A Warrior's Redemption (The Warrior Kind)

We passed through several galleries filled with fineries more opulent than the room before had been. Finally we came to a grand central hall that was lined with men-at-arms and important looking people with less important fancy dressed dignitaries fluttering around them. The busy hubbub of the room came down to a low murmur at our appearance.

General Nadero spoke softly to an attendant, who then turned around and announced to the hall, "Ladies and Gentleman may I introduce to you Roric Ta'lont, son of Lorn Ta'lont."

Hushed silence followed in the wake of his announcement. I looked at General Nadero for direction, as I was on the verge of turning and leaving not being comfortable with the oddities of a social situation as this. He motioned me further into the room toward a broad table at the other end of the hall. I hesitated for a moment, but then I made the decision to carry this charade out to its conclusion and began to make the long journey across the room under the speculative stares of the many onlookers the hall contained. I felt entirely out of place in these rich surroundings.

I was dirty, my hair was unruly and hanging about my face, my tunic was stained with dirt and blood and I felt like a sick kitten in need of a fluffy pillow and a bowl of milk. What was I doing here anyway?

This is where the path had led me so I needed to finish it, even if it was embarrassing. Squaring my shoulders I threw off the weight of the stares of those around me and focused on my destination. Before I reached the long table behind which seven individuals sat, an attractive middle aged woman broke from the seven and started to approach me. Obtusely I wondered if she was coming to criticize me for the trail of mud I was leaving down the middle of this beautiful hall.

Glancing around me to see if the sentiment was shared I caught the heated glances of a group of finely dressed women. If I read the intent of their glances correctly the furthest thing from their minds right now was the conspicuous trail of mud I was leaving. There speculative looks of interest had me jerking my gaze abruptly back to the approaching older woman, as a slight tinge of color rose to my cheeks.

Fighting, killing, and the rigors of survival were what I was well versed in; of the ways of women I knew almost nothing at all.

As the woman drew close she reached out and took my hand in hers and said as tears fell from her eyes, "Thank you Roric for bringing my son back to me!"