In Which Riona Invents a Boy

January 11, 1175

All three brothers had the same eyes startling eyes--deep sapphire blue with a ring of gold around the pupil--the sort of eyes Riona's more romantic friends had spent their girlhoods dreaming of. But while Casimiro's were kindly and Bernardo's were playful and twinkling, there was something strange about Augustin's, something a little sinister. A chilling twitch shot down her spine, but she tried to keep a straight face. She'd already taken the painstaking step of stealing some of her brother's training garb; if she had to suffer the indignity of smelling like a boy, then it would be a waste if she didn't look and sound and act like one too.

And boys weren't supposed to tremble.

"Sorry, who are you?"

...Shit. She'd been on the road for two days and everything had gone according to plan. She'd eavesdropped at the door of Casimiro and Isidro's room, learned the route they planned to take. She'd stolen away from the castle that night and gone on ahead of them, made it to this little inn in the no man's land between Naroni and Dovia, seen them arrive some hours later. All the while, she'd managed to pass. She was lanky and angular and flat-chested. She'd spent enough hours of her life faking voices through doors that she could sound like a boy if she cared to. She hadn't had any problem fooling anyone so far.

But no one had asked for her name.

"Uh... my name is... Searle." If nothing else, it was the most common name in the area. It was a noble name, but commoners had been known to name their children for their lords on occasion, and the closest Dovian region was Bandera--where her cousin of that name was earl. "I heard you mention something about a crusade, and you're a small party, so I thought I might offer my services."

Somehow, she could feel Isidro's charcoal eyes boring into the side of her skull. She tried to brush that thought aside and focus on Augustin--who smirked. "How old are you, boy?"

"Fourteen," she answered promptly, realizing a second too late that it might not have been the right answer. Shit. Riona was fourteen... but how old was this Searle? Maybe he was tall for his age. Maybe he was late sprouting hairs on his chin. Maybe she should have given this a little more thought...

The sound of a clearing throat came from behind her and to her right. It was too gruff to be from Casimiro; it must have been old Scarface behind him. "Do your parents know where you are, Searle?"

There was something about the way he said the name that alarmed her--but she couldn't dwell on it. She had to be alert, had to be aware. Did Searle's parents know where he was? No. He was an orphan. "Don't have any parents."

"Oh?" It was a sneer. In spite of herself, she couldn't help but look at him, standing there behind his more personable, more attractive cousin, some spectral shadow leering at her from behind the cover of his own lack of humaness. "Are you from the southeast corner of Naroni, by any chance?"

The blood in Riona's veins chilled to thick red ice. How had he guessed...?

"Because you know who you look like?" he continued, the look in his eyes oddly reminiscent of her cat's when he caught a mouse and toyed with it--right before wolfing it down. "That redhead whose wife Bernardo kept ogling at breakfast yesterday. What's-his-face--Lord Severin's son."

"Jadin?" Wait... was it strange that Searle knew his name? No--no, maybe not. If Searle was from Veldora, then he would have known who Jadin was... surely?

By some stroke of fortune, the brothers didn't seem suspicious; there was something about the way Isidro nodded, however, that unnerved her. "Yes, him. From the looks of you, he could be your brother."

Augustin sniffed. "Maybe Lord Severin has a few bastards running around."

Riona's nails ground against the skin of her palms as she clenched her fists. Her father probably did have a few bastards running around--what man didn't, after all? But none her age... no. No, he had loved her mother too much. He wouldn't have... would he? No. "I don't like what you're implying, sir."

If anything, this only seemed to amuse Augustin further. "Can't say I blame you there. The man seemed downright mad when we met him, didn't he, boys?"

Bernardo and Casimiro exchanged an awkward glance as Riona tried to restrain herself from punching their brother. How dare he insult her father. Furious but not wanting to appear so, she turned back to the other boys. Neither of Augustin's brothers seemed intent on saying anything, but Isidro's misshapen mouth cracked open. "Who isn't mad these days? Anyway, I think we're fine as we are. Go home, kid."

Figured that he would say that. Annoyed, Riona glanced at Casimiro--nice, reliable Casimiro--who indulged her with a smile. "I don't know, I kind of like him. 'Nardo?"

Bernardo shrugged. "It might be nice to have someone to boss around. Augustin? What do you think?"

The older brother took his time in answering. Riona's eyes darted amongst the party--Bernardo, Casimiro, her new arch-nemesis--before settling once more on Augustin. Another moment passed before he finally answered. "I never thought I'd say this, but I agree with Isidro. Sorry, kid. You seem like a fine enough boy, but crusades are for men."

Ah... maybe she should have seen it coming. A girl her age could pass for a boy, but a grown man? That was another thing entirely--and yet, no one was going to let her join them if she didn't. If she wanted to go any further, then her only way was to ride on alone...

"On second thought--" Interrupting Riona's mental process, Isidro stepped around his cousin and planted himself in front of her. Good Lord, such monstrosity was distracting. His face made it difficult to focus. "--maybe we should keep this one around a while longer."

...eh? "Err... you mean it?"

Isidro's scarred lips twitched. He'd probably never been closer to a smile in his life and she didn't think that meant anything good. "Of course I do. I'm sure you could make yourself useful somehow."

There had to be a catch to this. Isidro wouldn't have been being so nice to her if there wasn't. But at the same time... well, it did beat going alone... "Thank you, Izzy."

On the side, Bernardo snickered; Isidro raised an eyebrow. "What did you just call me?"

Well... at least she had a button to press later? Still, it probably wasn't the best immediate repayment. "Sorry, I... I just thought 'Isidro' was a bit of a mouthful."

His cousins continued to chuckle to themselves. Scowling, Isidro crossed his arms and stared a her. "It's three syllables. Your own name arguably has the same number... see-AR-ul." The word was so forced she couldn't have considered that it was what he'd wanted to say. It was uncanny. It was frightening...

...and yet...

"Don't apologize. But for the record--call me that again and you're on your own."

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