Chapter 3 (Part One): Swords and Loyalty
Hunter and Aitha quickly fell into their silent pace again, each with his own thoughts. As Aitha had noticed earlier, they had already left the city, and were walking by fields, in wild grass, and among trees. It was not long before Aitha noticed some sort of strange settlement in the distance. The houses, if they could be called such, were shaped strangely; they seemed to have sloping walls. They were set closely together, as if forming some sort of grid. But they were still too far to make out anything clearly.
As Hunter and Aitha came closer, Aitha saw that the “houses” were not houses at all. They were tents. Who, she wondered, would live in a village of tents? She also noticed occasional figures pacing on the outskirts of the tents, patrolling, perhaps. One such figure walked up to the them as they drew close to the “settlement.” It was a young man with ginger hair, a small nose, broad shoulders, and a farmish air about him. Aitha wondered at the sword he wore at his side, plain, but undoubtedly sharp. What was a farm boy doing with a sword? Then again, what was a farm girl doing as queen?
“Halt.” The young man commanded as soon as they drew near each other.
Hunter and Aitha obediently stopped.
“Who comes?” he asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“Go tell you Commander…” Hunter replied, “Commander Richards, isn’t it?”
The young man nodded briefly and Hunter continued. “Go tell Commander Richards that Hunter and his daughter wish to speak with him.”
Aitha had the sense not to stare at this announcement, but it was not easy.
“Hunter.” The young man repeated, “no second name?”
“He’ll know me.” Hunter grunted.
“Very well,” the young man nodded, “please wait here with my companion as I inform the Commander.” For another soldier had walked up as they were talking. Hunter acknowledged him with a nod, and ginger-hair walked briskly away.
Aitha found their new companion slightly intimidating. Ginger-hair had seemed much nicer. The new soldier had jet black hair which framed a set of cold blue eyes. His gaze continuingly swept across the far horizon, lazily uninterested in his two charged.
Luckily, it was not long before ginger-hair returned. Black-hair flicked him a nod before strolling away to continue whatever it was that occupied his time earlier.
“The Commander will see you, if you will follow me?” the young man said. Hunter and Aitha followed the soldier as he led them through the neatly pitched tents. It was an encampment of soldiers, Aitha concluded. Soon they came to a sort of opening among the tents. Ginger-hair led them briskly across the opening to a slightly larger-than-average tent on the other side. Lifting the flap, he indicated that they enter.
Within the tent was a man sitting on a mat upon the ground. He was reading through a stack of papers by the light of a candle while chewing on the end of his quill. A wooden crate served as a desk. He looked up as the two entered, a hint of a scowl upon his face. “As you see, we have no stools. So the choices are between standing and sitting on mats. Help yourself.” he pointed at the corner of the tent. Hunter and Aitha picked out two of the less mangy mats from the pile and settled down on the ground facing the commander.
Commander Richards put aside his papers to face his two unwelcomed visitors. Aitha judged him to be in his late thirties, but his brown eyes, though still bright and alert, seemed older, hardened by many things. His short, dirty blond hair seemed to have a line or two of gray. He looked tired.
“Hunter, is it?” he started, “sir, do you know how much trouble you are in?”
Hunter sighed, “it’s been eleven years. I’d have thought it forgotten.”
Richards laughed, “Bear Hunter. You were one of the best men the army had. Few could fight like you did, and all knew of your infamous temper. No, it will be many a year before soldiers forget the legend turned sour.”
Hunter’s face was expressionless, “I have come to speak of something else.” he said simply.
“Your daughter, I suppose.” Richards said dryly, flicking a glance in Aitha’s direction. Then he sighed, rubbing his brows in frustration. “Do you realize just how much trouble you’re causing me? First you come to my camp, and I am bound by law to arrest you and turn you over to the slave-drivers…”
Hunter’s face paled at this news, and Aitha wondered if this was really Hunter’s “friend” whom they have come to meet. But Richards waved their concern aside, “Then you bring along
her along!” he said, indicating Aitha. “And if my guess is correct, she is the daughter of our queen Taiyya?”
Hunter’s eyes hardened, though his face was still pale. “You will tell no one of this.” he said in a commanding tone.
Richards sighed, exasperated. “The royal guard has commandeered our barracks, which is why we are currently living in tents outside the city. They are also causing a load of trouble, which is making people very anger. Not to mention that they have been harassing me for their failure in capturing the run-away princess, as they are calling her. I already have more than I can deal with on my hands, Hunter. The last thing I need is to cover up for a fugitive of the law and the queen’s most wanted person.”
Hunter smiled dryly. “But you will do so nonetheless.”
Richards nodded in defeat. “Luckily for you, my preceder convinced me while I was still under his command that you were a good, if rash man. And loyalty was drilled into us while still in training. So,” he stood from his mat and bowed deeply towards Aitha. “My queen.” he said simply.
Aitha hurriedly stood up too, and flushing, returned his bow. She had heard the emotion in his voice, the loyalty… the respect. She wondered at how an inherited title could command such honor, and she hoped that she would not need to put up with all this respect and honor too often in the future. It was unnerving.
They sat down again and Richards asked, “now, how may I help you?”
Will post more later, I hope. Glad to see the readers are still around.
Second reason is a dumb one, so that leaves me with only one reason. I considered having Hunter mention the possibility, but ended up being to lazy too do it. Which apparently turned out to be a bad idea. (I'm afraid I'm not serious enough when it comes to writing. *sigh* See where laziness gets me?) So now I'll be a good girl and go back to edit that part, and incoporate the other ideas you've mentioned. Thanks for the much needed reminder, Mandy. *offers chocolate-chip cookie with extra chocolate* 
