Nine

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"Why can't I hit it?" Leah snarled, picking up the dagger once more. She grasped the hilt in her hand, turning her knuckles white from the pure force of her grip.

"Stop!" Booth groaned, pushing himself away from the large tree. He strode over to the young woman and snatched the dagger from her hands.

"Hey, give that back!" Leah snapped as she tried to snatch the dagger out of his hands. Booth simply lifted it out of her reach.

"We're done," Booth said as he turned away from Leah. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"You said I needed to protect myself, how the hell am I supposed to do that if you take my dagger?" Leah snapped. Booth glanced over his shoulder in reply, a motion that angered Leah even more. "Can you not talk? You never say more than a few words at once, just speak!" Leah snapped and flung her arms up in the air forcefully.

"We'll find you something else," Booth stated, his voice cold. In one fluid motion, he had launched himself onto Roz's back.

"You're just going to leave me here now are you? Without a weapon?" Leah asked, striding over to her own horse and mounting up. Her hands were shaking, it wouldn't take a lot of convincing for him to leave her in the middle of the woods all alone.

"Here," Booth said, holding out the dagger. The blade sat gently in his hand. Leah reached out and took it, the heel of her hand brushing against Booth's palm. His rough skin felt odd to her. Lords always had smooth skin.

"Thanks," Leah grumbled and sheathed the dagger. Booth clucked to Roz and they trotted off out of the clearing. Leah gave her horse a small kick, urging Trix to catch up with the others.

"Where are we going?" Leah questioned, cooling off from her failed attempts at throwing the dagger.

"See an old friend," Booth answered, guiding Roz along hidden trails. Leah had to fall in behind Booth, cutting off their conversation for some time. She was too focused on making sure branches did not hit her in the face to think much about asking Booth more questions anyhow. For the ride, Leah just watched him from behind.

Booth sat straight in the saddle, moving with the horse's movements. His head rarely ever moved, but he somehow seemed to notice everything; from Trix bobbing his head, to a bluebird eating red berries out of a bush. Nothing got by Booth's gaze. Hours passed and Leah was still focused on studying Booth's build, how his shoulders met his neck, how his arms hung by his sides, every detail she adsorbed.

A small wooden hut came into view through a break in the trees. Smoke rolled out of the chimney and the smell of cooking meat wafted towards the two riders. Leah breathed in the scent and let out a sigh of hunger. She had eaten some of the food in her bag, but the fresh scent of cooking meat was more enticing than anything she had.

"Who is it we are going to see?" She questioned, finally being able to ride up alongside Booth again. The man just glanced in her direction and did not say anything. He stopped Roz in front of the small hut and dismounted, tying the leather reins around a hitching post. Leah followed his actions, desperate to keep up with Booth.

"Who goes there?" A creaky voice asked from inside the hut. The door swung open, revealing an old man, no taller than Leah's chest. In one hand he held a wooden cane, the other he used to shield the afternoon sun from his eyes.

"It's just me," Booth replied, walking closer to the old man.

"Oh you youngin' what are you here for now? It's been quite some time since you last made a stop," the old man croaked out, a grin spreading across his face.

"Need it for her this time," Booth stated, turning to face Leah. She stepped forward and politely bowed her head to the man.

"Her? Oh you scoundrel, come on in. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you settled down and had someone," the man chuckled leading the two riders into the hut. Leah turned up her nose and looked up at Booth. His focus was on the old man.

"Not like that," Booth replied, his voice sharp. The man turned and looked up at Booth. He shook a crooked finger in Booth's direction.

"I may be old, but I know what I know. You're keeping this one around," the man chuckled, holding a hand over his stomach.

"Whatever you say," Booth grumbled, facing away from both the man and Leah. The man was kicking aside a rug in front of the fireplace where a chunk of deer meat was staked above the fire. Leah's mouth watered at the aroma that filled the hut.

"What are we doing?" Leah questioned, watching the old man struggle with the rug. He finally was able to move it aside. His hand reached and and grabbed a brown string. With a grunt, he lifted a small trap door.

"What is that?" Leah asked again.

"It's my stash dearie. I don't want just anyone getting the best weapons in all of the land," the old man stated, staring at Leah from underneath his bushy, white eyebrows. He wiggled them up and down like two fluffy caterpillars.

"Isn't that Jonas that makes the best?" Leah questioned, remembering her father discuss a sword with another Lord. The name Jonas as the weapon master had come up multiple times.

"Well of course, what were you expecting? A teenager?" The old man burst out into whooping laughter. He had to hold his stomach again as a string of coughs came from his mouth.

"It's you?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to piece together what the man was saying.

"I am Jonas. I make the best weapons and give them to a young blacksmith who is sworn to secrecy. He knows how to make them, but not to the same extent as mine. Only I make the greatest," the old man said with a wink before disappearing down through the trapdoor. 

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