The Moorian's Princess

Gaelan Troubles

The journey to The Vutessian capital took three days. Callahan was eager to get home. Relax in his study, have a proper meal, a bath in the springs that ran through castle making it warm in the cold winters.

But as they traveled, Callahan watched the Gaelan woman.

She had seemed to befriend their other captive, a woman warrior from Southgrass.

This woman had attacked them back at the Saren border, on their way home from raids they had slipped a bit into Southgrass and on their way into Vutessian she had attacked them. Cal's men had outnumbered her and taken away her spear and machete.

This was the day before Aila had shown up.

The woman was peculiar, aside from her only being on two legs and the graceful antlers on her head, she refused to speak.

Granted she had spoken her name and would talk a bit with the Southgrass woman, but always out of earshot and when she thought no one was watching.

She also played with the round black stone around her neck while staring at the tack on Callahan's back.

Callahan never missed much, he saw more than most of his men did, and he figured if he wanted to get this Gaelan to talk, he would have to meet her halfway.

So, when the sun had set and the twin moons had risen, Callahan made his men stop for camp. When the fire was burning and meals being cooked, Callahan untied Aila from his waist and tied her and the other woman, whose name he had learned was ZebraAnna, to a thick and sturdy tree, freeing their hands and tying the ropes one of their hooves instead.

Aila had watched Callahan silently as he did this, her green eyes staring and intense but they gave nothing away.

Once the food was ready Callahan took three bowls of stew and rice to the captives, the elephant elk satchel over his shoulder.

The women watched him as he folded his legs beneath him and handed out the bowls of food.

Aila did not take the food, ZebraAnna took it for her and tasted both before putting the bowl in front of the little Gaelan, who made no move but to stare at Cal.

"I know it ain't a great meal but in a few days we'll be at me home and get proper food." Aila still hadn't moved. "Eat, lass." Cal ordered. "Yer too skinny as it is. Mind I won't 'ave you be wastin' good food."

Slowly, still staring intensely, Aila took a bite of the stew and rice. Cal grinned, "Now there's a good lass. Here," He took off the satchel and offered it to her. "I reckon ye'll be wantin' this back."

Aila snatched the bag out of his hands and pulled out her things. The waterskin had been filled and the dagger removed, but she held her little flute like it was a precious gem.

"Couldn't let ye go runnin' about armed now could we? Now, I may not know how well ye fight, but I know ne'er underestimate a wuman."

Aila's eyes shifted in their intensity, no less impassable, but perhaps a bit less hostile.

"Do ye play yer wee pipe then?" Callahan asked. "I love a bit o' music but I left me own pipes at home."

Aila just set down her flute and continued to eat.

Callahan sighed. "Lass, I just want you te talk. Tell me who ye are, I'll get ye back to yer family."

The Gaelan's eyes hardened and her face twisted into a scowl, ears flicked back. She took her pipe and bowl of food and turned away from Cal, her legs tucked under her as she sat on a thick root, her dainty hooves dangling over the edge, her small fluffed up deer tail in full view.