"Let the Hart ask wisely" by Sabrina E G Withers

He could feel the weight of his years in his bones as he struggled up the hill. A dull ache settled in his knees and he bemoaned his stupid pride for refusing to meet somewhere else. At least he had left his sword behind, a sign of respect for the woman who awaited him. The heavy blade would have hampered him now. He felt the sweat start to form on his brow but stubbornly stopped himself from brushing it away. The rough path had not been used in years but the grass still stayed well clear of it. Few people knew of the shrine at the mountain’s top and of those that did most would never venture there. Witch, sorceress, enchantress, the names she had were many and the shrine was her home, but to him she would always be the woman he had once thought loved him. What a fool he had been. He shook off the memory of his youth, his mouth curling into a growl. God, it still hurt, he sighed, he had loved her so much. Clenching his fist, he continued his ascent.

The blue of the sky filled by the noonday sun mocked his dark mood. He turned his thoughts to the reason he was putting himself though this; Roseblade the orphan, whose destiny had been mapped out since her birth. The moment she could walk she had sought out a sword. However, no one had been willing to train her. She had gone to every master in the land and one by one they had turned her down until she came to him; the recluse who had left court after the death of the king for he refused to bend knee to the heir. Reputed to be the best swordsman in the country during his prime, but his prime had left him long ago. The grey hairs on his head had been there long before the king’s demise. She had asked and he would have turned her away also but for the woman on the hill.

“I only did it for you.” He muttered breathlessly. He could feel the hammering of his heart in his chest and cursed his ageing body. Rounding a large boulder, the shrine came into view and he caught his first glimpse of the tall woman waiting for him. She seemed just as young as she had always been but he could see the age in her eyes. Long black hair billowed in the slight breeze that caressed the summit like a lover. She stared out into the valley below, neither acknowledging his presence nor moving the strands that covered her face. A cloak covered her shoulders but flew open, revealing the rich red dress underneath. He coughed slightly as he tried to catch his breath. A slight movement of her eye told him she knew he was there, however, she allowed him the dignity of composing himself after his climb.

“Thoren Stonehart.” She said gently a few moments later, her voice sweet like the summer dew. “Why do you seek me?”

He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, considering what to say to a woman who could see into his heart.

“Ten years I have trained her as you ask. Ten years I have done what you wanted, this last task for my redemption.” His head bowed he never saw the sorrow in her eyes when she looked at him.

“And it pains me to ask more of you.” She could tell from his stance that he did not truly believe her. The armour on his chest was nothing to that around his heart.

“She has a destiny.” He said, thinking he understood. “She will bring down the false king.”

“Is that what they say in the taverns?” Her question was light but he could hear the weight behind it. He looked at her. confused.

“Is that not why you asked me to train her?”

“It is not destiny.” She stated clearly and the look in her eyes was fierce. “It is what they hope will be.”

Thoren clenched his teeth together over the angry retort he felt rise within him. She deserved better than that. She bowed her head, recognising his effort. He had given up so much for her.

“Do you still believe he does not deserve the throne?”

His fingers moved involuntarily seeking his sword but he stilled it. She had his answer.

“And what did you tell her?” She asked, watching him carefully. He relaxed slowly, reluctantly releasing the resentment he felt.

“I said nothing. She must make up her own mind. My quarrels should be mine alone.”

The smile she gave him shone with inner warmth and he felt his defences crumble one by one. His heart was treacherous but he did not have the energy to fight it, knowing he had lost this battle many years ago. Aware of the effect she was having on him the woman turned away, looking again back out over the valley.

“She fights well.” She said after a moment. “She’s practising even now.”

He grunted, clearly not surprised.

“She is very dedicated. I’ll give her that.” He said grudgingly, but his pride in her shone through. He had worked that girl to exhaustion and back and she had still asked for more.

“It will be time for her to return to the castle soon.”

“I am aware of that.” He said gruffly. “Do you think I won’t let her go?” I let you go, his heart added. She studied the lines on his face, the passage of time etched deep within the creases.

“I had to be sure.” She whispered. Gazing at each other it was clear that they were both remembering the first time they had parted company.

~~~~~~******~~~~~~

“You said you would never leave me.” He cried, grabbing hold of the reins so she could not escape. The horse skittered nervously.

“Never is a long time. I have seen it.” She stated coldly, looking down at him.

“You are willing to give up what we had for knowledge?” He spat, realising what this was about.

“The knowledge was always mine. I just tried to deny it.” She pulled on the reins but his grip was strong.

“How can you leave what we had behind? Do you not love me?”

Her struggle ceased and she looked him in the eye.

“No.” She said, carefully emphasising the word. “Let me go.” The shock on his face was clear and his hand fell from the bridle. Picking up the reins again she moved past him. She rode slowly towards the gate.

“I loved you. I could have come with you.” He shouted at her back. She turned to look at him and Thoren saw the weight of the knowledge in her face, the mark of a wise woman.

“You are needed here. Our paths separate. This is how it must be.”

~~~~~~******~~~~~~

He turned away, realising how far apart they truly were and how much it still hurt to see her. She reached out a hand towards him but let it fall to her side without touching.

“You had a question you wanted to ask me.” She brushed a few strands of hair from her face. “Be warned you may only ask one.”

So many things moved through his mind. So many questions that surrounded the woman before him, but he knew what he wanted to ask. It had haunted him for many a year.

“Is she mine?”

She looked up at him, confused and he realised that for once he had surprised her.

“Tara Roseblade. Is she my daughter?” Many things followed this question for she had been his only love, his only lover. If Tara was his daughter, then Tara was also hers. He watched the play of emotion over her face as she chose her words. His breath caught in his chest when she looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“Can I ask you one thing?” She waited for his nod then smiled. “Would it matter?”

He looked down at his wizened hand, remembering the small hand in his when Tara had first asked for his aid. A broad grin covered his face as he gave his reply.

“No,” he stated, his heart filled with joy. “I would still love her the same.”

“Then you have your answer.” She said softly. “May it bring you happiness.”

Thoren’s joy faltered slightly at the sorrow in her voice but he knew it was no longer his place to aid her.

“My lady,” he bowed, deeply offering all he had in his eyes.

“Look after her.” The words were an entreaty and Thoren enfolded them in his heart.

“Farewell.” Turning his back to her, he began his decent. She watched him, the tears flowing freely now.

“You were wrong.” She whispered, though he could not hear her. “You were wrong if you thought I did not love you also.”