“The lady has come to return Thel’s garment,” he said gruffly.
The three women looked at Avalyn as if just noticing her for the first time. Their eyes were wide with surprise, then disappointment, then suspicion. Thel, standing slightly behind the other two, pushed forward and lowered herself in an awkward curtsy. She could feel the heated, envious gazes of the women behind her; any new female in the barracks, no matter who she was, was cause for instant jealousy.
“My lady,” Thel said, somewhat hesitantly. “You… you look much better this morning.”
This woman was tolerable, Avalyn thought, but she definitely could do without the other two. There was something very dirty and loud about them. She handed the dress to Thel.
“I am much better, thank you,” she said. “I wanted to return your dress and thank you for its use. It was very kind of you.”
Thel nodded her head in acknowledgement. “You are welcome, my lady.”
The visit abruptly came to an end. Avalyn was trying to think of a way to gracefully excuse herself when Brogan suddenly put his massive arm around her shoulders and turned her away from the door. It was a very protective, shielding gesture. He didn’t say a word to the three women standing dejectedly and enviously in the doorway, but the glare he shot them was quite enough.
Avalyn looked over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of at least Thel. Somewhere over Brogan’s wrist she made eye contact.
“Thank you again,” she offered, half-farewell, half-apology for the strange departure.
Thel merely lifted a hand, twitching her fingers in a weak wave. The pasted-on polite smile faded as Brogan, Avalyn and St. Alban faded back down the hall. It was a wistful expression she now held. Not for Brogan; for what she wished to be. She wished to be a lady, too. But it was a secret wish, one that would never come true. Still, it had made her feel good to have come into contact with a fine woman. Somehow it had made her better than the others. Softly, she closed the door.
Far down the hall, Avalyn looked up at Brogan. “That was very rude of you not to have at least offered a farewell,” she said frankly.
He looked at her. “Why?”
“Because it is,” she couldn’t believe she actually had to explain his behavior. “That woman, what is her name? Thel? Was kind to me. Did you ever thank her for her assistance?”
He was surprised. “Me?”
“Did you, or did you not, seek some sort of assistance from her after finding me in the river?”
He had. “I did not have any dry garments for you.”
“Did you ever thank her?”
He blinked. He didn’t think he had, but he could not remember. In truth, the thought had never occurred to him. He finally shook his head. Avalyn, receiving her answer, put her hands on her hips.
“You must go thank that woman immediately.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Why?”
An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. Then she looked to St. Alban, standing silently a few feet away. The old man had maintained his distance for the past several minutes, observing Brogan and the interaction with the lady. He was still very protective of his young friend. But he understood what the lady was driving at, and she was not wrong. St. Alban had been attempting to teach Brogan manners since the day he met him,twenty-five years ago. Clearing his throat softly, he took a few steps towards Brogan.
“Because it is right that you should thank those who have helped you, no matter who they are,” he explained patiently. “The lady is correct. You must go and thank Thel immediately.”
At first, Brogan felt as if they were ganging up on him. Then he thought about it, and realized they were probably correct. A well-mannered man would do such a thing. With a long look at St. Alban, he turned and made his way, however slowly, back down the hall towards the Sirens’ lair.
Avalyn and St. Alban stood watching as he knocked on the door. Two eager faces appeared, but not Thel’s. A few words were exchanged. After a moment, Thel made an appearance. As they watched, Brogan apparently made something of a very short speech and abruptly turned away. He headed back to Avalyn and St. Alban much faster than he had left them.
“Do you suppose it was a proper thanks?” Avalyn wondered aloud.
St. Alban sighed heavily. “Probably not,” he said. “But, then again, Brogan was never one for pleasantries. It is momentous enough that he has even made this effort.”
Avalyn turned to the old man, once again studying him. There was much interesting, and perhaps much secretive, in that old face. It intrigued her.
“He seems very bitter,” she commented.
St. Alban’s expression darkened. As Brogan approached within earshot, he turned away from her. “Lady, you have no idea.”
The words stuck in her head like the ringing of a shrill bell as Brogan came upon them. But she did not have time to pursue the thought as Brogan claimed her hand again. Avalyn didn’t notice; she was still looking at the old man, several feet in front of them, as they proceeded back down the hall.
