Conflict and Courage by Candy Rae Page A

pair
with him until the following summer. Yansei was resigned to the
wait and happy to do so. He had spoken to Asya of his intentions
and the prospective pairing authorised if both parties were of the
same mind when summer arrived.
    So, hot and
sticky after her hunt, Jilya decided to rest beside the river a
while before she took a bath in the pool set aside for the Lind.
Eitel was supposed to be on the same errand, his mother Unda having
decided a bath was long overdue and he was not to return home until
clean. He had conveniently forgotten this.
    Lost in thought
and not paying attention, Jilya stumbled over him and Eitel woke
with a startled oath, which was not surprising really, considering
the size and bulk of a full-grown Lind stepping on to his
middle.
    “Pardon,” she
said in surprised Standard. She, with the other unattached, had
been taking language lessons from Faddei.
    The tousled,
and she noticed, very dirty boy stood up in a hurry and faced her
with a shy smile of welcome.
    “No matter,”
said Eitel, “I’m not hurt.”
    He dusted
himself off and they stood facing each other.
    “I’m going
bathing,” Eitel blurted out, “at least that’s what I’m supposed to
be doing.” Now what made me say that?
    They gazed at
each other for a few moments as Jilya considered whether she should
send out a light probe in an effort to find the indefinable link
that would tell her if further interaction might prove
interesting.
    Most Lind, when
in their vicinity, could pick up some human emotions but that did
not necessarily mean that they had found what Yansei termed ‘the
one’ they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. That
special ‘something’ had to be there.
    No point in
prevaricating she decided at last. Either he is or he isn’t. She was certainly attracted to him. She could tell the lad had not
reached full-growth, but she thought him to be at least twelve
summers old. She did not know that he was the Weaponsmaster’s son
and like his father as a boy, Eitel was small and wiry. He did not
look his fourteen years.
    She tried to
insinuate her next words into his mind.
    : I am Jilya
:
    Eitel’s eyes
opened wide. He looked at her.
    “Hello Jilya,”
he said aloud. “I’m Eitel Dahlstrom.”
    Jilya stepped
back realising why the boy looked familiar. Like everyone who had
met the Weaponsmaster, Jilya was in awe of both him and Mislya.
What would they think if they knew what was happening? Mislya’s
battle prowess was legendary. Would a matching between her and
Eitel be welcomed? She had been at the stronghold long enough to
know that, although the fully adult vadeln-pairs had their own
dagas, often quite distant from the main complex, young humans were
expected to remain within the confines of the walls. Would Mislya
accept her as part of the family?
    “I say,” said
Eitel, plucking up his rapidly disappearing courage, “do you fancy
a swim in the river? I’m sure that would satisfy even mother.”
    “That would be
nice,” she answered, her tail beginning to wag.
    He looked at
her.
    “Do you know,”
he added. “I thought I heard your voice in my head?”
    : Yes. You know
what that means? :
    Eitel began to
smile as Jilya’s presence enveloped him with a soft cloud of love
and belonging. It was inescapable, indescribable, this feeling. He
opened his arms in welcome.
    Jilya loved
this boy from that moment, loved him with an intensity and devotion
that she felt deep within her and knew was fully reciprocated. A
rush of thoughts passed between them as they stood.
    Neither of them
got their much-needed bath that sunny afternoon.
    Eitel stepped
towards her and wrapped his thin arms round her neck, pressing his
face against her, wishing this moment could last forever. Neither
realised that they had been communing for hours.
    They were
interrupted by a man’s voice.
    “Eitel. Where
are you? Your mother ...” Wilhelm never completed the sentence.
    He saw them
standing there and rocked back on his