Sides of War

Chapter Two: Barley and Soil

 Jorlin woke up earlier than usual the following day; the sun had just begun to rise by the time she was making her way towards the woods, wearing a cloak and carrying bread and cheese wrapped in cloth.

She knew where Asher would probably be, as he had the day off from being in the fields, which was an increasingly rare treat. She headed south of the tavern and weaved around the rotting logs and tangles of thorns as she hiked through the woods. Multicolored leaves blew from the treetops as the wind swept through. It was a few more minutes of walking before she strode into a small clearing centered around a log, upon which lay Asher. He was reclined lengthwise, his hands behind his head and eyes closed. He didn't open them when he said, "Hello, Jorlin."

"I brought food," she stated.

Asher opened his eyes and sat up. "What'd you bring?"

"Nothing special, just bread and cheese," she answered, going over to the log and sitting down on it. She placed the cloth between them and unfolded it, revealing four slices of bread topped with goat cheese.

He grinned and said, "Thanks," already reaching for one.

"What're you doing out here?" she asked, taking a bite.

He shrugged. "Just relaxing. It's nice to just be still for a while."

"Aye," she agreed.

"Working the tavern today?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Nice. What do you want to do, then?" Asher asked, grabbing his second already. She noted his appetite, hardly surprised. He was as skinny as the other serfs on the manor, his wide shoulders and lean muscles accounting for most of his bulk.

"Well..." she said, drawing out the word. "We could run errands for your father," she joked.

He rolled his eyes. "Once he gets you to do one thing, there's no telling how many more he has waiting for you once you get back."

Asher's father was a blacksmith, one of the only ones in town. He'd taught Asher all about armor and weapons since he was a boy, and Asher couldn't help but let his knowledge and fascination spread to Jorlin.

"We could lead a serf uprising against my uncle," she stated with a smirk.

Asher laughed. She loved the sound of his laugh.

"Not until you've had better training," he responded, standing up and fetching the two relatively straight branches they used for sparring.

She caught the stick when he threw it her way. "It's a fight, then?" she asked, already beginning to circle around him. "To the death?"

He mirrored her, and replied, "To the death." She could tell he was fighting back a smile.

He lunged at her, and she stepped back, easily blocking his swing. She parried the following blow, then darted to the side. Asher swung his stick at her legs, forcing her to jump back, and she followed with a series of blows at his torso, all of which he blocked. When he landed a hard blow on her leg, she fell to her knees on the ground and cried out.

He lowered his defenses and began to ask, "Jay? Are you-..."

Before he could react, she reached out and grabbed his leg. He let out a startled yelp as she yanked his foot out from underneath him, and he toppled to the ground. Jorlin leapt up and pressed her stick against his neck without giving him the chance to retaliate.

"Surrender," she commanded once she caught her breath.

He gave her a mischievous smirk, then grabbed her wrist and twisted it, her branch being forced away from him. Asher pushed her to the ground, then stood up as he positioned himself in a fighting stance.