noticed and made their way across the tavern. Nobody cast them a second glance.
"Well, well, well..." Tanden was grinning when he reached the table. "I thought you didn't drink ale anymore, mate?" While his brothers sat down, he waved at one of the barmaids. Once he'd gotten her attention, he stepped around the table to sit beside Soren. "How many have you had?"
"Just the one."
"Not nearly enough. Thank you, miss." Tanden flashed the barmaid a smile as she placed a tray of five tankards on the table. She blushed and hurried away to the bar. Tanden grabbed one of the tankards and had a long drink before leaning forward to look around Soren and grin at Roland. "Look, Roland. I got them to relax. No guards in sight."
"Quite a feat, that," Roland agreed, taking one of the new tankards.
"Don't encourage him," Tandrael chastised. "He called us old boring men."
Roland laughed. "We may not be young, but I wouldn't exactly call us old and boring. Not yet."
"Not you, Roland," Tanden agreed.
Soren sat in the middle of the teasing, quietly observing. Roland's friendship with all three of the brothers was clear. If he hadn't known the real story, Soren might have assumed Roland was a cousin or half-brother. Soren felt like he didn't quite belong, and to give himself something else to concentrate on, he finished his ale and grabbed a second tankard.
The brothers and Roland continued to talk, mostly about adventures they'd had when they were younger. They called over the barmaid a couple times for refills. Soren found himself ignoring most of the conversation and just watching Tanden. He was different around his brothers. On the ship and around the sailors, Tanden was friendly, but aloof enough to keep up his seemingly effortless air of control. With his brothers he became just that, a brother. A little brother who could be teased and took it laughing. No one in the tavern could have looked at him and imagined what he was usually like.
They were working on their fifth or sixth refills when Soren was startled out of his thoughts by Tanden draping an arm over his shoulders.
"Soren, mate," Tanden whispered. His brothers and Roland were still talking, not paying them any attention. "Why don't we re-create that first night, aye? I'll book us a room for ton—no, two nights. We can spend the whole day up there, no one to bother us."
It took Soren a moment to really understand what he'd heard. Then he shook his head. "Know that's not a good idea, Captain." He glared at his tankard for a second then pushed it away. The last thing he needed was to be too drunk to argue with Tanden.
Tanden slipped a hand in his hair and turned his head. They were so close Soren could have kissed him, if the other three hadn't been around.
"Soren. I think it's a fantastic idea. Think of the fun we would have."
Soren silently berated himself for not keeping a closer eye on how much Tanden had been drinking. "But—"
Tanden cut him off with a kiss, and despite his misgivings about their company, Soren returned it with feeling. It was nearly impossible not to.
"Careful, little brother." Tandar's rumbling voice cut through the moment and Soren instantly pulled away. "You don't want to cause a scene."
Tanden's look of annoyance changed, and he grinned at his brother. "Don't I?"
"Don't goad him, Tandar," Tandrael said.
"Causing a scene sounds fun." Tanden stood up, eyed the bar for a moment, then grabbed Soren's forearm and tugged on it. "Come on, mate. Rael, did you know that Clairia told me I should ask Soren to dance? At the feast. Reckon this is as good a time as any, aye? Soren," he tugged again. "Mate, come on."
Soren glanced at the brothers, unsure of what exactly to do. He hesitated long enough that Tanden dropped his arm, muttered something under his breath in a language Soren couldn't quite make out, and walked away from the table. Soren, the brothers, and Roland watched quietly as he crossed the tavern and leaned against the bar. One of the barmaids immediately moved over to talk to him.
"Well." Roland cleared his throat. "Mate, reckon it's time for you to take your captain home, aye?"
"Might as well, before he gets himself in trouble," Tandrael agreed.
Soren didn't move. The whole thing seemed like a strange dream. "Aye, um... sorry, my lords. He— I usually cut him off," he stammered awkwardly. He didn't realize he had looked down, until he glanced up and noticed the smile on Tandrael's face.
"No need to apologize, Soren. We know our little brother," he pointed out. "Go on, get him out of here."
Soren didn't need to be told again. He crossed the tavern quickly to join Tanden. "Captain," he put his hand on Tanden's shoulder. "Let's go."
Tanden turned around, one eyebrow cocked. "Where?" He leaned back against the bar and crossed his arms. "Do you think it'll be that easy?"
"What?"
Tanden waved a hand at their table. "Someone, and I'd bet money it was Rael, told you to take me away. So I can't cause a scene. What if that's what I want?"
"The Wanderlust," Soren said quickly. "Some solitude. Isn't that what you want?"
Tanden didn't seem convinced. He tilted his head and stared at Soren, but didn't say anything.
Soren couldn't think of anything else to offer. Then another thought popped into his head. He glanced around, suddenly feeling skittish, but no one was paying them any attention. And even if someone was to look their way, Tanden didn't look like a lord. He looked like a sailor, maybe. An impossibly attractive sailor who maybe some of the women in the room were eyeing, but not because they recognized him.
Before he could second guess himself, Soren stepped forward. He wrapped his arms around Tanden and kissed him. He'd clearly taken Tanden by surprise, it took the captain a moment to uncross his arms and drape them over Soren's shoulders. When Soren finally moved to pull away, Tanden hooked his hands behind Soren's neck to hold him in place.
Tanden grinned. "I don't know that I can make it back to the Wanderlust, mate. I'd rather take you right here."
"I'll carry you if I have to."
"Wait, do you really think you could carry me the whole way?"
Soren shrugged. "I could get you out of the tavern, at the very least."
Tanden looked like he was considering it, but then he shook his head. "Not really the most dignified way to go, is it? I can walk." He let go of Soren's neck to grab his arm. "Shall we go?"
Soren let himself be led across the tavern. Tanden suddenly seemed fairly normal. "I don't think you're as drunk as you're pretending to be."
"Why would I fake that?" They pushed through the door into a cool, dark night. The street was fairly empty for being so close to a busy tavern.
"To see what your brothers would say," Soren guessed.
"Maybe." Tanden released Soren's arm, but instead of letting go entirely, he slid his hand down to clasp Soren's hand. "Or maybe... I'm drunk."
"You're confusing."
"I'm probably doing that on purpose, mate." Tanden flashed him a quick smile.
"Reckon you are," Soren agreed.