The Prince, the Thief & the Artifact

Chapter 13: Arrows

"With two boys running around, I wonder how you get anything done?" Al asked as they all sat down for dinner. Dale was sitting in his mother's lap, and Reed sat next to Leon.

"We don't live here permanently," Sage's wife, Amber, explained with a soft smile. "We come here a few days every few months because my husband collects the red algae from the river and some herbs from the forest. Our relatives tag along some times to spend time off away from town."

Summer could barely wait for them to start eating. The sight of the homemade meal made her mouth water. Mashed potatoes, roasted meats and more dishes she didn't recognize. It was a veritable feast.

And homemade bread. The smell had hit Summer as she entered the house, and she had been close to drooling since then.

The food tasted as heavenly as it smelled. Boyd had always scolded her for her manners. He'd called them table manners. But ever since she'd told him she never once had a proper meal at a table, he stopped bugging her about it. Now, she was barely conscious of people around her, but she tried not to make a spectacle of herself.

Silence reigned, the only sounds were those of forks and knives, and of Dale's loud munching and unintelligible chatter.

"I take it you like the food?" Amber asked. Summer looked up when no one answered. The woman was looking at her with a kind smile.

Summer swallowed the food in her mouth, washed it down with water and nodded. "Yes, it's amazing. Thank you."

Amber's smile widened. Thankfully, no one engaged Summer in any more conversation, and she ate to her heart's content.

After dinner, Sage took care of the dishes, rejecting all offers of help. Amber took Dale in to put him to sleep, and the rest, along with Reed, sat around the table with cups of hot tea. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting an orange glow and sharp shadows across the house.

Leon was wiping down his sword, the scent of clove oil drifted to Summer's nose, making her relax. It reminded her of calm evenings with Boyd after a full day of training. The two of them would sit by the fire after devouring dinner, and Boyd would wipe down his sword with long, slow strokes of a cloth dipped in clove oil.

Reed reminded Summer of herself. She used to sit by Boyd just as Reed now sat by Leon, following the motion of his hand, mesmerized and relaxed.

"Ah, it's pouring," Sage said, looking upward. The pitter patter of rain intensified.

"We're lucky you met that bear," Felix said, drinking his tea with a drowsy expression. Everyone looked at him, Sage's eyes wide and brows raised.

Felix blinked, then his cheekbones and the tips of his prominent ears turned bright red. "I-I mean, not lucky that the bear attacked you! Just that we would have spent the night in the rain if it hadn't. If we hadn't heard your son scream, that is. Not that your son should have-"

"He's trying to say we're lucky to be able to spend the night in a warm, dry place," Ida said.

Felix nodded frantically. "Exactly. What she said."

"Can I hold the sword?" Reed whispered to Leon, his dark eyes gleaming with childish eagerness.

Leon glanced at Sage. "If it's okay with your father."

Sage wiped his hands on a kitchen rag and looked at Leon apologetically. "He has an unhealthy fascination with weapons. I'm sure your sword is very valuable, you don't have to."

"It's no bother," Leon said. Reed was standing straight, almost on his tiptoes, his face glowing with excitement.

Leon handed the boy the big sword. The weapon was almost as big as the child was tall.