Lilliana stood in the main ward of the Medical Center and watched the
tall man approach. She noticed W'liem at his side of course, but he was
peripheral.

No, her attention was focused on H'tor, her eyes moving from point to
point on his powerful frame. The injuries she'd noted last evening had
been treated, stitched and bandaged. A sure and steady hand had seen to
them all. Lilliana knew that hand belonged to none of her people.

Yet beneath the injuries and the unfeeling, pain-free features Lilliana
saw a weariness about H'tor that belied his physical prowess. She had
heard about his activities in the borderlands and his rigorous training
regimen that morning, the patients at the med center voicing their
opinions as their dragons gossiped. Otherwise it had been a quiet
morning, giving her time to think.

Lilliana knew quite a bit about the human body and human endurance. No
one trained as hard as H'tor did simply to maintain his skills. H'tor's
regimen had taken him well beyond strength, speed, mass and even health.
He was at a place where the human frame should only visit occasionally.
He seemed to live there. She drew an analogy from the air as he closed
with her. He was like a blade with too fine an edge, useful once, maybe
twice, but liable to dull or break at any time.

Then she realized something else just as he stopped before her. No one
went to the place where he lived every day without intent. It was too
hard a thing to do. One had to know how to get there and what it would
cost. People who pushed themselves to the limits of their abilities
almost every day were readying themselves for something.

"Healer," he said in that deep, almost toneless voice.

Six months, a year at most, before the blade broke from wear...

"It's nice to see you recognize that," Lilliana replied.

"I would not have left Artemis with you otherwise," he said. "Where is
she?"

"This way," she said, turning towards the private rooms.

She tapped on and then opened the door to poke her head into Artemis'
brightly-lit and well-aired room. The young woman was standing at the
open window watching the activities on the green.

Artemis turned towards her and smiled prettily. Lilliana smiled in return
and opened the door to reveal H'tor.

Artemis' reaction was instantaneous. Her pretty smile was replaced by one
of pure joy, her face lighting up until it seemed to compete with the
shafts of sunlight coming through her window. She cried out "Heck-tore!"
or some approximation and moved towards him, her arms outstretched.

H'tor moved forward, taking Artemis' open hands in his own. She began to
speak in her own tongue, quickly and excitedly. He listened to her,
nodding occasionally and allowed himself to be pulled back to her window
where she freed a hand and pointed out various aspects of the warren.

Then H'tor spoke to her in her own language. Lilliana recognized it as a
question but that was all.

Artemis nodded her head emphatically, laughed and then moved to where her
things lay on the table by her bed. H'tor watched her for a moment then
turned back to Lilliana.

"She's ready to go," H'tor said.

"As much as I'd like to argue with you I can't deny it," Lilliana said.
"No more wild rides though. Her frame isn't as sturdy as some might think
their own is."

H'tor nodded and turned to watch Artemis fasten her belt around her
waist. The serrated knife he'd given her still hung in its sheath, now
set to allow for a cross-body draw. He had no intention of taking it away
from her. She'd made it a part of her when she'd drawn it and faced her
monster ... and he had other knives.

Artemis crossed the room to where Lilliana stood and wrapped her thin
arms around the older woman's waist, hugging her with surprising
strength. Lilliana returned the embrace.

"You take care of yourself little one," Lilliana said softly.

Artemis seemed to understand the meaning if not the words. She smiled and
said something long and musical, breaking away from Lilliana to look at
H'tor.

"She says thank you," H'tor said after a moment.

Artemis frowned and said something else, obviously not very pleased with
the translation.

H'tor seemed to sigh without actually doing so. He spoke again.

"She says that a thousand new risen moons shall not  fade the memory of
when she met an angel of the healing touch. She thanks you for your
kindness."

Artemis had been watching H'tor carefully, apparently waiting for
something. When he finished she still didn't appear satisfied. She spoke
again.

H'tor replied. Lilliana recognized an explanation in his use of the
language.

Artemis remained unsatisfied, and reached for the knife at her waist.
H'tor watched her draw it without comment. When she began to turn towards
Lilliana holding the blade and offering the healer the pommel, H'tor
raised a hand and spoke.

Satisfied, she returned the knife to its sheath. H'tor turned to
Lilliana.

"I am having ... difficulty convincing her that you do not want anything
in exchange for your care of her." A small coin, gold, recently-minted,
appeared in his hand. "Since she believes herself to be in my service it
is my responsibility to see to her debts, even the non-existent ones." He
held out the coin to the healer. "For her sake, I ask that you take this
coin."

Lilliana smiled and took the metal disk from H'tor's fingers.

"I will keep it as a remembrance," Lilliana said. She turned to Artemis
and smiled.

Satisfied, the girl looked at H'tor expectantly. H'tor nodded and started
towards the door.

H'tor left, accompanied by both Artemis and W'liem. Lilliana watched them
go, for a few moments her eyes rested on Artemis' form but finally they
shifted to H'tor's.

She knew suddenly what word covered her thoughts of him that morning,
speaking volumes about H'tor, what he did and how he lived.

...Tragedy...

<..>

"We'll walk over to the dining hall and pick up a few things," H'tor
said. "Then if you'll have Irrin fly Artemis and me up to my apartment
you won't have to break off from your lunch with Erin."

"Fine by me," W'liem said. "But why walk? Irrin can carry all three of us
and it's a long way to the Dining Hall from the Medical Center. Either
way Erin's not going to be there. She'll be swimming for at least another
half hour."

H'tor glanced at him but said nothing.

W'liem felt a tugging at his sleeve and turned to where Artemis smiled at
him. She had a pretty smile.

"Artemis," she said, laying a small hand on her chest.

"W'liem," he replied, laying his own against his. She seemed to struggle
to pronounce the word and he continued to speak, somewhat at random.

"It's William actually," he said. "But everyone called me W'liam when I
got here. Then at some point W'liam became W'liem and that's what
everybody calls me now."

He glanced back at Artemis and realized he was confusing her. H'tor
showed no intention of translating and W'liem suddenly was very grateful
for that.

"W'liem," he said again, returning his hand to his chest.

"Wuh-lemm," she said carefully.

"A good start Artemis," he said smiling.

Artemis' smile became brighter still.

"Irrin," he said, indicating the sky-blue dragon that followed them.

Artemis repeated the name, though her smile did fade.

Soon enough they were approaching the dining hall. The dragons here were
as numerous as those waiting outside the Medical Center, though it was
still early for lunch. W'liem saw Artemis move closer to H'tor even as
the tall dragonrider scanned the nearby dragons.

Then H'tor's gaze fixed on one of the dragons, studied it for a moment,
then returned his attention to the main doors of the dining hall.

W'liem followed the path of H'tor's gaze, trying to see what the older
man had spotted.

S'ran's dragon, a golden-brown called Jasper, lay there watching them,
half concealed behind another, even larger dragon.

Before they reached the doors S'ran emerged from the dining hall. He
didn't spare them a glance.

They entered the hall. It only took W'liem a moment to find Erin sitting
alone at one of the far tables. W'liem couldn't help but notice a server
clearing away the lone meal across from where she sat. Her hair wasn't
even damp.

"Excuse me," he said, not looking at H'tor. "I see Erin over there. When
you are ready to leave Irrin's waiting for you outside."

He started across the dining hall.

H'tor and Artemis walked towards the kitchens.

"Hello H'tor!" Jeryn said as they entered the cook's realm. "How are you
my dear?" he asked Artemis, smiling broadly. "What can I do for you two?"

"Artemis insists on cooking a traditional dinner of her people tonight."

"Does she?" Jeryn asked, obviously interested. "What will she need?"

Though H'tor had to translate at first, he soon became extraneous as
Artemis' and Jeryn's conversation took on a life of its own. They moved
from the kitchens into the larders, storerooms and pantries, pointing and
using hand gestures while speaking in their own language as if their
words made real sense to the other.

"It appears that you're in for a real experience," Jeryn said when they
returned to where H'tor stood waiting. Both Artemis and Jeryn carried
what they'd retrieved.

"Yes," H'tor said. "You are aware that you are expected to join us?"

"Is that an invitation?" Jeryn laughed. "I accept!"

"We eat late," H'tor warned him.

"All the better!" Jeryn said. "I can make sure things are running
smoothly here for the evening meal and then come up and help Artemis ...
or just get in her way."

He chuckled then filled H'tor's arms with the things he carried for
Artemis.

"But I really must get back to lunch before I start thinking about
dinner. It was nice to see you again Artemis. You are always welcome
here."

He was rewarded with a smile and a kiss on his cheek and watched them
fondly as they left, then he turned back to his crew.

"What are you all looking at?" he asked good naturedly. "Get back to work
people! We've got a busy day a head of us!"

H'tor and Artemis left the dining hall, immediately encountering Naomi.

"There you are," Naomi said. "Hello Artemis. H'tor, I thought I should
warn you that my mother's coming to dinner tonight."

"Good," H'tor said. "Artemis is cooking."

"She is?" Naomi asked, turning to the young woman. "Why?"

"She insists on it," he said. "She's got everything together for a
traditional feast of her people. Jeryn's coming to take notes."

"Well we can't have a feast with just five people," Naomi observed. "Who
else should we invite? Lacey?"

"Talesin might be willing to stand my presence for her sake and yours."

Naomi sighed. "S'ran? No. Darkkon? Not if Lacey and Talesin are coming.
Galen and Domaia won't be back 'til late. Zera maybe if she's up to
flying again by then. Greta's not feeling well but maybe she'd like to
have T'grat and the kids out of the house for a little while. Jahn
maybe."

"K'lestide and Raye," H'tor suggested.

"Of course," Naomi said. "Anyone else?"

"W'liem and Erin," he said.

"Erin? But S'ran is seeing Erin."

"Somehow I think she'll be free if W'liem mentions the invitation."

"H'tor, I don't want to interfere with S'ran's love life."

"You won't be," he said.

"Very well," she said, dropping it. "Would you mind if I invited
Farr'in?"

"No," he said. "You might also consider Lilliana and ..."

"'Tor! 'Tor!"

H'tor turned from where they were walking toward the waiting Irrin. Demee
crashed against him a few moments later.

It wasn't too much of an effort to keep his packages balanced, though
Naomi did pluck a jar of wine from where it wobbled in a threatening
manner.

"Hello Demee," H'tor said. "It is good to see you again."

"Where did you go 'Tor?" Demee asked plaintively. "I missed you."

"I had to go away lad," H'tor said gently, catching Naomi's gaze. "I'm
back now."

"Will you leave again?"

There was a long pause then, seconds really but they seemed to stretch on
forever.

"I may have to," he said, his hand resting on the boy's shoulder and his
eyes meeting Naomi's gaze.

"But you'll always come back won't you 'Tor?"

"I'll try," he said softly.

Demee smiled happily and looked up at him.

"You'll come back," he said with the faith of the child he was. "But next
time, you have to say goodbye before you leave. Okay 'Tor?"

"Okay," the tall man said. Naomi turned away from him, lifting her free
hand to her face.

Meena joined them. "Sorry," she said weakly.

H'tor shook his head as if to say that there was nothing to apologize
for. "It's all right," he said.

"Meena," Naomi said, turning back. Her voice had an unnatural pitch to
it. She spoke rapidly. "We're having a feast tonight to celebrate ... to
celebrate life. We'd be honored if you and Demee and the rest of your
household would join us."

"Thank you Naomi," Meena said. "Are you okay Naomi? You seem upset."

"I'm fine," Naomi said, too hurriedly. "If you'll excuse me. H'tor, I'll
let the others know and be home to help Artemis after nightfall."

The WarrenLady started back towards the Administration Building, her
lunch forgotten.

Naomi pulled Demee from where the boy was wrapped around the man's leg.
Finally, after assuring her son that yes, they'd see "'Tor" that evening,
Demee consented to let go without pulling H'tor any further out of
balance.

********************

"...you could have been king."
"That has never been high on my list of ambitions."

The Hand of Oberon (Roger Zelazny)

********************

Abe Barker < H'tor & Haroc / Artemis >